She doesn't believe it. She never has, not for a second. Don't misunderstand, she believes in true love, as ridiculous as it seems. She believes in love at first sight; but Myka Bering cannot bring herself to believe in the TiMER. Nevertheless, the morning after her 14th birthday, she awakes with a sharp pain in her left wrist as well as the sensation of metal cutting into her temple. Well, I guess I'm going to have to find a new way to sleep. It is a nuisance, to say the least. Everyone she meets, her friends, teachers, neighbors who have never been part of her life, want to know how much time is left. It isn't worth it to her. If she is truly going to meet her One, she shouldn't need an implant in her arm to announce it to the world. Myka's parents were married with two children before the TiMER was marketed. Jeannie and Warren Bering would be divorced by now if it weren't for Myka and Tracy, Myka's younger sister. Wanting to be a family for their daughters, they did the best they could to provide a loving home. But Myka knew. Of course she knew. She'd found unsigned divorce papers around the house on more than one occasion. Not that Myka needed tangible evidence to know her parents were miserable together. She found herself wishing on more than one occasion that her parents would go through with it. After all, it wasn't easy growing up with an overly-controlling mother and verbally abusive father whose arguments would keep her awake and cause Tracy to crawl into bed with her to try to ward off tears prompted by shouting and slamming doors. When the TiMER was proven effective, the Berings decided they wanted their daughters to be able to avoid re-creating their parents' marriage.

Myka had tried for months to hide it from the world. And from herself. Her particularly annoying best friend, Pete Lattimer, was the only one who knew. He'd convinced her to let him look if he wouldn't tell her. One day, though, the multiple bracelets she wore to cover the TiMER had to come off.

Myka Bering is 16 years old. Myka Bering is a sophomore in high school in Colorado Springs. Myka Bering is an avid reader, remarkable fencer, a quiet observer. Myka Bering is going to meet her One in 3 days.

I don't want to. You're being a child. But why did I have to find out today? Destiny? Don't be facetious; I just don't want to know when I meet him until I do. The damn TiMER already screwed up my relationship with Sam, my ex-boyfriend with a still-blank TiMER. We'd always hoped his was blank because I was still too young to get one. I'm almost halfway home before I realize I am crying.

Pete had dragged me to one of his football practices during lunch. Of course, being the awkward, lonely screw-up Myka Bering always in the wrong place at the wrong time I ended up taking a football to the back of the head. I woke up to a pounding headache under the fluorescent lights of the nurse's office, Pete babbling incoherently somewhere to my right. Something about "-accident I swear!" The mixture of the bright light and Pete's voice makes me wince, groaning as a new round of throbbing to the back of my head. The nurse immediately turns back to shine a bright light in my eyes, shaking her head. So, I have a concussion. Pete won't shut up, apologizing profusely. As if I wouldn't have found a way to get hit if hadn't called to me. The nurse could see me wince each time he started trying to apologize again and sent him away. "So, are you excited?" "Um…" What the hell is she talking about? "I mean, three days until you meet your One, I couldn't stop thinking about it once mine got to one month, much less 3 days." My eyes flew to my left wrist. She'd removed the bracelets to check my pulse. 02days 11hours 23minutes 47seconds

No.

I'm not sure how long I stayed that way. I was brought back to some plane of reality by the nurse checking my pulse, shining that damn flashlight in my eyes, and calling: "Ms. Bering. Ms. Bering? Is everything okay?"

No, no, no, no, NO

Despite the pounding behind my eyes I jumped out of the chair and ran. "Myka!?" I was vaguely aware of Pete following me, but nothing truly registered but the panic gripping my heart, constricting my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Not yet, not now, not ever

I ran across the field, still occupied by the football team, not caring if I got in their way.

Maybe I'll wake up and have imagined…

"Mykes, wait up!"

Yeah. I'm still unconscious in the nurse's office

I ran the whole way home, Pete trailing behind, still in his football gear. I ran into my parents' bookstore, past my mother, and straight to the stairway leading to my family's apartment. "Myka?" I ran into my room, locking the door behind me. "Myka? Are you okay?" I breathed a heavy sigh letting my weight collapse against the door, sliding until I was sitting on the floor. "Myka, answer me, you're scaring me." No way in hell was I opening the door. "Peter!?" "HI MRS BERING!" And then there was Pete running down the hallway and…

THWACK

Straight into my locked door.

