Groundhog Day

3.

            Thomas sipped on the mug of hot chocolate he'd made himself, staring blankly at the calendar that hung on the fridge. He'd never really been overly romantic, hardly getting crushes on anyone growing up. So he didn't have any sort of expectations for his soulmate to live up to: but forcing him to relive Friday the second for over a week was not exactly the best start. You'd think, when you saw your soulmate, you'd just know, but Thomas was hopelessly lost. It didn't help that he had just moved here, either, so his pool of candidates was anything but narrow. Literally just about anyone he passed could be his soulmate. Was he expected to talk to ALL of them? He could easily be on Feb. 02 for a month, if so.

Shivering as a chill traversed down his spine, the brown-haired boy gripped his mug tighter, wrapping both hands around it to absorb more of its warmth. He glanced out the window: the ground was prickled with patches of last week's snow, trees barren and casting sinister shadows across the pavement as the sun rose.

Shadows, Thomas thought to himself, noting that the sky wasn't very cloudy at all today, meaning the groundhog would see his shadow and declare six more weeks of winter.

"More like six more weeks of February second," the boy murmured under his breath, licking some of the residual whipped cream from his upper lip.

Tipping the mug back, Thomas finished off his drink, rising from his seat and placing the cup upside down on the top rack of the dishwasher. His parents both had already left for work, so Thomas was on his own to ensure he actually got to school. Whistling, the boy crouched over and shoveled a scoop of dog kibble into the bowl on the floor, calling for his dog to come eat. A large, dopey chocolate lab bounded in, almost colliding into Thomas and greeting the teenage boy with a slew of slobbery kisses. "Alright, Alright, Bark!" They'd had the dog since he was little, and back then he'd insisted upon the dog's name being Bark. And it stuck.

Thomas ran his fingers through the dog's fur, which was nearly the same shade exactly as the hair atop his head. You know how they say pets and owners look alike? These two definitely fit that stereotype.

"Alright bud," the human stated, almost having to yell over Bark's loud and obnoxious chowing. "I have to go to school! I'll be back later buddy!" The dark-haired boy bundled up and slung his backpack over his shoulder, heading out the door and locking it behind him. He stuffed the house key into his jeans' pocket, already on alert. Soulmate hunting, day 8, began now.

Turning onto the sidewalk, Thomas gripped his backpack straps, forcing a smile onto his face to appear as approachable as possible. He only lived a few blocks away from his new school: West Chambington school for Knowledge Development. Scanning the streets that were bustling with parents dropping off and kids driving themselves, it was a madhouse. It could be anyone, here. And there were hundreds of kids. The world really expected him to try everyone?

Releasing a small sigh to prepare himself, Thomas squeezed his eyes shut before bursting out into an overtly friendly face. "Hi, I'm Thomas! Hello! Nice to meet you! Hi! I'm new!" He tried to get the attention of at least 10 different people, but they either a.) ignored him, b.) just said hello, or c.) didn't have names that could be shortened to NR, the letters that practically taunted him in the mirror every morning.

Kids had begun to disperse, and Thomas picked up on the social cue that the bell would probably be ringing soon. The first time he'd lived through today, Thomas panicked and had to dive into his backpack to find his schedule, but by now, he knew where all his classes were. Even though technically he hadn't gone to them yet.