Tomorrow Is Today by Julie Cross Read Free Book Online Page A

that I-don’t-know-where-I’ll-end up shit,” Adam joked.

    Maybe he was right, but it’s hard not to think about anything but one place. Just one tiny half-second thought about any other location than the one I was aiming for, and I’d end up there instead.

    “Yeah, yeah. You do it, then, if you think it’s so easy.”

    “I wish.”

    I get why someone like Adam is so fascinated by what I can do, but for me, I don’t exactly consider it a superpower. Just a freak-of-nature occurrence. And kind of a scary one, at that.

    I glanced at my watch, 12:25 p.m., then closed my eyes and focused on thirty minutes in the past and on this exact spot, though I really, truly have no clue how I do this.

    The first time I jumped was about eight months ago, during my first semester of college. I was sitting in the middle of a French poetry class. I nodded off for a few minutes and woke up to a cold breeze and a door slamming me in the face. I was standing in front of my dorm. Before I even had a chance to panic, I was right back in class again.

    Then I panicked.

    Now it’s fun, for the most part. Even though I still have no idea what day or time I traveled to that very first jump. As of today, my known record jump has climbed from six hours to forty-eight hours in the past. Jumping to the future has yet to work, but I’m not going to stop trying.

    The familiar sensation of being pulled into two pieces took over. I held my breath and waited for it to stop. It’s never pleasant, but you get used to it.

Chapter Two

    TUESDAY, AUGUST 4, 2009, 11:57 a.m.

    When I opened my eyes again, Adam was gone, along with the rest of the kids and my coworkers. The horrible splitting sensation stopped, replaced by the light-as-air feeling I always get during a time jump. Like I could run for miles and not feel a bit of ache in my legs.

    I hit the start button on the stopwatch and glanced at the giant clock above the zoo entrance.

    11:57 a.m. Pretty close . I strolled over toward the shop and walked inside. The girl at the register looked about my age, maybe a little older. She leaned on the counter, holding her face in her hands, staring at the wall.

    Whenever I do these little experiments, I have to constantly remind myself of one very important fact: Hollywood gets everything wrong when it comes to time travel.

    Seriously.

    Okay, here’s the weird part. The chick at the counter could punch me in the nose, maybe even break it, and when I jumped back to the present time, it would be sore or bruised, but not broken. Why it’s not broken is a whole different (unanswered) question, but the point is…I’ll remember being punched.

    If I broke her nose, then went back to the present, she’d be totally unhurt and wouldn’t remember a thing. Of course, I was supposed to be testing that theory right now (again). Well…except I’m not going to punch her. Either way—same outcome.

    “Hey,” I said to her. “Do you guys sell…sunscreen?”

    She didn’t even make eye contact, just pointed to a wall to the left. I walked over and snatched four different bottles and then dumped them on the counter. “So…are you at NYU or—“

    “You know, you can buy these somewhere else for, like, half the price,” she snapped.

    “Thanks for the tip, but I need some now.” I leaned on the counter right in front of her.

    She straightened up and started ringing up my purchase. “Four bottles? Seriously?”

    Okay…so much for flirting. “Fine, I’ll just get one. I guess you’re not working on commission.”

    “You work at a day camp?” she asked disdainfully, eyeing my green staff shirt.

    “Yep.”

    The girl snorted back laughter and snatched the credit card from my hand. “You really don’t remember me?”

    I had to pause for a second to process her words. “Um…”

    “Karen…I sat behind you in economics all semester. Professor Larson called you unbalanced and said you needed to get a better grasp on realistic finances