Tyler threw himself forward. People and their strings surrounded him, and he felt their eyes on his back. More accurately, on his left ring finger. Tyler, the boy with no string: the boy with no soulmate. He trudged forward and down stairs that led to the subway.
Disgusted people shoved him off to the side. He continued to push himself down the stairs. Tyler hung his head and tried to ignore how bare his finger felt.
Trains continued to fly by and blow warm air into his face. He kept his eyes on the floor, and passed stop after stop.             
All of a sudden, he was falling. He made purchase with cold concrete.
“What are you doin’ ‘ere?”
Tyler tried to push himself up, but somebody gripped his sides and flipped him onto his back. He waited a few seconds, and then Tyler shoved a boy off of him. The backs of his eyes burned from years of harassment and abuse because he was the forbidden different.
A girl stood across from him; her mouth a thin line. Wild, curly brown hair framed her face, and freckles danced under her eyes. Tyler’s heart pounded in his ears. He silently mouthed run, and snatched the girl’s hand. Her eyes grew wide, but she followed him.
Minutes later, they stopped and panted.The girl extended her right hand.“I’m Kota, short for Dakota.”
“I’m Tyler.”
“So… uh… I thought I was alone.” Kota brought her left hand up; a silver string was wrapped around her wrist.
“Wait! I swear that wasn’t there before.” Tyler rolled his eyes. He glared at his own hand and gasped. He had a string. A string to Kota.
For the first time in his life, Tyler is no longer alone.