You had no clue why your parents wanted to move to Derry, Maine so abruptly. It wasn't like there was much opportunity in a small town like that. Actually, you did know. Your dad got transferred because of the increase in missing kids cases and the Derry police force needed extra hands. Now that you look at it, you understood the need to move but you couldn't wrap your head around why they would move. You were a kid for God's sake. If there was an increase in missing kids cases, then why would they bring you along?

You tried arguing that your dad should go and work until the cases were solved. Of course, being the thirteen-year-old you were, they wouldn't listen to your argument. Instead, they insured you that you were in good hands, your father was a police officer and the whole town had a 7 pm curfew to ensure the safety of its citizens.

Scoffing, you went back to your room, slamming the door behind you to show your disappointment. It was August, right before you started school again. The summer was spent outside with your friends, riding bikes until the sun set, splashing in rivers until you were soaked. Nothing could have prepared you for the sudden goodbye. You tried not to show your heartbreak as you hugged your best friend for the last time, holding each other for what seemed like hours.

To put it lightly, you were pissed. You didn't even attempt to hide your disappointment in the backseat of your dad's Ford Sierra, giving short answers every time your parents asked you a question. It took so much of you not to roll your eyes when your dad told you to behave. Sure, you were being a brat, but your life was ripped away from you in a matter of 3 days. Three days ago your parents told you were moving. Two days ago you said goodbye to some of your closest friends. One day ago, you were packing your bags, your best friend helping you pack the most valuable items that you've accumulated over the years. Birthday gifts, goofy polaroids, and treasured memories were being stuffed into containers, turning into just some cherished moments of your life.

Now, you were on the road to start your new life. You didn't want a new life, all you wanted was to go back home and spend time with your friends. As you sat in the back seat, your head rested on your right hand. Subconsciously, your gaze traveled to the inside of your left hand. There was a scar that showed up a few days ago, a long jagged mark across the palm of your hand. The moment you saw it, you knew it was from your soulmate. You tried to recall what happened that day, wondering if you slid your hand on a rock and scratched it, but you never remembered the pain. Your skin wasn't bothered either, it was just a dark mark across your skin.

A part of you was relieved knowing that your soulmate was there. Besides the scar on your left hand, there was nothing on your body to show you that your soulmate existed. Some days you wondered if you even had a soulmate. When you were little, you would search for any tiny mark you could, determined to find a mark that showed you that they were there. After a while, you gave up. You thought if they didn't have a scar now, then you probably didn't have a soulmate.

All of your friends had scars as well. Whether it was from your intense playing and skidding on rocks or just plain roughhousing, everyone had a scar from something. You even had one.

It was easy to miss unless you were looking closely. Being the rambunctious and rebellious toddler you were, you didn't listen to your parents whenever they told you to stop. Before you knew it, a piece of glass from a wine glass your mom dropped a few seconds earlier was buried in the bottom of your foot. Although it was pretty light, a line was drawn on the center of your foot, a permanent marker of your rebellious action.

Being able to see your soulmate's scar was comforting and nerve-racking. The conflicting emotions made your head spin. One part of you was so elated that there was confirmation that you had a soulmate. The other part of you was anxious that you just left your soulmate. Ever since you were a child, you would create scenarios where you would find your soulmate outside your house one day. In one scenario, they were your new neighbor, knocking on your front door to introduce themselves. In another, they ran into you as you were biking with your friend. Your favorite scenario was meeting your soulmate in the arcade, your relationship starting with a friendly competition. Since you were little, you convinced yourself that your soulmate was back home. Your soulmate was waiting for you back in (Hometown). You balled your left hand into a fist, covering the scar from your view. It was too painful to look at.

When you went to go tell your parents about your newfound scar, a huge grin adorning your face, they told you that you had to move. Before you knew it, your grin fell and disbelief surrounded your whole body. You were just overjoyed knowing that your soulmate was actually alive, but now a sense of dread filled your body. Saying goodbye to all your friends, memories, dreams, and all for what? Your dad's job transfer?

You couldn't have hated the road trip more, clenching your hand into a fist as your parents sat in the front seat, their own hands entwined on the center console.

Richie was a toddler when he attained his first scar. His parents were shocked when they looked at the bottom of his right foot, finding a line etched on his skin. At first, they thought it was some sort of marker that Richie used on his skin but it didn't disappear when they tried to wash it off. Then, they asked their son if he stepped on something sharp while they were at work. Richie shook his head, his mouth slightly hung open in confusion.

Then, it clicked into their minds. Richie's soulmate must have cut their foot somehow. Of course, they would explain it to him later. Trying to explain soulmates to a toddler was not something they wanted to get involved with.

When Richie was 7, his parents finally explained the concept of soulmates to him. They told him about the scar on his foot and how his soulmate would have the same mark. Richie found it a bit weird that soulmates existed, his second-grade mind not able to grasp the concept of loving someone yet. Hell, some boys in his class still believed that girls had cooties. As Richie aged up, he began to understand the concept of soulmates even more. Popular TV shows and movies would contain soulmates, often between two best friends that didn't know they were connected in that way until one of them got injured. People at school started to pay more attention to the marks on their bodies, searching each other for the familiar marks with the hope of finding their other half.

