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“Your soulmates.”
I look up at my father, even more baffled than I was a minute ago. When my father realizes I have no clue what he’s talking about, he places his hands on my shoulders, his kind eyes softening.
“A soulmate is someone who just fits with you in every way possible. It's as if they are made out of the same fabric you are, and when they are close, they just seem to complete you.”
“Oh,” I whisper, mauling my lower lip, still trying to make sense of what my father is trying to tell me.
“I'm a firm believer that in a person's life, there are soulmates out there for us just ready to fill that hollow void in us that we didn't even know we had. You, my sweet daughter, have been lucky enough to discover all the missing pieces to your elaborate puzzle in one go.”
“I don't understand.” I shake my head, still not getting what my father so dotingly is trying to explain.
“Okay, let me put it in another way. If I told you that Logan was moving away from our street and you wouldn’t be able to see him again, how would you feel?”
Lost.
“And if I said the same for Quaid?”
Heartbroken.
“And Carter?”
Devastated.
“See?” my father asks, witnessing my broken expression with each hypothetical question he made. “All three fill you in exactly the way they are supposed to. And I think you do the same for them, just as they do for each other. You four are like the magnets in a compass. You might be pulling in your own different directions, but remain tied together at the very center—a beautiful compass that will always show you the way back to each other, no matter the hardships that may lay ahead.”
“I like that.” I smile, my chest feeling warm at the idea.
“I do, too. I'm happy you found them. Cherish your friendship. Nurture it, and see it bloom. If you do, I’m positive that one day, you’ll find that what tethers you to each other, will eventually become something far greater than what you have now. Something so rare and precious, that I have no doubt will fill all your days with true happiness. I'm just glad to witness all of it,” he says tenderly, with a shine to his golden eyes.
“Dad, are you going soft on me?” I ask when I see his eyes begin to water.
“No, kiddo. When you become a mom, you will understand what I'm feeling. Seeing your child happy and complete, loved and cherished, is all I could have ever hoped for. Especially after all the hurdles life has thrown at you at such an early age. My prayers have all been answered, and I am so proud of being your father.”
“Dad, you're going to make me cry,” I tell him, my throat starting to tighten up, seeing my father so emotional.
He wraps his arms around me, placing a kiss on the top of my head. I relax in his hold, and let him gather his composure. It takes him a minute, but when he lets go, he’s back to his cheerful self.
“Call the boys, kiddo, and tell them not to make any plans this Friday. We’re going to have our first ever campout—Rossi style.”
When the day of our campout finally arrives, I’m bursting with excited energy. Dad might not have let me go to the Braun Oaks like I wanted, but he went all out to make up for the disappointment. The tent in our backyard is large enough to accommodate our four sleeping bags next to each other, but since the night is so hot, we pull them out and make a little circle on the grass so we can stare at the full moon above our heads. Unlike the canned food Logan said he ate during his usual camping trips with his dad, my father grilled us some cheeseburgers and hotdogs. Sure, he handed me a veggie burger instead of the real deal, always watching out for my health, but I was too happy to complain. Especially since Carter let me switch my burger with his after he made sure Dad saw me take a few bites out of mine.
We spend most of the night listening to Quaid’s jokes and all of the wackiest ghosts stories Logan can remember, while Carter records everything by taking shot after shot with his trusty camera. I'm so happy and content to have this little bit of normalcy that it makes me daydream about all the other things I want to experience.
"If you had three wishes, any wish what would it be?"
“That’s easy. I’d use my first wish to get unlimited wishes.” Quaid rolls his eyes, as if it was a no brainer.
“Always the greedy one,” Logan mutters nudging Quaid on the shoulder until he falls flat on his back.
“No, I'm serious. You only get three wishes,” I reinforce, curious as to what they may be for each one of them.
All three boys take a long minute to think about it, Logan being the first to speak up.
“If I had to choose just three, then mine would be that I get a full ride to an Ivy League college out east, followed by a job on Wall Street,” he says, his response proving he’ll always be the more mature out of our foursome. “The last wish would be that we always stay this close, just like we are now,” he adds, a small blush coloring his cheeks.
I throw him a smile, letting him know that’s what I want too, and then turn my attention to the green-eyed boy who looks oddly pensive.
“What about you, Quaid?” I ask softly, hoping to coax him out of his reverie.
