In the ten years since his parents died
in
a fire he predicted but
couldn't prevent, seventeen year old Matt has been trying to stay out
of
trouble, biding his time until he ages out of foster care. All he wants
is for the world to leave him alone so he won't be tortured by seeing
someone's future he's powerless to change anyway. But his plans for
keeping himself aloof fail when he interrupts a vicious attack on
Amara, a girl from his school. Despite his best attempts to push her
away, he can't ignore the connection they've formed. That's when
glimpses of her dangerous future start to invade the present
a future he fears he is responsible for. Now Matt has something to lose
again . . . and something to fight for.
FUTURE TENSE
LJ Cohen
Chapter 1
Another day without
getting punched,
stabbed, or shot. I guess I could call it a win. Grabbing my
backpack, I waded into the mob leaving P.S. 20, a high school so
beaten down nobody bothered to give it a name. Like the other schools
in the city, and I had been in nearly all of them, it was nothing but
cinder blocks, gangs, and drugs, with a few classrooms sprinkled in.
If nothing screwed up my placement this time, I’d probably graduate
from here.
"Matt!" Chico shouted from behind me. He was
a tenth
grader Mr. and Mrs. Powell took in six weeks ago--an "emergency"
foster placement. I ignored him.
"Yo, Garrison, wait up!"
I kept walking, past the school and the
empty lot they called a
playground. A few budding trees and some new weeds seemed the only
signs of spring if you didn’t count a fresh crop of beer cans,
broken bottles, and syringes.
"Come on, man."
We're never told why a kid's in foster care,
but it's not so hard
to figure out. The lucky ones had parents who only tried to ignore
them to death. Some kids curled around a big ball of hurt and got
real quiet. Others stole your stuff and split in the middle of the
night. Kids like Chico and me? We were lifers. According to what I
overheard, his dad disappeared before he was born and his mom bounced
around between jail and drug treatment, but she refused to give up
her 'parental' rights. I'd run into tons of kids like him.
Long term fosters like me are pretty rare.
Not the two dead
parents and no relatives to step up part. I heard plenty of stories
like that. No, what makes me different in social services’ eyes is
the being white part. Usually little orphaned white kids get
adopted—except me. Go figure.
"We’re going to the same place, man," Chico
whined.
Most afternoons, Chico disappeared after
school and showed up
reeking of body spray just before dinner. Coming home early probably
meant he'd run out of money for pot. Well, he'd have to hustle to
catch up.
"Hey, slow down. Where's the fire?" Chico
asked.
"Where's the fire?" I echoed harshly, and
whipped around
so fast, he just about slammed into me. The fire was in my head. It
was always in my head. My throat felt tight and raw. I couldn't
swallow. The memory of ashes coated my tongue. Chico stared at me,
his eyes so wide the whites showed all around the brown.
"Get the hell away from me." I struggled to
calm myself
down. It was just a stupid expression. He couldn't know. I never
talked about it--not with anyone, especially not Chico.
He stepped back and put his open hands in
front of him. "We
chill, hombre, right?"
It had been a while since some stupid remark
made me relive the
fire all over again.
"You talk too damn much," I said, slowing my
breathing
and shoving away images of smoke and death.
. . .
(continue
reading the first chapter of FUTURE TENSE in the attached PDF, or
download
it as an ebook file in mobi or epub formats directly from my
website.)
