Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

expressions, and according to Jenna, he had no thoughts-yet somehow he functioned, physically at least, like a regular person.

No one knew who he really was or where he came from-he'd been found a year earlier on Carter Street, and that was the name he'd been given. So far, he hadn't exhibited any particular gift, and Emily didn't know why he was in their gifted class. Maybe it was because he was just different, like the rest of them.

She could tell that Madame was concerned, and her initial joy at being correct in her premonition evaporated. Carter's absence wasn't a good thing, and Emily was ashamed for taking pleasure from it.

It was warm in the classroom, and Madame started to take off her suit jacket.

'Oh, I almost forgot.' She put a hand in her pocket. 'Does this belong to anyone?'

'My ring!' Sarah cried out. She went to the desk to take it. 'Oh, thank you, Madame. Where did you find it?'

'On the floor,' the teacher replied. 'It must have slipped off your finger and rolled away. You might want to have it made smaller so it won't be loose, Sarah.'

'I will,' Sarah said, and returned to her desk. She didn't look at Emily as she passed her, but Emily sank down in her seat anyway. So the ring had been found-she'd been right about that. But not in Sarah's pocket.

But wait … what had she envisioned, exactly? Had she actually seen Sarah put her hand in her pocket? All she'd seen in the vision was the ring in a pocket. And that was where it had been. It just wasn't in the pocket she'd assumed it would be in. So in a way, she'd been right. She just hadn't understood her own premonition.

But that didn't make her feel much better. She had visions-so what? She didn't know what they meant. What was the good of having a gift if you couldn't even understand it?

She didn't have any more visions at school that day, and her mood didn't improve. This wasn't helped by the fact that she went home with an unusually large amount of homework.

At least the homework required all her attention, and she didn't think about her mother and her hair appointment. But when she heard the door open and her mother's call of 'I'm home,' the memory of her premonition came back. She hurried out to the living room.

Her mother was just taking off her coat. 'Hi, honey. How was your day?'

When Emily didn't respond right away, her mother repeated her question. 'Em? Did you have a nice day?'

'Oh, yeah, it was okay. Sorry, I was looking at your hair.'

Her mother patted the nicely trimmed soft curls. 'Do you like it?'

Emily nodded. 'Tony did a nice job.'

'Actually, Tony was called away on a family emergency, so I had Lauren this time. What shall we do about dinner?' She breezed past Emily and went into the kitchen.

Emily couldn't think about dinner-she was too busy pondering the implications of another messed-up premonition. Was it just because Tony hadn't been there and another hairdresser had done the job?

Would her mother's next appointment with Tony be a disaster? Or was it just a false prediction?

It was all too depressing. This talent she had-it could be so precious, so valuable. So many people would love to have her gift, and they could do wonderful things with it.

But in her own clumsy hands-no, in her own clumsy brain-it was worthless.

Chapter Two

EMILY COULD FEEL HER mother's worried eyes on her as they sat across from each other at the table.

'Emily? Are you feeling all right? You're not eating.'

She was right. And on the plate in front of her was one of her absolute favorites-macaroni and cheese.

'I'm not very hungry,' she replied, but she stuck her fork into the cheesy pasta anyway.

Her mother still looked concerned. She really cared, Emily knew that, and for a mother, she was usually pretty understanding. About most things, at least.

'Mom,' Emily began, and then she lost her nerve. Her mother sighed.

'You are having those visions again, aren't you.' It was a statement, not a question, but Emily answered anyway. She wanted so desperately to talk about it. 'Sort of.'

'Do you talk about this in your … your class? Isn't your teacher supposed to help you.. deal with your problem?'

That was how her mother saw her gift-as a problem. When Emily was asked to join the class, Madame had told her mother that its purpose was to help the students channel and control their talents. But somehow her mother had convinced herself that the purpose of it was to help the students get rid of their delusions.

'We talk about our gifts' Emily said, emphasizing the last word. 'We talk about how to develop them and make the most of them.'

As usual, her mother didn't hear her. 'Em, honey … if you're not getting any help from that Madame person, maybe you should go back to see Dr. Mackle.'

Emily shuddered. Her mother had dragged her to the psychologist two years ago. He'd treated her like a six- year-old with an imaginary friend and said her visions were simply the product of an overactive, creative imagination. No, Dr. Mackle couldn't help her.

She gave up. 'I'm fine, Mom. I've just got a lot of homework and I'm a little stressed out.'

That was something her mother could understand. 'Well, you go ahead and get to work,' she said briskly. 'I'll take care of the dishes.'

'I'll clear the table,' Emily offered. While she was collecting the dishes, the phone rang. Her mother got to it first.

'Hello? Hi, Tracey. Yes, she's here, but she's got a lot of homework so don't talk too long. Oh really? Okay, here she is.' She handed the cordless phone to Emily. 'Tracey's having some problems with the homework and she wants to talk to you about it.'

This couldn't be true-Madame hadn't given them any homework, and she and Tracey didn't have any other classes together. Emily took the phone and played along.

'Hi, I'm taking the phone to my room so I can look at the assignment.' That was for her mother's benefit. Once in her own room, she closed the door and fell down on her bed with the phone. 'Hi, what's up?'

'Not much. Wait a sec, I gotta yell at the clones. Hey, you guys, out of my room! Now!'

Emily could picture Tracey's identical little sisters, the infamous Devon Seven, surrounding her and begging for stories. As an only child, Emily used to envy Tracey. But after spending some time in Tracey's house, she now understood one of the reasons why Tracey was so intent on learning to disappear at will-so she could really and truly hide from them sometimes.

'Hi, I'm back. I just called to find out how you're doing. You seemed really down today.'

Emily wasn't surprised that Tracey had been so aware of her feelings. Tracey was practically an authority on being depressed, having spent around five years in that condition.

'I'm confused,' Emily confessed. 'My visions are so-so messy. Sometimes I wonder if I really have a gift at all.'

'Of course you do,' Tracey assured her. 'Think of all the times you've told me what's going to happen! Remember when you asked me if I'd ever had measles?'

Emily recalled the strange premonition she'd had a few months earlier. She kept envisioning Tracey and thinking 'measles.' 'Yeah, I remember.'

'Well, why did you ask me that? Because you knew the clones were going to come down with measles and you were worried that I might catch it.'

'But why didn't I just see your sisters with measles in my vision? It's like, every time I get a premonition, it's not clear-it's all twisted and mixed-up.'

'Maybe because the future is never all that clear. I mean, it can always change, can't it?'

'I guess,' Emily replied, but she wasn't so sure about that. If the future could change, then how could she see it before it happened? Like today. . 'I had a vision this morning that Carter wouldn't be in class today.'