I glanced at Leah. There was a queer expression on her face which I could not read, and it terrified me.

"Maybe, I should just leave," I whispered.

I headed towards the exit, walking slowly. Slowly enough, for Leah to stop me from going.

Four steps away.

Three now.

C'mon Leah.

Two...

"Umm...Blake"

I turned to look at her with hope in my eyes. I knew it. I knew it that she would never choose anyone else's friendship over mine.

"You forgot your car keys," she said handing it to me.

A wave of disappointment hit me. I felt disgusted and belittled.

I took the keys, without uttering another word. I smiled at her, trying to conceal my expression that screamed dismayal.

                           ******

I ran up the stairs and flung open the door of my room, fuming with a mixture of unexplained emotions. I promptly dug my hands in my pocket and took out my phone. Instagram was the only way I could find out more about Marc. I typed with shaky fingers,

Marc Willians.

I erased the last two letters again and rewrote the correct spelling.

Marc Williams.

There it was. The profile picture showed Marc's perfect face with his hands running through his hair and his eyes lowered towards the ground.

I stalked his profile like a Romeo searching maniacally for his Juliet. He lives in Los Angeles, California.He has a job which, I guess, keeps him forever glued to money. He owns a luxurious car and is atleast two-three years older than me. He is sturdily built and most of his pictures are captured in the gymnasium, showing off his six-pack abs. He has the charm. The charm to woo any beautiful girl in the whole wide world.

I sat at the edge of my bed and gazed cluelessly at the figure in the mirror.

I have the looks of a handsome boy. But I can never carry it off well.

I am super-rich. But the money isn't mine. It belongs to Dad.

I get good grades. But I am not intelligent at all.

I am just a dumb, immature teenager who knows nothing of what it takes to be a gentleman.

Look at his clothes. Chest-fitting shirts and trousers like a powerful personality.

Look at my clothes. Loose hoodies. I look like some kindergarten kid.

Now I know why Jennifer left me. Now I know why Dad left me. Now I know why Charlie left me. I am the reason. I am the damn reason. I am immature and I can't make decisions.

I scratched my head in exasperation. I was in no mood to spoil my not-so perfect mental health because of some obnoxious brat. I sat at my desk again.

THE SOULMATE GUIDE

The only way to find happiness. The only way to escape the ordinary, though just for a little while.

I cautiously opened the guide to the page where the bookmark was.

Welcome Blake. Quite stressed right? Let me give you a good news to light you up but also a bad news, to drown you in a sea of confusion.
The good news is a new characteristic of your SOULMATE. Your soulmate has a very tender heart. A kind and humble one, though she might seem tough on herself and everyone else. She has that hidden unexplored generosity. She will make sure to keep you grounded, even if you manage  to get to the peak of success.

"What am I supposed to do? Go check out every girl and ask whether she is good at heart or not?" I muttered,vexed.

Don't display your emotions so quick Blake. Save it for the bad news.

I read further.

The bad news is that you hardly have time now. Just three more characteristics to go. After that, the guide will no longer reveal characteristics. It will only give you your daily horoscope, followed by your birthstone, lucky number, illusions and dreams.

Note: You are supposed to find only her.  Don't lose track of your destination and hook up with the wrong girl. The consequences can be dire. It will be tragic for the wrong girl you've chosen.

I was surprisingly sweaty. Beads of perspiration had formed all over my forehead. I was breathing heavily.

One wrong move. All gone forever.

I gulped.

I have to find her.

                                 ***

I woke up to the song of birds. Sunlight poured in through the slightly open window by the side of my bed. I stretched my arms to shake off the lethargy.

I can do it.

I cheerfully marched out of the room and gave a good morning peck on my mother's forehead.

"Someone looks really happy today. What's up?" She chuckled as I wrapped my hands around her neck.

I can do it mom. I inhaled deeply.

I made my way to the attic and opened the old, rusty trunk.

My father's trunk.

I quickly went through the pile of clothes. Branded shirts. Gold watches. Luxurious perfume bottles.

I excitedly had a long, sing-along shower and came out after almost an hour of bathing.
I chose an intense black silk shirt and paired it with grey-checkered trousers. I applied hair gel on my dark brown strands of hair and arranged them in place. I put on my father's favourite wristwatch and added a hint of a luxury Dior fragrance all over my body.

I looked very formally dressed. So formal, that it felt extremely absurd to hang a school bag on my shoulders.

I drove to school and stopped my car just five meters away from the main entry. I walked with a grave and mature  expression as I felt all eyes on me.

I can do it.

I gulped.

I quietly went and stood near Ethan and Rachel in the school ground.

"My nail paints look so gaudy. I think I need to change...," Rachel stopped speaking and stared at me wide-eyed.

Ethan had the same astonished expression and his eyes looked ready to bulge out of his sockets anytime.

"I know I look like a super-model. Close your mouth," I smirked even though their mouths were closed.

"You look...," Rachel started.

"Like a clown." Ethan and Rachel burst out laughing.

My self-esteem got shattered to pieces.
_________________________________________