Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

whenever she thought about her so-called gift, but it never provided any answers. Only more questions.

The photo was only eight years old, but her mother looked a lot younger in it. Maybe it was because she was smiling, not just with her lips but with her eyes-an expression Emily didn't see on her face very often. She had one hand on the shoulder of five-year-old Emily. And on Emily's other side was her father.

From the angle of the photo, it seemed that no matter where Emily stood when she looked at it, his eyes were on her. And sometimes she felt that he was looking at her with disappointment, like he was reminding her that she could have saved his life.

There were times when she wished she couldn't recall the memory so easily. Was it her very first vision? She couldn't be sure, but it was the first one that had a real effect on her life. And it had happened at such an ordinary moment.

It was as detailed a memory as if it had occurred the day before. Her mother was brushing Emily's hair, getting her ready for a day at kindergarten. Her father was putting some papers in his briefcase.

The image had come to her out of nowhere, just like the vision she'd had of her class that morning. She could see her father walking out the front door, heading to the car he'd parked across the street. She could see him stepping off the curb without looking both ways. Another car, moving very fast, came screaming around the corner. And hit him.

She wanted to tell him about this frightening vision, but he was already heading to the door. She knew all she had to say was something like, 'Wait, Daddy, I have something to tell you,' but she didn't. Even today, she still didn't know why she hadn't spoken up. Was she afraid he'd laugh at her?

The 'why' didn't really matter now. Her father was killed by a speeding car and it happened just the way she'd seen it in her vision. And maybe, just maybe, if she had told him about her vision, he would have been more careful crossing the street. If he had stopped to listen to her, maybe the speeding car would have gone down her street before he even went outside. At least her mother couldn't blame her for her father's death, since she didn't really believe Emily could see into the future. But Emily could blame herself.

Now, whenever she had serious visions that could affect someone's life, she told that person. But they didn't always appreciate it, and usually they didn't believe her. Which was understandable … because sometimes the visions were wrong. Well, maybe not completely wrong, but not exactly … clear. Like the time she told Terri Boyd in her English class that she was going to fall off the balance beam in her gymnastics competition that day. Only Terri didn't fall-not then. But at her competition the following weekend, she tumbled off. And Terri actually blamed Emily for it, telling her she put the idea in her head!

'Ready?' her mother asked.

Emily picked up her backpack and followed her mother outside. But just as her mother was locking the door, she had another vision. It was funny how this could happen. She could go for days without a vision and then have a dozen in one morning.

'Mom, I forgot something. I'll be right back.' Ignoring her mother's protests, she ran back inside and down the hall to her room. She found what she needed in her bookcase, stuck it in her backpack, and hurried back to join her mother.

'What did you forget?' her mother wanted to know.

'A book I have to lend Jenna,' Emily replied. Which was the truth-she just didn't tell her how she knew Jenna would need the book.

The five-minute drive to Meadowbrook Middle School was free of visions, but the image of the gifted class without Carter was still in her head. When she arrived at school, she considered looking for Madame to tell her about it, but Madame was always warning her not to speak up too quickly. She'd told Emily to think about her visions, to examine them and consider them before jumping to conclusions. Emily wasn't so sure about that-she saw what she saw, and that wouldn't change just because she thought about it. But Madame seemed to think otherwise, so she decided to wait until the gifted class met. Maybe she would have a clearer vision by then.

She was still vision-free at lunchtime, when she set her tray down on the cafeteria table next to Tracey and across from Jenna. Jenna was in the process of trying to get Tracey to use her special gift on Jenna's behalf.

'Ms. Stanford always does her photocopying during fourth period, and you've got study period then, so you won't miss a class. Just get yourself into the teachers' lounge and look at the test while she's copying it. You don't have to memorize the whole thing-I just need to know what the essay question is going to be.'

Clearly this discussion had been going on for some time. Wearily, Tracey shook her head. 'That's cheating, Jenna. I can't help you.'

'Of course you can,' Jenna insisted, narrowing her kohl-rimmed eyes. 'You just won't.'

'Actually, it's both,' Tracey said. 'I can't always go invisible on demand.'

'You're getting a lot better at it though,' Emily pointed out.

'Yeah, but it's not easy. Remember why I started disappearing? It was because no one paid any attention to me. If I tried talking to people, they didn't hear me. I'd raise my hand in class and the teacher wouldn't see me. Even my own parents ignored me. I felt invisible, so I became invisible.'

Jenna gazed at her quizzically. 'But you don't feel invisible anymore, do you? How come you can still disappear?'

'I have to try and remember how it was back then, when I felt like nobody. That can be pretty depressing, so I don't like doing it. But if I'm feeling too confident or strong or really good about myself, it's really hard.'

For Emily, it was comforting to hear that others couldn't always rely on their gifts. Tracey couldn't disappear just by snapping her fingers. And Jenna, who could read minds, couldn't read everyone's mind. With some people, she had no problem-their minds were an open book. But she couldn't read her own mother's mind, nor Madame's, nor Carter's.

And with the other gifted students, she complained about how sometimes she could read them and sometimes she couldn't. Of course, her classmates would recommend that she shouldn't even try, but Jenna, being Jenna, didn't take advice well.

'I'm sorry, Jenna, 'Tracey continued. 'I know you think I'm being a prig, but cheating is wrong. Why can't you just study for the test like everyone else?'

Jenna made a face. 'What's the point of learning everything when you only really need to learn what you're going to be tested on?' Then she brightened. 'Hey, I just had a brilliant idea. I could ask Ms. Stanford some questions about the test. Then she'll start thinking about it, and I'll read her mind!'

Emily thought that was a pretty good idea, but Tracey disapproved. 'It's not right, Jenna. It's still cheating.'

Jenna shrugged. 'It's the teachers 'fault. I wouldn't have to cheat if they didn't give us so much work. I've got an essay due on Thursday, the test tomorrow, a book report to give today-' she stopped suddenly, and snatched up her backpack. Frantically, she began to search the contents.

'What's the book?' Tracey asked.

'The Diary of Anne Frank. And I left it at home.' She dropped the backpack and looked at the others mournfully. 'Can you believe it? I actually read the whole book, I wrote the report, and I marked passages to read out loud. And now I don't have the book.'

Emily reached into her backpack. 'Surprise,' she said, handing over her own copy of the book.

Jenna grabbed it out of her hands. 'Wow! Thanks, Em.'

'How did you know she'd need it? 'Tracey asked Emily.

'Jenna told me she was reading it last weekend. Remember, Jenna? You said it made you cry.'

'It made me sad' Jenna contradicted her. 'I didn't cry.'

Tracey shook her head impatiently. 'No, how did you know she would forget to bring her copy to school?'

'I had a vision,' Emily said proudly.

'Cool!' Tracey exclaimed. 'You had an accurate premonition.'

Jenna disagreed. 'But you can't say for sure that you were predicting the future.' 'Why not?' Emily asked.