I begin to panic. Not in a crazy, uncontrollable, headless chicken kind of way. More like in a shocked, speechless freaked out and confused kind of way. My mouth drops open and refuses to close, ready for catching bugs. I stare at the strange kid with wide eyes, then down at my finger before turning my eyes back on him He looks up at me from where he sat in the snow filled sandpit, tilting his head to the side slightly, his dark hair ruffled and bright eyes equally wide. The chilly wind was blowing forcefully against us, but I hardly notice it anymore.

"My finger, it`s gone! The name is gone!" Words finally find me, my voice shaking more than I would have liked.

The other child still looks confused and while it was adorable, I was still terrified. Where was the writing? The name of my Soulmate was gone. The marks from the plasters were still there, as was the slight pain from yanking them off so roughly, but the elegant writing was nowhere to be seen. My finger practically burned from the absence of the plain brown bandages and I felt as though I was falling, despite my trainers still resting firmly on the soft, slightly overgrown, moist grass. The snow was already beginning to melt and turn to slush, the half sand and half snowman lopsidedly tilting to the left.

"I know, Dean. So is mine."

Was this kid for real?

"Well, yeah." I half yell, not wanting Sammy to come over. It would only open up a can of worms. That is exactly what my Dad had said the first time Sam had asked why he couldn`t know what name I had been given. "That is what I was trying to tell you a minute ago."

He blinks once. "Oh. I see. When you said I was missing my finger what you really meant was I was missing the name of my Soulmate."

"But you did have one?" I ask curiously, reaching out a pale arm and grasping hold of the metal fencing for support. The entire play park was spinning madly. Or maybe it was just me. If it continued for much longer I was seriously going to vomit all over the slushy ground.

"Do you feel dizzy? Or does your finger hurt?" I grip the metal tighter, sun faded and rusted flakes of red cracking off on my hands. Disgusted, I hastily wipe them on my jeans. "Or burn maybe?"

He turns away and nods briefly, the movement so small that if I had blinked I would have missed it. He looks sad for some reason and frightened. Tense too. His bony shoulders were hunched right up to just below his ears and his jaw was set stiffly. Small hands were bunched up into loose fists, the pale skin stretched taught over the knuckles.

"So, the writing on my finger has disappeared and so has yours." He nods to confirm this, even though it was clearly visible that there wasn`t even a single letter etched into his skin. "And this happened today?" I say it as a question, even though something deep inside was telling me that I already knew. It had happened shortly after he had strolled into the almost empty park. How I knew this, I didn`t know, not for sure anyway. The childish, far too colourful and sappy, but admittedly beautifully drawn movie I had sneakily watched recently comes to mind and I feel a lump in my throat and chest.

I was breathing heavily, the same way I had after sports day on the second last day of school last year, but this time it was different. I was afraid, not triumphant at my win. Yet, at the same time I was excited? Confused and scared, definitely, but almost a little bit curious. The spinning had lessened now so that I no longer felt sick, just a little lightheaded. It wasn`t entirely unpleasant. The only feeling I can remember that was even somewhat similar to this was from the last time the fairground had come to town.

Waltzers, a Ferris wheel, a carrousel and dodgems. What little kid wouldn`t love that? I remember begging and pleading to be allowed to go on this really high ride that took you up and then dropped you and lifted you over and over again. I can`t remember what it was called but it was covered in the brightest lights I had ever seen. Grudgingly, mum and dad had agreed and took over holding onto Sammy`s hand so he didn`t run off to the cotton candy stall again. I was trembling as the bar came down and knowing that there was no getting off until it stopped, but I was shaking equal amounts from the sheer excitement. The few seconds before the drop were the worst, longest seconds of the entire evening. I took a deep breath and then I was falling and there was no sign of stopping but I didn`t even care because it was an indescribable feeling of freedom and adrenaline.

That was how I felt right now.

I was falling and I was petrified, but it was exhilarating. I was breathless.

I threw up after the ride though, which did spoil things a little.