Richie never tried that hard to search for his soulmate. He couldn't exactly go up to someone and say "Let me see the bottom of your feet". He knew that finding his soulmate would be a challenge but he didn't mind that much. He was 13 and wasn't interested in the concept of love. He was too busy entertaining himself with Street Fighter, not to mention the killer clown that he and his friends defeated that summer. The last thing that was on his mind was his soulmate.

All of the losers knew about his soulmate's scar, they all saw it from their frequent visits to the quarry. Eddie and Beverly liked to tease him about it, asking him if he had some kind of foot fetish. Richie ignored their comments and bit back at them. He wasn't bothered by his soulmate's mark and, in fact, he would often forget about it. It wasn't like he could look at it every day, it was on the bottom of his foot and he didn't have much flexibility.

After the defeat of the killer clown, Richie dedicated himself to his game Street Fighter, determined to exceed his highest score from last year. Eddie would join him every few days before complaining about Richie's obsession. Tired of Richie's lack of attention, Eddie decided that he wasn't going to the arcade with Richie that day. Instead, he was going birdwatching with Stanley. Richie didn't hold back his complaints, calling the popular hobby incredibly boring. Eddie wasn't bothered by his words, leaving Richie by himself at the arcade machine.

Your mom kicked you out of the house, giving you some money before sending you out the front door. She was bothered by you spending the rest of your summer indoors so she told you to go out and make some friends. Your mood was sour as you grabbed your bike from the driveway. You remembered passing by an arcade on the way here and decided that it would be the perfect place to go. You could spend your money, play some games, and convince your mom that you made some friends (even if you didn't).

Taking a step in the arcade, you looked around at the people occupying the machines. There weren't that many given the small space. Walking over to the quarter machine, you put in a five dollar bill to get some change. While it was spitting out some coins, you took the time to look at your options. There were a few machines across the wall: a pacman machine, a rampage machine, and a popcorn machine stuffed into the corner. What caught your eye was the Street Fighter machine in the middle of the arcade but there was already a boy occupying it. Taking your quarters out of the machine, you stood back for a while, waiting for the kid to leave the game.

One minute turned to five, then to ten, then to fifteen. By this point, you were getting annoyed. The boy was constantly replaying, entering quarter after quarter to start a new game. Right before he put in the next quarter, you came up behind him and spoke up, your voice sharp.

"Can you move on already? There's other people in the arcade too."

The boy turned around with furrowed eyebrows, his squinted eyes magnified by the large glasses resting on his nose. "You talkin' to me?"

You scoffed, folding your arms in front of you. "Who else would I be talking to? You're the only one hogging a machine."

Richie took a few quick glances around the arcade before turning his focus back onto you. "Looks like there's other games open still, sugar."

Your eyebrow twitched at the nickname but you held yourself back from snapping at him. "Well, I want to play this game."

Richie smirked at you before gesturing to the game screen in front of him. "See this, sugar?" He pointed to the high score on the screen, "This is my high score. Unless you can do better, I suggest you go play some other game." Ignoring his comment, you pushed next to him, entering your own quarter in the game. "H-Hey did you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," You responded, shooting him a fake smile. "Now are you going to play or what?" You gestured to the second set of controls.

Richie's frown turned into a smirk, the corner of his lip tipping upwards. "You're on, sugar."

All you could hear was the jamming of buttons and the occasional groan from your opponent. Your focus was on the game, determined to defeat the arrogant boy that stood next to you. You won the first round, making Richie grumble in disappointment. When he won the second round, he let out a victorious shout.

"You need to be faster than that to defeat me."

You rolled your eyes at his comment, stretching out your fingers to get ready for the next round. "There's one more round, you haven't won yet."

Richie bit his lip, concentrating on the combat game in front of him. He couldn't let this girl defeat him, not at his favorite game. Unfortunately, his health started to drain as you jammed the buttons, fingers working tirelessly to defeat the arrogant prick. Richie also got your health down pretty low, but it wasn't enough. With one final hit, you were able to knock down his character.

Mouth turned down in disappointment, he stared at the screen with hard eyes. Your mouth was turned up into a grin, feeling victorious as you got to enter your name into the screen.

"Best out of three?" Richie offered, looking at you with pleading eyes.

"Sure," You complied, "But you have to pay since you lost."

The two of you lost count of the score by the tenth game, the loser having to pay for the next round. The game kept going and before you knew it, it was already 5:30.

"Sorry I have to go," You spoke up before Richie could insert the next quarter, "My mom will kill me if I'm late to dinner."

Richie's grin faltered, looking over at the girl next to him. He had such a good time with you that he even lost track of time. For some reason, he wished he could pause time just so you could keep playing. He liked having someone as competition. Eddie was a good friend and he did play the game with him, but he wasn't much competition. Richie was bound to win every round. With you, however, there was a challenge to it. He would win a few rounds and you would win a few rounds. You were both testing each other's skills.

"Oh," Richie finally spoke, the hand holding the quarter slowly dropping, "Will you be here tomorrow?"

Your eyebrows drew in slightly at his question before giving him a few pats on the shoulder. "Yeah, I can play a few rounds tomorrow."