The Meeting

Untitled Part 1

        Curl after dark brown curl fell in front of her face. "You know you're not supposed to dress yourself up for the Meeting." I told her for the millionth time. Your match was supposed to see you as you always were, whether it's in boots and plaid shirt, or in Jess' case, sport's shorts and a tank top. Still, she ignored me. "Jess," I put a hand on her shoulder and she turned to look at me. "Liz, you know I can't help it." I nodded, she kept talking.

        "No one really follows that rule anyway." She ran a brush through her large curls, making them flatten out, but only a little bit. "I want my love to see me at my best." Jess began putting a small abount of mascara on, making her bright blue eyes stand out, still, she didn't need any of it.

        Jessica Burton didn't need any of the makup and hair product. She had a natural beauty that already made her stand out in a crowd. Her hair was naturally dark brown and straight. Her eyes her always that light blue, and when her face wasn't covered up with foundation, she had naturally blushed cheeks, the makeup only covered that up.

        She finished putting a thin coat of mascara on her eyelashes, then she turned to me. "You look nice." I smiled at her, but I could still see she was nervous. She was down to hours now. So close, but it wasn't joy I saw. She was scared. I could almost see the nerves surrounding her, engulfing her. "You'll be okay." She took my hands in hers and nodded, "I know." She looked down at my wrist. Numbers ran up my arm, 00-15-02-16-00. No more years. 14 days. 9 hours. 16 minutes. zero seconds. All the time until I met the person of my dreams.

        Jess traced the numbers on my arm. "Remember in high school when you got in trouble?" she smirked, "Because of that boy?" I nodded, remembering clearly. It was my sophomore year and I had a crush. It was a strong one too. Everytime he talked to me I felt my pulse speed up, my breathing became uneven, and nothing I did around him made sense.

        I told Jess about it and she was confused about the emotions I tried to explane to her, so I told my mom. She yelled at me for what I felt and told me to go to my room. When my father got home from work he came up to my room and told me my feelings weren't normal. He told me we weren't supposed to feel things like love. Humans don't feel love anymore. It's too dangerous.

        "What did it feel like?" She looked into my eyes, "What did love feel like?" I pulled my hands back. "I don't know what you mean,  It wasn't love." She gave me a sad smile. "Maybe it wasn't love, but I know it was something." She put on her coat and unlocked our apartment door. "You're different Liz. At first it scared me, but now..." she trailed off and walked out the door.

        I followed behind thinking about what she said. I knew my feelings weren't fake, but feelings are dangerous to have now. In the books my grandmother gave me, I read all about love. I read about some people named Romeo and Juliet, who in my opinion were just some stupid teenagers that had no clue what they were doing, but still, at least they were allowed to believe in what they thought was love. I had to hide what I knew was something more than "just another emotion."

        Jess and I arrived at the bus stop and I saw her glance at her wrist. 0 years. 0 days. 0 hours. 22 minutes. 14 seconds. I pulled out a book to wait for the bus that ended up being 15 minutes late. Jess was started to sweat as we got on. She had 2 minutes, but the bus was crowded. 

        "How do I know?" She leaned over to me, but I could only shrug. She looked at her wrist one last time, 30 seconds, then she stood up. She began counting down. "24, 23, 22..." when she got to 15 and no one stood up tears began running down her face, people began looking away, fearing she would be alone. If it got to zero and no one arrived, she was made to be alone, but she kept smiling, waiting for someone to stand up, waiting for that certain someone.

        Suddenly the bus jerked to a stop and Jess fell forward, making more tears stream down her face. I heard a banging on the right side of the bus and a hand was waving in the window, getting closer to the doors. The doors opened and a tall man stepped on, 18 or so, the same age as Jess and I. He was the kind of hunk that you would see in fashion magazines, except something about him made him look more approachable. Maybe it was his large almond eyes or soft looking blond hair.

        "Thought I would be late." He was walking to the back of the bus when he saw Jess. "Hey sweetheart, why so down?" he offered her a hand and she put her palm in his. As he pulled her up, he took a peak at her arm, ten zeros flashed at him, and he smiled. "Thought I wouldn't show up?" He wiped away her tears and people began staring as the bus started up again. 

        Jess looked into his eyes and smiled. "Hi love, I'm Jason." He brought her to and empty seat, but he stayed standing, still very close to her. "Jess." She wouldn't stop smiling, and neither would I. I was too happy. It was all fine, it was a rare case for anyone to end up alone, and every year less and less people are without a match. I ,ade me more confinent that I wouldn't be one of those rare cases, that I would be okay.

        For the next week I was alone in all of my college classes and Jess didn't show up for work. It was an excused absence in the government's eyes though. Jess needed time to get to know her new fiancee and spending all day at work and school is no way to do that. So everyone, after meeting their match, gets a week free of any sociatal duties.

        By the second week of their meeting, Jess was back. We talked about everthing in her new relationship, but when Friday came around she looked at me, "Are you nervous?" She looked beautiful in her wedding dress, even at 5:30 in the morning. "Why would I be nervous? You're the one getting married today."

        Every wedding is schedule two weeks after the couple meets so they can get to know each other and look for a house in the first week, in the second week they are able to unpack all their belongings and get used to each other's schedule, and shopping for wedding items was something already planned by the daughter and her parents beforehand. 

        "Don't you dare think I would forget." She scorned me, and I knew what she was talking about. Jess and I had memorized each others times since we became best friends. "I know, and I don't have a reason to be nervous." I lied, and Jess saw through it, but I kept smiling and she let it go.

        While Jess was finishig curling her hair and doing her makeup, I pulled up the lacey sleeve on the bright pink dress Jess picked for the bridesmaids. 00-00-14-23-40. I would be meeting my dream person at approximately 8:30. The wedding will end at 8 o'clock, I would be walking home by then, and I would be alone. Jason and Jess would be on their honeymoon by then and I would be left to walk home alone. 

        Throughout the wedding I did what any good bridesmaid would do. I said my speech, I made toasts, I helped out anyone who had questions, and I made it the best day of Jess' life. I even caught the bundle of flowers she threw. It had to be a good sign.

        20 minutes: I was walking home in my pink high heels and pink dress. At least I knew I stood out.

        15 minutes: My feet start to hurt, and although, like every other girl in the world, I wanted to look nice, I took off my heals and felt the cold concrete against my feet, which were in pantyhose.

        10 minutes: I slow down and debate putting my shoes back on, then decide against it.

        5 minutes: I get stuck at a red "no walking" sign. I wanted to go, I wanted to run. I thought maybe if I ran time would speed up. I wanted all ten numbers to be at zero.

        1 minute: "Hey!" I hear a person yelling from the other side of the red cross walk. Cars are zipping between us, but I could feel it. It was him. I waved at him and he returned the motion. When the light finally turned green I began running across the street, but he wouldn't do the same. He stood still, his mouth gaping. 

        Suddenly I felt a  burning sensation on my arm. The numbers were bright red and I could smell burning flesh. I screamed. It was my flesh burning. The foul scent filled my nose and when I looked up I saw the man, who just a minute ago was calling for me, lying on the ground, blood running from his side and staining his white t-shirt.