The adrenaline of the unveiling of the TiMER and the subsequent chase home left my body as I sat, crying, I now realize, on the floor. Feeling the anger drain from my body, I gave in to the sobs threatening to take over.

No one ever understood why I didn't want the TiMER. To be honest, I'd been disenchanted with the whole idea since I was a child. Growing up with your nose in a book teaches you to believe in love and hate, hope and despair, choice and destiny; all human emotions. It just never fit to believe that love, an emotion at the very core of human existence, needed such a device to show itself. I always believed that the TiMER made a mockery of love, making it something bought instead of learned. "But Myyyyyyykes, you HAVE to get a TiMER. What if I'M your One, wouldn't you want to know?" "Pete, I'm sure you're not my One," I laughed, "But don't you want to KNOW?" To which I punched him in the arm. "Mykes," he pouted, we'd been best friends for a long time, and he knew I couldn't handle his pout. "Fine," I huffed "I'm sorry, I just don't think I should need a TiMER to know that I love somebody. What if you were my One? Wouldn't it bother you that we didn't feel that way before?" "I never said I didn't." I scowled "Pete," "be serious, wouldn't it be weird to find out that someone you'd never thought of that way was supposedly your true love? And what about timing? Even if you meet someone as a kid, would you want to know that maybe 10 years later you would feel that way about her? It's just...too soon." It took more to convince my parents. They still don't get why I didn't want to see the TiMER. They assumed that it was anticipation and so long as they left me alone about it I wasn't going to argue. So much for that, I thought regretfully.

I was torn back to the present by an insistent knocking at my door.

"C'mon Mykes, open up!"

"Go away Pete," I trembled with the sobs still wracking my body.

I could hear my mother and Pete talking quietly on the other side of the door. Why won't they just leave me be?

I heard someone retreat from the door and down the stairs. "Hey Myka, will you let me in?" I sat rocking against the door, arms wrapping around myself, nails digging into flesh trying to hold myself together. "Myka, you know I won't give up until you talk to me." "Just GO AWAY Pete," I screamed, surprised by the way my voice broke with the shrill exclamation. I heard Pete step back from the door like he'd been burned. I don't scream like that. See what this thing is doing to me? "Please," I choked on the word.

Pete didn't say anything for a while, and then, "Do I have to go get Claudia?" That got my attention. "Pete, I swear to god if she breaks my door you are explaining it to my parents." "Oh come on she won't break your door." I can almost hear him roll his eyes. "Just strip it's hinges," I replied bitterly. I was no longer sobbing, though there was still a steady trail of tears spilling down my cheeks. I don't like crying, it's messy, and vulnerable, and vulnerability gets you hurt. And it leaves you exhausted. Right now she just wanted to cry until she fell asleep, and maybe this wouldn't be happening. "I will go get her if you don't unlock the door." Eventually I stood and opened the door, one hand on the door, the other gripping the doorframe for support. "And now you'll leave me alone?" I hope.

Pete softened as he took in his best friend's disheveled appearance. "Sorry bud, but not gonna happen." Pete stepped into her space, wrapping her up in a bear hug. Myka took a deep breath, not wanting to be around anyone, but too exhausted to protest. They stood this way for a while, Pete content knowing Myka was more collected, Myka content to revel in the silence. "You going to be okay?" "Do I have a choice?" Pete sighed, "Come on." Myka let him lead her over to her bed, crossing her arms tightly. She didn't protest when he sat down, leaning against the headboard, and let him pull her over next to him. Pete pulled her back into his arm. "So, do you want to tell my why you're so upset about this?" She rolled her eyes. "You already know, Pete." "Tell me again?" "Right after you get your shoes off my bed." Pete had to smile at that. Even when she was manic depressive she was still Myka "Quit avoiding the question."

"I'm 16." She left it at that.

"And?"

"And Sam and I just broke up."

"You two broke up 4 ½ months ago."
"And?"

"4 months isn't 'just broke up"

"It is when you love someone."

"Love?"

"Yeah, love, Pete."

"No, I mean love? Not loved?"

"I-I don't know, Pete," Myka exclaims getting up and starting to walk away. Pete grabs her wrist to turn her back around, when his hand encounters something sticky and dark. "Jesus Christ, Myka!" He pulls her back around to look more closely at her left wrist. "What?" she sniffs, watching as he pokes at different spots on her wrist "OW, Pe-oh"

"Yeah 'oh." Myka's left wrist is bloodied and torn around the TiMER, which is now caked in dried blood.