"Dean! Dean!" I half felt like I was going to vomit again when the other boy`s shouts pull me out of my thoughts.

This time, instead of asking how he knew my name I simply answer him with his own.

"James." How had I not known it before? This boy with his matted dark hair that was so brown it was almost black, his oversized raincoat and impossibly blue eyes was James. My James. My future. My…Soulmate. The word sends warm, gushy feelings through my entire body and I shudder.

"How do you-"he cuts of his own sentence. Could he feel it too? Please tell me he could. He continues to look confused for another minute. One incredibly loooong, frustrating minute before he break out into infectious laughter.

"Of course!" he giggles joyously, actually clutching his sides the way I had only seem people do in movies until now. "You`re him. You`re, Dean."

I nod like an over excited puppy dog and he rewards me with this big, toothy smile that makes my tummy do weird acrobatic flips I had only ever felt before while on a fairground ride.

"And you`re James."

James pulls a face and shakes his head and my heart does an awkward thud.

"I hate that name." he states in a bored tone.

"Well then, how about I give you a nickname?" I offer, tugging off my fleece lined winter coat. I was far too warm with it on, if I kept it on another second I would burn up. I lay it down like a picnic blanket next to the sandpit and sit down on it, gesturing with both hands for him to sit with me. He does and our knees brush. My leg is still tingling by the time I go home.

"A nickname?" James repeats uncertainly.

"Yeah!" I nod enthusiastically, placing one hand on his shoulder. It felt alien to not have a plaster on my finger, especially in front of someone. But James was my someone.

"A nickname that only I call you. Wouldn`t that be sweet?"

His pale cheeks flush and he ducks his head, shying away under his soft fringe. "That`d be nice." He admits in a soft, barely there whisper.

My face scrunches up in concentration. Sam was the one who came up with the best nicknames, but this was something that I had to do. But what if he didn`t like any of the names I came up with? After all, I was the one who had christened Sam with his preferred nickname. "Sammy," wasn`t exactly clever, witty or original.

"What about Jamie?"

"That`s a girl`s name!" he complains and my chest feels tight and achy. I had so badly wanted to impress him. He was right though, if I recall mum had a friend called Jamie who was a girl.

"My teacher was telling us about his daddy once. It was father`s day and we were making cards. We were allowed to use paint and glitter and everything." I tell him and he turns his head to look at me, clearly interested. "Anyway, he said his daddy was called James just like you. Only that nobody ever called him James."

I can almost see James` ears prick up. "What did they call him?"

"Jimmy." When he smiles I can tell I was on to a winner. I wasn`t sure how someone could go from "James," to "Jimmy," but I thought it was nice. I only hope my new found friend did as well.

"Jimmy." He tries it out and beams at me. "I like it!"

"I`m glad." I say and before I can stop myself, I wrap my arms around his skinny frame. After a second of hesitation he begins to hug me back. I felt warm and safe and wanted. Everything I felt when I hugged Sam, only one hundred million times more intense. James, no, Jimmy grins wider and briefly, innocently kisses my cheek. He leans over quickly, and all of a sudden I felt the softest, warmest brush of chapped, bitten lips against my wind burnt cheek.

"Hey there, Jimmy. Nice to meet you." I try and hide my embarrassment by covering it over with a new conversation.

"Dean, we have already met."

I chuckle and roll my eyes. "I know, but we never properly introduced ourselves. Hi Jimmy. I`m Dean Winchester."

"Oh! Hiya Dean Winchester." Jimmy says happily. "I am Jimmy Novak." Hearing him use the nickname I had given him makes me happier that it probably should.

"Do you want to go and play on the climbing frame?" I ask, quickly glancing over at Sam. I panic momentarily when I see the brand new bike leaning against the metal frame of the swing set but calm right back down again when Jimmy points at a tall four year old who was happily climbing the old green and red slide.

"I`m scared of heights." He admits and I chuckle.

I smirk as I get to my feet, dragging Jimmy with me. "Don`t worry about that, I`ll catch you!"