Other Half
May 5, 2004
By the time the name Charlie finishes spelling out on Trevor’s wrist, he’s thirteen years old and in middle school.
Jessica Mills, Trevor’s best friend, already knows her soul mate. They’re next door neighbors. He’s seventeen and her parents don’t let her hang out with him alone. Jessica spends most of her time complaining about it to Trevor after school.
“You’re kinda lucky,” Jessica tells him, lying across Trevor’s bed. She pushes her backpack onto the floor.
“How?” He asks.
“You don’t know your soul mate yet. I mean, didn’t your name start showing up late? Kenny’s didn’t start ‘til he was three and we’re three years apart.”
Trevor looks up from his homework. “Do you think Charlie’s six years younger than me then?”
Jessica shrugs. “Maybe.”
Trevor groans. “Gross, he’d only be seven. He’d be younger than my brother. Ugh, Jessica, that can’t be true.”
Jessica shrugs again. “That’s what the doctor told me. But what’d they tell you?”
“Nothing like that.” Trevor frowns.
“Let me see your wrist,” she demands. She rolls off the bed and onto her feet. Holding out her hand for Trevor’s wrist, he lets her pull the black wristband off.
“Wait, there’s a space and an R.”
Trevor jerks his hand back and looks down at his arm. Sure enough, there’s a small space and a capital R.
“Holy crap,” Jessica says. “Your soul mate’s a hick! He’s got two first names!”
Trevor pushes her away, but laughs. “What do you think it is?”
“Rick? Robert? Richard? Ross? Ray?”
“Oh god I hope it’s not Richard. That just sounds awful. Charlie Richard,” Trevor grimaces.
Jessica goes home an hour later, still chuckling to herself about Trevor’s hick soul mate. She hugs him goodbye and mumbles something about going to dinner at Kenny’s house.
Jessica Mills, Trevor’s best friend, already knows her soul mate. They’re next door neighbors. He’s seventeen and her parents don’t let her hang out with him alone. Jessica spends most of her time complaining about it to Trevor after school.
“You’re kinda lucky,” Jessica tells him, lying across Trevor’s bed. She pushes her backpack onto the floor.
“How?” He asks.
“You don’t know your soul mate yet. I mean, didn’t your name start showing up late? Kenny’s didn’t start ‘til he was three and we’re three years apart.”
Trevor looks up from his homework. “Do you think Charlie’s six years younger than me then?”
Jessica shrugs. “Maybe.”
Trevor groans. “Gross, he’d only be seven. He’d be younger than my brother. Ugh, Jessica, that can’t be true.”
Jessica shrugs again. “That’s what the doctor told me. But what’d they tell you?”
“Nothing like that.” Trevor frowns.
“Let me see your wrist,” she demands. She rolls off the bed and onto her feet. Holding out her hand for Trevor’s wrist, he lets her pull the black wristband off.
“Wait, there’s a space and an R.”
Trevor jerks his hand back and looks down at his arm. Sure enough, there’s a small space and a capital R.
“Holy crap,” Jessica says. “Your soul mate’s a hick! He’s got two first names!”
Trevor pushes her away, but laughs. “What do you think it is?”
“Rick? Robert? Richard? Ross? Ray?”
“Oh god I hope it’s not Richard. That just sounds awful. Charlie Richard,” Trevor grimaces.
Jessica goes home an hour later, still chuckling to herself about Trevor’s hick soul mate. She hugs him goodbye and mumbles something about going to dinner at Kenny’s house.