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Tyler is only in fourth grade when his timer starts to beep.
He doesn't even know what's happening at first. One moment his teacher is explaining long division on the chalkboard and the next moment everyone can hear the loud beeping sound filling the room.
Tyler watches as several of his classmates frantically check their wrists before breathing sighs of relief. The other kids just look around, looking confused.
The teacher, after checking her own wrist, asks everyone to put their left arm on their desk. Tyler complies, and frowns when he notices that his wrist reads the numbers 4736-8-19-21 frozen instead of the usual countdown.
"Oh," Tyler's desk neighbor says, eyes widening as she points to Tyler's wrist. "Oh, Tyler."
"What?" Tyler says, scared by the sad look in her eyes. "What does it mean?"
His neighbor just shakes her head, covering her mouth with her hand.
The teacher walks over when she hears them talking, and catches sight of the frozen 4736-8-19-21 on Tyler's skin.
"Oh, Tyler," his teacher says, echoing his neighbor. "I'm so sorry."
"What?" he says. "What's going on?"
"I'm going to get Mr. Philips to watch the class, and then we're going to go to the office, all right?" the teacher says gently, placing a hand on Tyler's hand briefly before heading out.
"What's going on?" Tyler says to his quiet classmates. "What's happening?"
"I'm really sorry, Tyler," one of his classmates says softly.
Some of the other kids voice their sympathies as well. Even one of the mean kids in the classroom says he's sorry. One girl even gives Tyler a piece of candy. Tyler pockets it, utterly bewildered.
The teacher comes back in and ushers him out.
"Am I in trouble?" he asks.
"What?" she says. "Oh, no, Tyler, you're not in trouble."
"Why are we going to the office, then?" Tyler asks.
"We're going to call your parents," his teacher says, opening the door to the office. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble."
Tyler frowns as he walks in.
"Have a seat, okay?" the teacher says, gesturing to the chairs. "I'm going to go call your mom and dad."
Tyler sits.
His teacher steps into another room and he hears her begin to speak to someone in a hushed tone. Eavesdropping is bad, but Tyler's so confused, so he listens in.
"...so young. It's a shame," someone Tyler doesn't recognize is saying.
"He's such a sweet kid, too," his teacher says with a sigh. "I'm dreading to see what happens to him after this."
"Hopefully his parents watch him carefully," the other person says. "Maybe get him a therapist. It's not going to be easy for him."
"Yeah," his teacher says. "Could you send for the nurse? He doesn't seem to understand what's going on, but just in case..."
Tyler frowns. Understand what? Why does he need a nurse?
"Of course, of course," the unknown person says, and he hears them punch something into a keypad. "Mrs. Thomas? You're needed in the office." There's a pause. "One of the timers on one of the students froze." Another pause. "Thank you."
"I'm going to call his parents, if that's all right?" Tyler's teacher says. "Thank you."
There's some keypad punching, and then Tyler hears, "Mrs. Joseph?" A pause. "We have Tyler here. Well, he's-" there's a sigh. "His timer froze." There's a longer pause. "Yes, we'll be here. Take your time."
She hangs up, and that's when the nurse walks in.
"Hello," the nurse says, looking at Tyler's arm. She looks at his wrist, at the 4736-8-19-21 frozen on his skin, and her facial expression becomes sympathetic.
"What's your name?" she asks, sitting down next to him.
"I'm Tyler," he says.
"How are you feeling, Tyler?" she asks.
"Fine," he says. "I don't know what's going on. Why am I here? Why are you here? Why are my parents coming?"
The nurse looks at him sadly. "I'm going to let your parents explain it to you, all right? I'm just going to be here if you don't feel well."
Tyler frowns. "...okay."
He sits quiet for a while, fidgeting a little as he waits for his mom to arrive. His teacher comes out of the room, says she's sorry and good luck before going back to the classroom.
"Tyler?"
"Mom?" Tyler says, standing up as his mom walks in, followed by his dad. "Dad? Don't you have work?"
"I'm taking today off," his dad says, running a hand through Tyler's hair. Both Tyler's parents are looking down, and he realizes that they're both looking at his wrist.
"It stopped counting down," Tyler says, holding his wrist out to show them. "Why did that happen?"
His mom bends down and hugs him tightly. "Let's go get some ice cream, okay?" she says. "We'll tell you why then."
His parents let him get three scoops of mint chocolate chip.
"So," Tyler says after a couple bites, "why did the numbers stop flashing?"
His father sighs, holding out his own arm. "Tyler, you see how my wrist doesn't have any numbers, just lines?" Tyler nods. "That happened the moment I met your mother. I had numbers, a timer, as it's called, just like yours, and they kept counting down right until I met her."
