Her heart beat nervously with each passing second. She indulged her constant craving to look down at the small, practically unnoticaeble timer strapped to her wrist. 10 minutes. Of course she had to be here of all places. Not a romantic beach or skyscraper view. Nope; just the dirty, dingy subway.

7 and half minutes. Oh God, her stomach was in knots. Ever since the major corporation ViaCom had released the SMC (Soul Mate Finder) 2000, they’d been flying off the shelves. It wasn’t that she didn’t hope for love. No her heart ached for it.

She’d spent weeks, months, years, dreaming of who her soul mate was. She imagined him on rainy days; not too tall, not too lean, with a gorgeous laugh, and with eyes just the right balance of adorable and adoring. Of course, everybody harbored secret hopes deep inside of themselves that the person they’d spend their lives with was attractive and seemingly perfect, but, almost universally, love is messy.
5 minutes. When her mother had whipped four of these out from nowhere on Christmas morning a few months ago, her three sisters had grabbed them at the speed of light, strapping them on to their arms while professing their gratitude as if worshipping Christ himself. She, however, had been more hesistant. Was it right, to defy the laws of the universe and find out when and where she’d “bump” into this supposed stranger? She didn’t know.
And when she had finally put hers on, her sisters and she all compared their times. Lillian- 4 years and 3 months. Felicity- 2 years and 11 months. Penny- 6 years and 1 month. But Jennifer- 2 months and 16 days? Nothing was so unexpected from the girl expecting this kind of thing the least.
Since then, she’d seen loads of what society had dubbed “Timed Meetings,” which was basically a marriage proposal. You’d hear a beep, and then another, practically in unison. As the beeping became more eratic, it would get more high-pitched as the wearers would push people aside to get to their life-long lovers
1 minute. The train rumbled through the underground and screeched to a halt at another stop. A few people jostled her and bumped against her legs as they hurried to get to their meetings and classes and events, many others waiting to board outside.
30 seconds. She was going to faint…
20. Jesus Christ, help me…
15. I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this…
10. How
9. can
8. anybody
7. live
6. through
5. this?!
4. Wait…
3. is
2. that
1. him?
BEEP! People looked over, assuming, then confirming that it was what they thought it was. Almost immediately after hers, another beep. She stood up so fast she became lightheaded. Something deep inside of her told her to walk.
Right, left, right, left, her mind instructed her, remaining steadfast as her heart leaped into her throat. She could see him now. He appeared even more nervous than she did.
Oh, no, he wore nice clothes. Was she supposed to, too? Were there guidelines for this? A dress code? He was looking around slowly, then caught sight of her.
Time slowed down. He began to run. So did she. As the beeps began to whine, their tempo speeding up gradually, furiously sprinting at each other until they, these total strangers, collided in a fury of affection. He held her tight and she gripped him back. The crowd around them burst into applause, a few of the elderly sniffling happily.
He stepped back, but continued to hold her shoulders, and she heard her soul mate’s -suddenly that was a weird word to think- voice for the first time: “Let me look at you, beautiful.”
“Beautiful.” It was a great thing to be called, and instantly, she knew that the word did not compliment her appearance. It wasn’t her jeans covered in marker doodles, or her ratty, old cardigan she’d found lying on the floor that morning that he found attractive.
To him, the most appealing thing around them was the prospect of spending his life with this amazing spectacular girl. And with that, the pair kissed.