One minute, 42 seconds.

Her legs are quaking. It felt like the whole world had tilted. Holy cow, there is no way she can do this. None.

            One minute, 39 seconds.

Glancing around at the faces surrounding the room, they blurred into an unrecognizable mass. Of course. her Meeting would take place in a gross, overcrowded cafeteria.

            One minute, 12 seconds.

Somewhere within these four walls, someone has the exact same countdown on their wrist. They’re going through the same exact pressure.

            53 seconds.

Umma had told her to be excited, not nervous. Yet she still found herself wiping sweaty palms on a belligerent floral dress. I can’t believe she talked me into wearing a dress. I mean, shouldn’t my Soul Mate meet me as I normally am? All plain jeans, ratty converses, oversized t-shirts, bare faced and untamed brown curls. It was a packaged deal.

            47 seconds.

Something deep within tells her to stand up, pulling at her core. She does so, drawing the attention of the others at the table. They all know too. They smile encouragingly. I really need to stop doing this. She's gnawing on her already abused thumb nail nervously.

            31 seconds.

The same tugging pulls her toward the center of the mass. Her stomach drops away as she takes a step in that direction.

             20 seconds.

She resists the urge, just for a second, to continue in that direction. With each step the erratic beats of her heart suddenly even out but then sky rockets.

            18 seconds. Faster.

            17 seconds. Quicker.

            16 seconds. More rapid.

            15 seconds. It’s racing.

Oh my god. This is it.  The moment my life changes forever. It's over.

Her eyes are now flickering frantically, searching the cafeteria, searching for someone who looks as nervous as her. For someone who’s heading towards their future with no sense of direction.

            11 seconds.

The feeling directs her not so gently to the right. She spins to accommodate, to stop the insistent feeling.

            8 seconds. Her heart has given up entirely.

            7 seconds. She stops walking.

            5 seconds. Just waiting left.

            4 seconds. Everything is about to change.

            3 seconds. Deep breath.

            1 second. Here it goes.

00Y 00M 00D 00H – 00M 00.00S

Someone bumps her shoulder. Twirling around her darkened eyes meet liquid chocolate ones. “Hello there, love. It appears as though we’re Soul Mate then.” Oh God, his smile...

As her words fail, the only thing that flits through her mind is, I’m so glad I shaved this morning.