"Same with me," Tyler's mother says. "My timer was exactly the same as your father's. It was always in sync."
"Tyler, the timer counts down the days, hours, and seconds until you meet your soulmate," his father says.
Tyler furrows his eyebrows as he swallows a bite of the ice cream. "Soulmate?"
"A soulmate is someone who will love you unconditionally, and you in return," Tyler's mother says. "Your father and I, we're soulmates."
"Oh," Tyler says. "So why did mine stop counting down?"
His parents both look at him with sad expressions.
"Tyler," his mother says softly, "the timer stops counting when your soulmate dies."
Tyler's twenty-two now. He did the math, and he did it again. If his soulmate hadn't died, he would be meeting them today.
Tyler sighs and kicks at the sidewalk. Dammit.
He ignores the sympathetic glances of the people he passes when they see the bracelet covering his timer. He's used to it.
He checks his phone. Five minutes. He sighs. Dammit.
Tyler wanders aimlessly for a while, checking his phone every so often and cursing himself for making himself sad.
One minute.
He sighs, looking at the passing traffic beside him. He looks down at his thick bracelet, hiding his crude attempts to carve out his frozen timer.
Thirty seconds.
Damn damn damn soulmate. Why did they have to die? Maybe he'd have some meaning. Maybe he wouldn't have had to go through years of therapy. Maybe he'd be able to be happy.
Ten seconds.
Tyler looks up at rushing traffic. He shifts his weight from foot to foot before looking down at his left wrist. He rips the bracelet off and throws it to the ground before onto the street.
Three...
Two...
One...
Tyler's suddenly tackled back, and his eyes fly open as cars screech and honk.
"What the hell were you doing?!" someone is shrieking at him, and his eyes find a boy, maybe the same age as him, pressing him against the ground.
"Why..." Tyler stutters out, looking around. "Why did you..."
His eyes catch sight of his own scarred wrist, and something in him snaps.
"LET ME GO!" he shrieks, pushing against the boy. "LET ME DIE! I WANT TO DIE!"
The boy has tears streaming down his cheeks. "Please, listen to me-"
"I WANT TO DIE!" Tyler screams at him, trying to push him off. "LET ME DIE, LET ME DIE, LET ME DIE, PLEASE!"
"No, no, no, please-"
"WHY DO YOU CARE?!" Tyler shouts. "WHY DO YOU CARE? I'M NOBODY! I'M WORTHLESS! LET- ME- DIE!"
"NO!" the boy screams back, and Tyler's startled into falling silent. "No," the boy repeats. "No, I am not going to let you die."
"Why?" Tyler whispers.
The boy gives him a puzzled look. "Don't you watch your timer?" he says. "I'm your soulmate."
Tyler stares. "What?"
"Your soulmate," the boy repeats, but Tyler's shaking his head.
"No, no, no," he says, covering his eyes. "You're not."
"I am," the boy says, holding his wrist up, and Tyler sneaks a peak at the 0-0-0-0 flashing on his wrist.
"No," Tyler breathes. "No, no, no."
"Why don't you believe me?" the boy asks, sounding hurt. "I'm your soulmate." He fumbles for Tyler's wrist. "Let me show you," he says, ignoring Tyler's protests.
The boy freezes. "Why-" he begins, voice cracking. He clears his throat. "Why would you do this?" He looks hurt as he stares at Tyler's wrist and his attempt to cut the timer from his skin. "Why?"
"My soulmate..." Tyler begins, pressing his palms to his eyes. "My soulmate is dead."
The boy stares at him.
"I don't know who you are," Tyler says softly, "but I'm sorry. I'm not your soulmate."
"Your numbers," the boy says suddenly.
"4736-8-19-21," Tyler says dully.
"That was around thirteen years ago, right?" Tyler nods. "I-" the boy swallows hard, "I died thirteen years ago. Hit by a car."
Tyler blinks.
"I was clinically dead for three minutes before they managed to resuscitate me," the boy says softly. "I- I guess that screwed your timer up. I'm sorry."
Tyler's mouth opens and closes.
"I'm sorry," the boy repeats. "I- I, um, I'm Josh, by the way."
Tyler's still speechless.
"What's your name?" the boy asks.
"T-Tyler," he stutters. "I- I'm Tyler."
Josh nods.
"I hated you," Tyler blurts. "For- for alienating me. From everyone else with their timers counting down. For making me believe I'd never be whole."
"I'm really sorry," Josh says softly.
Tyler sighs. "You were hit by a car. It wasn't your fault."
Josh sighs before standing up and holding out a hand for Tyler. Tyler takes it.
"Promise you won't go back into the traffic if I let you go?" Josh asks, smiling a little, but his eyes look scared.
"Promise," Tyler says, but he doesn't let go of Josh's hand.