Remember Me For Centuries

When a baby is born, a silver band is placed onto its wrist with a number inscribed on the inside. A member of the opposite sex also born that day is given a band with the same number. It is a system to insure the survival of the human race. On their eighteenth birthday, the bands are snapped and plugged into a computer system which reveals the database involving their soul mates.
But what if the person who is programmed to be your soul mate isn't who you want to spend the rest of your life with?


This is my entry for the 'Name On Your Wrist' contest--it would mean so much to me if you gave me feedback on this, or even just read it. Criticism would be welcomed with open arms. I hope you enjoy it!!


11. Chlorine Kissed Summer Skin


Hey, I just wanted to put a quick note in here, despite the fact I think author’s notes are insanely unprofessional, whoops :/ I only have a couple more days until the deadline of this competition and will, obviously, be finishing it quite soon. I just wanted to say that I’m so grateful for anyone who reads/comments/gives feedback on this story because it always makes me feel all warm inside to see people actually giving this movella life. :) Also, I’m so sorry for the fact some of these chapters are really short; I have tons of homework and stuff to do and it kills me that I don’t have enough time to write long chapters. :( Anyway, thank you for coming on this journey with Caleb and Megan and I really hope the competition goes well for anyone participating!


The shrill of a phone woke me. I rolled over in the darkness, groaning.
The phone light near blinded me as I squinted to read the number. Unknown.
I slid my thumb across the bottom bar and, rubbing the bridge of my nose, croaked, “Hello?”
“I have exciting news,” someone said, far too loudly for three a.m. “News that doesn’t involve any disgusting 39p fizzy drinks.”
I pressed my face into my pillow. “Who is this?”
A snort. “I take the time out of my life to put my number in your phone and you don’t even give me a contact name. Typical.”
I stifled a laugh into the pillow. “Caleb, has no one ever told you that calling someone at ass o’clock in the morning is not acceptable?”
“Hey, adopted, remember?” he teased. “I have a right to being rebellious and, y’know, being a bad boy?”
It was my turn to snort. “Bad boy. Right. What did you get on your biology test, again? 93% or something?”
Ignoring me, he excitedly said, “I have news, Megan, news that you will want to hear and you keep cutting me off, your ruining my flow—“
“Get on with it,” I whined.
“Jeez, remind me to never call you again before noon.”
Taking a deep breath, Caleb’s voice dropped and he whispered, “They accepted my appeal. Tracy isn’t my SM anymore. I’m free.”
My lungs constricted. A heave of air left my mouth and I fisted my free hand into my quilt.
It was over.
“Caleb,” I breathed.
“I know,” he replied, voice childish with happiness. “I can’t believe it.”
“Wait,” I paused, my throat seizing. “What now? Who are you...I mean, what..?”
“Who am I paired with now?”
I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I squeezed my eyes shut, chewing my bottom lip.
He made a quiet noise on the other end of the phone. “They haven’t gotten to that yet, Megs, but I’m pretty certain anyone could see that there is no one more suited for me than you.”
Vision blurring, hot tears leaked from the sides of my eyes, streaking over my cheeks. I clenched my teeth shut, trying to keep the shakes inside. Trying to keep me inside.
“Megan?” He sounded worried. “Are you—wait, are you crying?”
One of my sobs caught in my throat as I laughed. “That’s the first time you’ve ever called me Megs.”
It was such a dumb thing to get upset over. But, right then, when everything was crashing down on top of me, that small, unexpected familiarity was surprising to me, calming.
“You’re a special case, for sure,” he laughed, warmth shooting through my veins.
“Shut up,” I whispered feebly, my lips curved into a smile. My face physically hurt from the relief setting into my cheeks.
“I have to go, kiddo,” he sighed. “I’ve got school in the morning. As you’ve so kindly pointed out, I’m not a bad boy, and can’t be late for class.”
Smiling, I rubbed at my damp cheeks and whispered, “Bye, Caleb. I love you.”
“Love you too, Megs. Love you too.”

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