“Do you think the sun gets lonely up there?”

Amelie, busy on her poem for tomorrow’s class, swivels her head towards the voice. Ria is next to her, laying on her back, light green highlights blending in with the grass in Amelie’s backyard. Her gaze is pointed upwards, directly into the harsh sun’s rays. It is one of those clear skies without a cloud to be seen.

“Maybe. But she might like the solitude,” Amelie answers.

“Used to the solitude maybe. But I find it harder to believe that she likes it,” Ria counters, plucking a dandelion from the ground.

This strikes a cord deep within Amelie.

She felt lonely. For a majority of her life before Bell invited her into her friend group. Heartbreak caused her to retract into her shell. Being a soulmateless person in a soulmate world was a different kind of hell.

It is like being in a crowded room with people you know, but you are still alone.

That feeling was something Amelie was used to. Justifying it as liking the solitude got her through those years, but Ria brought all that to the surface. Bare and cracked.

“Maybe all the other stars avoid her, so she has to tell herself she likes it.”

Both of them know the double meaning. It is fairly obvious, even if you didn’t know Amelie as well as Ria does.

Ria rolls on her side, mirroring Amelie’s position and has this curiosity taking over her features. “You know, I will kick some people’s asses if you want.”

A burst of giggles leaves her lips before she can stop it. Amelie can’t remember the last time she felt like this. At ease.

“I appreciate the generous offer. I’ll hold you to that. If I ever see this one guy ever again, you’ll be the first person I call.” It’s probably that feeling of ease that has her slipping up. Ria eyebrows arch in question.

“What’d he do?”

She takes a deep breath to prepare to relive the painful memory, “Blake. He was my second love. Or what I thought as my seventh grade self. I had already been hurt by Piper, my first love. But I thought Blake was different. He acted like he liked me, but only wanted to get his first kiss out of the way for when he met his soulmate. I was an easy target, apparently desperate, with me being soulmateless.”

Wincing, she can still picture him. The moment before he broke her heart. When she deluded herself into thinking he could like her.

The silence slightly concerned Amelie, but Ria rests her head on her arm and begins a story of her own.

“Lizzy. She was my soulmate. She was a beautiful soul. Loved life.”

Amelie is speechless. Ria never talked about a soulmate. Being surrounded by her friends who either didn’t care about the soulmate concept or were against the idea, she just assumed that she hadn’t met hers yet. On particular good days, she even forgets that soulmates even exist.

“I only knew her for two months before the accident. A car with a drunk behind the wheel killed her in case you were wondering.” The way she spoke was almost casual. There was still an inflection of loss, but not necessarily sadness.

“I can’t imagine the strength it took to grieve her. I’m so sorry. Was the heartache painful?” Heartache is a common term that many used when one half of the soulmate pair dies before the other. Amelie has heard that some people who never even met their soulmates feeling heartache.

“I’m ok. I honestly barely knew her. When I grieved, it was more so the loss of what could have been with her. I never experienced the heartache that some do.”

“Really?” It is hard to believe when everyone worries and talks about heartache. There are rare cases that particularly strong soulmate connections feel the longing even with extended periods of time apart. No death included.

Ria looks thoughtful, gaze on Amelie, but yet not at the same time. Like she was seeing something that Amelie can’t. “Yeah. I remember my dad hovering over me when she died. Thinking I was just masking it really well, but I just didn’t. I started believing there was something wrong with me because I didn’t feel it.”

Something wrong with her? She never thought of it that way. “There isn’t anything wrong with you. You just didn’t have the time with her,” Amelie reassures.

Giving her a similar small grin, Ria responds, “Likewise. It sucks that this world makes the soulmateless feel bad for something they can’t control. Blake and whoever Piper don’t deserve you. They took advantage of you and your soulmate status. That is unforgivable.”

“I guess we both are a bit jaded, Freckles,” the nickname rolling off her tongue so easily like fingers through silk.

“You got that right,” Ria agrees.

Her hand falls in the space between them. Amelie meets her there, their fingers brushing.

She got used to the loneliness, even convinced herself that it was ok, thinking that it would be like that forever. But in this moment, she isn’t so sure.

When Ria interlocks their fingers, Amelie thinks, _I could get used to this_.