What? What’s happening? I take deep, heavy breaths, trying to think logically. Maybe it’s a few seconds off. I’ve never heard of a MatchClock malfunctioning, but maybe it’s off by a few seconds . . . I go to the door and look out, praying that he’ll be standing right there, that this weird nightmare will be over. But there’s nothing - no one. My legs, numb will shock and horror, stumble backwards and my back hits the wall hard as I slide down the the carpet.

        How could this happen? I try to stop hyperventilating, to think. MatchClocks don’t malfunction. They just don’t. Then what’s going on?

Maybe it’s nothing to do with me. Maybe something happened with my soulmate. But no, that doesn’t make sense. Maybe he was hurt. That doesn’t work either. I knew a senior who had run down the hall to MatchRoom an hour before her Meeting, and her soulmate had ended up doing the same thing. They had collided in front of the MatchRoom door and she had sustained a concussion, he a broken leg. They had both been rushed to the emergency room, and right as their clocks ticked to zero, she woke up and saw him in the bed adjacent to hers. If my soulmate was hurt or detained from the MatchRoom, I would be too.

I have to tell someone. But who? Superintendent Perrella? No way. She’s about a thousand years old, and something tells me that I would regret involving her in my love life.

Amberly. Obviously. She’ll understand. She’ll calm me down. But as I stand shakily up, the overhead intercom crackles, announcing the arrival of a message from the school’s admin. I hear a wave of hushes echo outside the door - this is unusual.The school is such a well-oiled machine that there are hardly any immediate changes that need to be made in our schedule. Everyone communicates with the with the school using the DigiBoard in the commons. I’ve only heard two messages be through the near-ancient intercom.

“Would Skylar Sujiro please report to the Superintendent’s office. Skylar Sujiro to the Superintendent.”

        Of course. I’d been stupid not to think that the MatchClock wouldn’t send some kind of signal to LifeTime. I’m certain this was just a mistake, a rare glitch in the system. All eyes land on me as I open the door and walk out of the building, but I’m so relieved I don’t care about the stares. Someone tampering, possibly? Hah. If that’s the case, they’ll be thrown in an reformatory for life. The thought is oddly comforting. This wasn’t meant to happen; it’s LifeTime’s fault, not mine.

        I’ll walk through the door to see Superintendent Perrella standing beside my Match, a handsome, well-dressed man with a white, crooked smile.

        “We deeply apologize for the confusion this mishap has caused, Miss Sujiro. I assure you, the person responsible will be punished greatly,” Mrs. Perrella says. “They are looking into it already. For now, enjoy this time with your Match.”

        He’ll hold up his wrist, revealing a clock ticked down to zero, and say something sweet or funny while he leads me out into the hall. I’ll tell Amberly everything afterward over ice cream at ElectroCrave after school and she’ll cling onto my every word, and we’ll love it so much that we won’t even mind the decreased dinner portions on spaghetti night.

        The very idea of this situation widens a pleased, content smile across my face. It will be more that corrected. It will be perfect.

And with that though, I walk through the metal office door of the admin building and come face to face with a wall of gray fabric. Going over my head. Touching the glossy white tile of the floor. Flipping upwards, and whipping my legs out from under me.

Is this . . . am I . . . no. It’s not like any kidnappings happen anymore. That can’t be it. It can’t be. But it is. It’s happening.

“WHAT’S HAPPENING! WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME!””

I’m greeted only by a thudding, dizzy feeling in my head. A vice wrapped around my lungs. Airtight. It’s airtight! Black.