Chapter 1: A Not So Happy Lunch

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My self control was wavering. I struggled not to look down at the silver band counting down on my wrist. It was only 4 days until I met my said "soulmate". I wish time would slow down. I don't think I am anywhere near ready to meet this guy. Most of my friends are worried their soulmate won't meet up to their expectations, but all I can think is, what if I dont meet up to their's? My hair, equivalent to the color of a crumpled, brown leaf, fell slightly past my shoulders, losing uniqueness the longer you stared at the monstrosity. Adding my dark brown eyes, basic seemed to describe me perfectly. Basic did not seem good enough.

I walked through the hallways examining my fellow classmates. My bestfriend, Faith, stood next to her boyfriend a short ways down the hallway. She waved me over grinning.
Faith and her boyfriend, Brad met two weeks ago when they bumped into eachother in unison with their clocks stopping.

I walked over to her and she greeted me with a hug.

"Hey, look it's the short kid!" Brad laughed. That was his way of greeting me. Faith shoved Brad lovingly and turned back to me quickly.

"Brad and I are going to Happy's today. Do you want to join?"

I bit my lip. Happy's Diner was my favorite restaurant, but I didn't want to intrude on their date. "No, I'll stay behind today. You guys should go have fun." I smile lightly, trying to show I'm happy for them. I am happy for them, but they are so perfect together. It is almost too uncomfortable to be around them. I couldn't ever let Faith know I felt that way, though.

Faith stuck her bottom lip out and continue to push. "Are you sure you will be fine?" She asked it teasingly, but I could tell at points she really was concerned.

"Yes! Now go eat lunch with your boyfriend or you won't have time!" I tease. Faith gave me one last smile and bounced off with Brad following behind her. I turned towards the cafeteria leaving the hallway behind me.

I sat down at a small round table made for two, but felt no urge to eat. My stomach was like a empty water bottle that was glued shut. There was no point in trying to fill it. Instead, I slid my brown satchel off my shoulder and grabbed my sketchbook. I doodled my silver watch, observing the tiny intricate patterns graved into the shiny metal. I watched the rays of light bounce off it, and I watched the numbers slowly count down. It was under 46 hours now. I turned back to my sketch when I processed what I read. My pulse quickened as I reread the small numbers confirming my fear. I had miscalculated. I would meet my soulmate tomorrow. . .

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