"Di-did I do that?"

"Well I sure as hell didn't"
"I don't remember…It must've been when I locked my mom out, I knew about these" she gestured to the red marks on her arms where her nails had dug in during her crying fit "but…" Pete just sat her down on her bed, and walked out of her room, returning a few minutes later with a roll of bandages to see her still sitting, staring at her wrist like it was an alien presence to her body. Pete was careful as he cleaned away the blood and wrapped the bandages around her wrist. "At least it will cover the TiMER." Pete clenched his jaw ruefully as he finished off the wrapping and returned them to their earlier position on the bed.

"I know that it's less romantic than just looking someone in the eyes and knowing, but you are going to meet your One in three days. At least you won't have to guess, and who knows, when the time comes, you might just know, even without the TiMER."

"All I know is I'm supposed to meet the love of my life in three days, and I just don't want to."

"C'mon, Mykes." Pete exclaims in a frustrated tone "Some of us have to wait…9,231days 10hours 27minutes 52seconds"

Myka sighs in defeat. This has always been a touchy subject with Pete. Imagine finding out at 14 years old that no relationship is going to work until you're 41 years old. That's why he wanted to see Myka's when she got it. He wanted to know if he would have someone to wait with. She wishes she could, she really does.

"I'm sorry, Pete. It's just, doesn't that bother you at all? You're a sweet guy, you have plenty of suitors," she nudges his shoulder, he snorts, "what I'm trying to say is, what if it's a self fulfilling prophecy?"

"I'm not following…"

"What if nothing ever works out until that clock reaches zero, because the clock exists? It's human nature, Pete. Humans are possessive and defensive. When you love someone, you want reassurance they're yours and only yours. And humans subconsciously strive to protect themselves from harm, and that includes heartache. It's not that far a reach to say the fact that there's tangible 'evidence' to say that they will never be yours is enough to keep someone from even trying. What if you could fall in love, or meet your true love before the TiMER goes off, but neither of you would recognize what's there because a machine says otherwise? And then, even if it wouldn't really work out with the person the TiMER claims is your One, the power of suggestion makes you believe it?" By now Myka's voice has reached a crescendo. She's about to start crying again, and Pete holds her tighter as her voice drops to a whisper "What if you could be happy before 41 years old? What if Sam and I could have been happy, even for a while longer? I think the TiMER breaks apart just as many people as it brings together." Turning so he's right next to her ear, Pete whispers, "And you are reading too much psychology." Myka has to smile at that, albeit a weak smile, and makes a choked sound akin to an indignant laugh.

They sit in companionable silence for a while, Myka's arms still wrapped around her, though no longer to hold herself together, and Pete's arms still hold her to his chest. "I'm sorry. If it's any consolation, you'll be a great One for someone. Well worth the 25 years for them." "Well, in a couple of days if you don't like him I'll be free for a while" Pete says jokingly; Jokingly on the surface, at least. Myka thinks, for a moment, that she could be happy like this, with him. She's never felt drawn to Pete in that way, but she does love him, and you can't exactly be friends for 12 years and not act somewhat couple-y. I mean, we've been cuddling together in my bed for the last hour and a half. But Myka knows that he'll find someone, and hopes she will too. She doesn't need the TiMER to tell her whom she loves. And she doesn't need it to tell her whom she isn't meant for.

They lay there for a while, laughing and teasing, Pete coming up with the kinds of disaster scenarios for when Myka's TiMER rings that only Pete could think of. Eventually, though, Pete stands from the bed, causing Myka to yelp and glare at him for displacing her. "Well, I know you're not planning on going back to school, but since I'm not such a delinquent," Pete teases "I should get going." He thinks she can handle it, but he can't help but glance at the bandages adorning Myka's left wrist. "You'll be okay? I mean, do you need me to-" "I'm fine Pete…Really, I'll be okay." He still doesn't totally buy it, but he knows that she's as okay as she'll be in this situation, and so he tousles her hair, ignoring the reappearance of her indignant glare, and turns to leave. "Just—call me if you need me. Bye Mykes!"

Myka sits on her bed, listening to the sound of Pete's quick conversation with her mother, maybe she'll leave me be, now, and the chime of the bookstore door as he leaves. Myka lets go of a breath she doesn't realize she was holding, and falls backward onto the bed.

What the hell do I do now?