Why Don't We date already? | oneshots

bleachers

In this world, everyone had a timer inserted into their skin. It clocks down the time until you meet your soulmate. If you have not found your soulmate by the time the clock turns 00:00:00:00 (year: month: day: hour: minute: second), the timer will reset if you will meet your soulmate again.

inspo: "Time" in written in the stars by my fav kepotts21

*****

Logan growled at the timer etched on her arm.

It was bad enough it showed the exact year, month, day, hour, minute, and second you would meet your soulmate. But they had to put a reset button on it.

When Logan was born, her dads noticed her timer.

04:11:08:08:32:26.

Four years, eleven months, eight days, eight hours, thirty-two minutes, and twenty-six seconds.

On August 24, at eight thirty-two a.m., four year old Logan Avery sat in her kindergarten classroom and watched as her timer counted down to 00:00:00:00:00:00. She was so obsessed with her timer, she missed the boy passing in front of her on his way to his friends, his arm showing twelve zeros as well. However, she spent the rest of the day wondering why it only showed zeros.

By the next day it had reset to:

00:00:00:08:24:57.

Again, Logan watched her timer and didn't notice the boy chatting with his friends and passing her in the hallway.

Her dads figured out that her soulmate went to Logan's school, but they decided to let their daughter be. She needed to discover her soulmate herself, as the story of Jack Avery and Zach Herron meeting wasn't that different.

Jack had frequented the skateboard shop that Zach had worked at, and it was only when the boys crashed into each other when they felt the sparks that all soulmates remember feeling. They couldn't believe they were soulmates, even though the timers had shrunken to form JRA on Zach's arm and ZDH on Jack's arm. It took a year, several dates, and a lot of denying to get the boys to finally admit their feelings for each other. And they were the better for it.

The day after the last day of kindergarten, Logan's timer read:

00:03:07:08:36:14.

Three months, seven days, eight hours, thirty-six minutes, and fourteen seconds.

Now in first grade, she walked to her desk, nearly bumping her knee as she watched her timer. No dice.

The cycle repeated. Through grades 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10. And finally, grade 11.

Junior year of high school.

At this point, she just wanted the timer to disappear. She had spent the last twelve years trying to find her soulmate, and every day he passes her by.

*****

It was the day of prom.

"He's going to be at prom."

"Then go," Logan's best friend, Polina, replied as she applied mascara. "At what time exactly?"

"00:00:00:06:03:58," Logan grumbled, watching her friend pose in the mirror. She got up from her seat on her friend's bed with a sigh, settling down next to her on the small bench in front of Polina's vanity. "Six hours, three minutes, and some change."

"Well," Polina sighed, "at least you have a timer."

Timers were sort of a touchy subject for Polina. She was one of the rare few that were born without one. This usually meant that they would have a successful career or would have no true soulmate. Polina's Olympic gold medals in figure skating could attest to the fact that she had found her successful career.