Check The Time

Chapter 3 - Matcher's Court

Amelia

"It'll be a half hour wait," the woman at the front desk re-states through her teeth.

Jett pulls at my arm, her cheeks slightly reddened. "Let's go sit," she insists for the hundredth time and this time I let her take me back to the seats.

"I can't believe they're making us wait!" I fume, gripping the arms of the chair as soon as I lower into it.

"The Matchers are always busy," Jett reminds me in a tone that is just as strained as the woman's. "Try to relax."

How dare she tell me what to do?! She acts as if this doesn't affect her in any way. My mom would be repulsed by the sight of this. The girl was careless, rude and she looked like a mangy, unkempt dog! I wonder what her parents thought when they conceived her and what they thought now. Probably that they couldn't possibly know where they went wrong.

Biting back snide comments, I glance around the room for the first time. The foyer is very large with swirling marble floors and four rows of plush white chairs lining the crimson walls. In thick italic letters on the outer face of the reception's desk read "Matchers Headquarters". High ceilings fade from red to pink to white, crown molding decorating the smooth sheetrock and two shiny, layered chandeliers give minimum lighting, sparkling beautifully. The stale smell of roses, and the faint yet pleasant smell of tulips gave the business-like atmosphere a nice homey feel. It would be much more enjoyable if I'd been here with my soulmate.

My soulmate... I wonder what he's doing at this very moment. What if he's sitting in some diner, staring at his food wondering where I am? What if he doesn't even know I'm his soulmate? What if someone else's name is on his wrist watch!? What if there was another Amelia?!?!

"Jett Gibson and Amelia Johnson?" A lady in her early thirties calls and I bounce to my feet, rushing over to her. "Oh, uhm, follow me this way ladies."

Jett soon appears to my right as the lady escorts us through the winding halls. We make lefts, rights, go up stairwells and through many doors before stopping in front of a room with towering double doors and a golden plaque on each door that reads "The Matchers Council". The woman knocks on the doors gently as if toddlers were on the other side of the room.

"Enter," a well aged voice slips from beneath the door frame.

The woman swiftly opens the door and gestures us in. Jett moves in front me, almost in a protective manner and ambles into the bright room. I frown deeply, following in after her.

The room is set with at least ten chairs on each side, one filled with men and the other with women and a large computer on a table a little ways away from the door. The walls are a greyish-blue hue and the floor is black tile that reflects my face. I suddenly feel insignificant and slightly ashamed of the fuss I threw prior to arriving at this room.

"Ah, Ms. Gibson, and Ms. Johnson," a woman with wrinkles creasing her face calls. "Glad you two ladies could join us today. We don't have many visitors."

"I agree," a man, well in his fifties nods and a few men crinkle their noses.

The small woman who escorted us then steps forward. "Their screens malfunctioned," she explains, not daring to look any of them in the eye. "They got each other's names when their matches commenced."

Gasps of disgust and distaste fill the room and I can't help but shrink even smaller into myself. Jett stands firmly though, her mud brown and hunter green eyes fixed on a man sat just beside the computer. He seems disinterested and unconcerned despite how the mood flipped from friendly to hostile. His hair is salt-and-peppered, but full and thick looking like he combs it with care. He doesn't seem as old as the rest of the councillors; he reminds me a bit of my uncle.

"They must've glitched. Search Gibsons and Johnsons males in their area. I want a report on my desk by," the pasty man glances at his wrist where a hunk of gold weighs it down, "four thirty. Sharp Addison."

Addison bows her head at the command and steps back behind Jett and I.

"What about us?" startled eyes turn to Jett, a few glowering at her as if she broke a law just speaking. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Well, go to your new housing unit. You ladies should be able to share a house for a few days. Think of it as an extended hotel visit," his voice is humorous, his black eyes almost taunting us.

Jett's knuckles turn white as she curls her fingers into fists, her ears a bright pink. "Thank you so much for the help," she says, sarcasm dripping from the words. "You're quite the gentleman."

His lips purse then he straightens his posture. "You are dismissed," he nods to the door behind us and I gladly rush out, Addison and Jett trailing behind me.

We walk in silence, continuing through the maze of the building and somehow we end up back at the front desk. "Unit 206 on the 8th floor of the United Structure," Addison softly utters, handing me a set of keys. ".. Be careful..."

I can't contain my confusion, but Jett's face is blank and she dips her head in recognition before turning and heading to the door.