Daylight Savings [E.D]

Daylight Savings

"No, the one wi-with the hat on backward, in the grey sweatshirt," she muttered behind you.

"Uh," you sifted through the crowd of them. "I mean, he's alright?" you said, squinting your eyes in confusion. He was cute, but not striking and certainly not stutter-inducing or jaw-dropping. That other one though, Red Backpack, he was a whole different story.

"I think I might be in love," Ella groaned, leaning forward on her elbows and staring at him.

You rolled your eyes and said, "Go talk to him, then!"

She scoffed and sputtered out, "Are you crazy?! Talk to him?! I can't just go up and talk to him!"

You couldn't believe Ella, who had always been so confident and collected, was stumbling over some stranger. "Alright, I'll just get his attention then-"

"(Y/N), you wouldn't," she threatened, grabbed your arm with a boa-constrictor grip.

"Ow!" you hissed reflexively. You glared down at her hand when you saw the date. 06.04.18. - 1:55 A.M. Today. You felt butterflies bloom in your own belly and you looked up and gave her a soft grin. "I so would, thank me later. Hey grey sweatshirt!" you shouted, ignoring the searing pain in your arm as Ella tore on your wrist.

"(Y/N), stop," she whined.

The team's rowdy conversation died, whispers ensuing. "Derek, I think that girl wants you," Red Backpack smirked, shoving the boy forward.

"(Y/N), please," Ella begged, yanking on you.

"No, not me, my friend over here," you replied, waving over Derek. He walked with confidence, encouraged by the shoves of his friends and their whistles. You turned back to Ella and grabbed her wrist, bringing it to her face. "It's your time honey," you winked, sliding out of the booth to make room for Derek. Her face fell ghostly pale, but you just squeezed her hand and scooted away. You slipped by Derek and offered him a warm smile, who, despite his swaggering strut, was gnawing on his lip destructively. You passed Red Backpack and blushed furiously as his jaw dropped at the sight of you, your stomach bubbling with heat. Your knees wobbled as you left the diner, ignoring the urge to turn around and talk to that boy, say one word, because this wasn't your day–this was Ella's.

You drove out to your favorite lookout, deserting her with her soulmate, a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach. You had daydreamed about your own experience time and time again, and you had witnessed dozens of meetings in your seventeen years, but seeing your best friend find the one was beautiful. You had secondhand euphoria. You couldn't believe how instant that click was, how quickly she fell for him and just knew.

As you sat out on the hood of your car, you thought. You had daydreamed about what he would look like; maybe he was a surfer boy from California with shaggy blonde hair and bronzed skin, or maybe he was pale as snow and had a thing for English literature. He could be a star athlete or a natural-born mathematician or a guitar player. The possibilities were endless, but you were especially hopeful for thick brows, a sharp jawline, and a hockey fascination.

You weren't sure you could wait four more years out when there was someone out there like that for you.

-

You grew up a little in four years.

Because after seventeen years of obsessing over this potential man, you asked your mom a question that had been itching you for years. "Mom, how did you meet dad?"

She smiled softly and flushed red across her cheeks. "We were eleven, and I was nervous as ever, not sure where I should be on my day. So, I threw on my suit and hiked to the beach. As I soaked up the sun, a boy stood over me, dripping water all over my towel, and said, 'are you my soulmate?', and I panicked because this boy was so relaxed and yes, he was my soulmate! But it turns out he'd been asking every person in a mile radius that for half an hour before he asked me, and he just happened to get lucky," she laughed freely.