102 Minutes Novels & Stories

NOAH ⋆⭒˚.⋆ ⋆⭒˚.⋆ It took me two hours and forty minutes. Two hours and forty fucking minutes of white-knuckling the wheel and eating the road while the location blinked on my phone like a trail of blood Gage could follow if he actually gave a shit. By the time I got there, my jaw ached and my hands were cramped and the clock in my head was screaming louder than the engine.

"Okay, no more than 30 minutes, ok?" "Ok!" ***

I asked in anticipation as I saw Tristan. "So what?" Tristan asked, infuriating me. I was already impatient after I was shoved into the store room and he was prolonging the torture. "What's his time?" "Well, his timing is...," he paused for dramatic effect, "nineteen minutes and ten seconds, plus ten minutes minus twenty six minutes and fifty seconds plus five seconds multiplied by two and then divided by three, plus one hour minus fifty two minutes and thirty eight seconds-" "Tristan! Shut up and tell me his exact timing!" I knew I was close to punching Tristan by now if he kept this up.

Twenty minutes. Enough time.

We both stand there in the middle of the living room listening to it fade down the street and then there’s silence and I press both hands over my face and try to remember how to breathe normally. “That wasn’t him,” Edmund says. “I know.” “We have time.” “I know.” I drop my hands and look at the couch and start fixing the cushions because I need something to do with my body right now or I’m going to lose my mind. “How much time do you think we actually have?” He checks his phone. The cracked screen lights up. “He said six. It’s just past four.” Two hours.

Didn’t say goodbye. He ran. Past me. Past Bear. Out the door. _Thump. Thump. Thump._ Hallway. Elevator. I followed. Bear followed. *3:11 PM. [SFX: CAR. THEN CURB. THEN BACKPACK.]* PCH. 90 MPH. Adrian driving. 128 BPM. Hands shaking. On wheel. “9 minutes,” Adrian said. To no one. To himself. To me. “9 minutes late.” “Adrian—” I started.

Like something that had been carried a long way and was deciding whether to put itself down. "You have nine minutes," I said. He blinked. "What?" "You asked for nine minutes before the unresolved things." I looked at my watch. "Race ended eleven minutes ago. You've used two. You have seven left. I'm being generous and rounding up." Something moved across his face. The thing underneath a smile that was realer than the smile. "You timed it." "I'm a racer. I time everything." "Audrey." "Six minutes fifty," I said. "Ticking."

] “Kevin, how far do we have to take this?” “The acceptable time limit is no less than 7 minutes, and you have to finish.” Kevin whispered to Benji. “Also, I have to record it, so try to keep the talking to a minimum, if you know what I mean.” “Got it,” both Benji and I replied. [Everyone, 7 minutes and you have to finish.] [Good to know.] [Got it.] [Ok, I was wondering…whew, glad I didn’t go first.] [Yea, me too Andrew. We’d be here all night.]

and gestured her to follow me into the room which she nodded to so I left and shortly after she followed behind me so I closed the door. "As you said, I won't go back on my word but there are a few rules." "okay" she listened on "Number 1. This has to stay between us only. None of my friends can know about it so that means you cannot utter a word about it to Casey. Understood?" I asked her clearly. She nodded "totally understood. I won't say a word. I promise" she guaranteed. "Good. Number 2, this is strictly for 48 hours only and not even an hour extra you got it? So after we are done, we go our separate ways and I would very much like it if we never stumble across each other again"

I stood behind her and looked at the screen. Timestamps. Dates. Durations. Each entry a thin line of data, a date and a time and a number of seconds. I followed the list down the way you follow a road when you already know where it ends. I found it in the middle of the list. A date I knew. A time I knew. A duration of two hours and fourteen minutes.