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284 pages, Paperback
First published April 8, 2014
She was the kind of girl he would dream up because she was approximately his age, her skin was bare except for the dark wet streamers of hair around her body, and she was supernaturally beautiful, like a mermaid or an elvish princess.Ethan goggles at her for a bit, this girl is clearly out of it. He gives her his jacket (hello, she's naked), and then, you know, just lets the girl-who-appeared-out-of-thin-air wander off to god-knows-where.
He wanted to go with her, but he didn’t. He watched her stumble off through the trees in his blue Giants sweatshirt, looking overwhelmed by the tangled branches and the knotty roots and the mud and the bushes grabbing at her.Because what else could he do...like...I don't know...call the police? All's good, until she reappears in his precalculus classrom in his sophomore year of high school.
12. WE MUST NEVER, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, DEVELOP A PHYSICALLY OR EMOTIONALLY INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP WITH ANY PERSON OUTSIDE THE COMMUNITY.Does it work? HA!
How can I trust him? Who trusts the homeless, can-collecting man who sings opera to himself? Who does that?Hmmmmmmmmm...Right.
Something about the way he said my name. What if---?
“This is perfect,” Ethan says as we watch hordes of people in bathing suits stream by, dragging coolers and umbrellas and small children. “What better place for a couple of folks running for their lives and concerned with the fate of humanity?”2. Do some under-aged drinking
We eat dinner on the patio of a Mexican restaurant spangled with twinkling white lights. Ethan brandishes his fake ID and comes back with a pitcher of sangria.3. Play card games
“And during our downtime, I’m going to teach you Hearts.”Prenna and James: saving the world, one card game at a time!!!!
“We’ve got to have our priorities,” I say.
“We do. Because once you’ve got Hearts down, you’re set.”
My mom said it was really incredibly fortunate that somebody with asthma got to make the trip at all. She said something about my “enhanced IQ” making up for it.This book completely failed to convince me that Prenna's IQ is any higher than her shoe size. Prenna is so mind-numbingly dumb.
The leaders and counselors track our movements, everything we see and say and hear. Nobody says so, naturally, but we all know it’s true. I think they do it through our glasses. I think there’s got to be a tiny camera and mic planted in them somewhere.Smart, right? Well, yeah, if she bothered to actually fucking use that fact. She is nearly blind without them. She wears them constantly. Prenna constantly makes fucking idiot plans and talk to people she shouldn't be talking to WHILE WEARING THEM, WHILE KNOWING THAT SHE IS BEING MONITORED.
“There are so many things I have to tell you,” I rush on. I should be more careful—I know that on some level—but I can’t make myself be.”It's not just one instance. Every few pages, she does it. She could have just hidden the fucking glasses, but no, she talks over them, she talks in exaggerated tones thinking people are too stupid to realize that she's lying. She does it over, and over, and over. She takes no caution at all.
“Prenna, stop.” She is terrified. “Please be quiet.”Prenna is such an unconvincing character. She is a 16-year old from a difficult, hard-knock future without an iota of sense, without a single ounce of character. She makes grandiose speeches without anything to back them up. Prenna is an empty character.
Suddenly I understand the tone of her voice. I hear more than see the presence of two men in the dining room. Ethan was right. I am stupid.
I once saw a man in a plaid vest across the street, and I followed him around for an hour thinking he could be my dad. That was red-flag behavior too.Yeah, endanger everyone you know for the sake of a pair of fucking boots.
“According to him, you followed a stranger for four blocks yesterday and asked her about her rain boots.”The Setting: Utterly unconvincing.
“Oh, right.” I should be contrite, but remembering it, I’m kind of excited. “She had my old boots! You know, the bright blue rubber ones hand-painted with ladybugs and parrots and geckos? Do you remember them? I loved those!”
I’m trying to write and talk the way they talk here, but it’s not easy. All th-th-th-th-ths. People thalking through their theeth. Mom—I am supposed to call her Mom here, pronounced MAH-AHM—she gives me these worried looks when I mess up, but she can’t really say the “th” sound. She makes this wobbly rubber band shape with her lips.I bet if I were to go back in time 90 years from now, I'd understand what the people of the 1920s said. I really don't get this. It's the same fucking United States.
Most people with dengue recover without any ongoing problems. The mortality is 1–5% without treatment and less than 1% with adequate treatment.1. Fucking. Percent. So why are we fucking freaking out and traveling to the past?
“Well, there was a lot of R and D money and scientific genius spent on pills and simple surgeries to let people eat as much as they wanted without getting fat. And there were big advances in plastic surgery technology, so people could shape their bodies exactly how they wanted and look super young, even when they were, like, seventy.And AIDS?, we got rid of that shit.
"AIDS was done with by that point."Oooook. So plastic surgery? Got it. No obesity. Got it. AIDS? BOOM. But dengue fever outbreak? WAAAAAAAAAH.
The ice caps melting, the ice sheets collapsing, the water levels rising. The whole thing changes over about fifteen years. There are droughts and floods and storms that rip the topsoil right off the earth. Once people recover from one thing, there is another. The price of basic stuff like wheat and rice skyrockets, and governments come down because they can’t feed people.”And we don't even have clothes anymore, we recycle clothes. That's pretty much the dumbest thing I've ever heard, considering the advances in technology, we're down to re-using clothes because we can't make new clothes anymore?
There are so many clothes now. But by the 2070s there was almost nothing new being made, and by the 2080s we were all wearing recycled stuff, a lot of it recycled from now. By the early 2090s, by the time we left to come here, most of it was in tatters.Romance: thy name is deus ex fucking machina: Ethan. Gorgeous Ethan. Ethan who can, will, and does everything he can to save Prenna's ass.
People versus mosquito. Who should win? We built rockets and cathedrals. We wrote poems and symphonies. We found a passage through time. And yet. We also wreck the planet for our own habitation and the mosquito will win. Unless we succeed in changing course, it will win.
She was the kind of girl he would dream up because she was approximately his age, her skin was bare except for the dark wet streamers of hair around her body, and she was supernaturally beautiful, like a mermaid or an elvish princess.
“An unforgettable epic romantic thriller about a girl from the future who might be able to save the world . . . if she lets go of the one thing she’s found to hold on to.”
“A super dullsville romp about a time traveler who not only hopes to save mankind, but also wants to lose her V-Card.”
“You know what surprises me most?” I say as we each sit down on a swing.
“What?”
“That everybody knows.”
Ethan kicks at the dirt under his swing. “What do you mean?”
“Everybody here knows what’s going to happen. Before we moved, I imagined that people in the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries must have been ignorant of what they were doing to the world, because how else could they have kept on doing it? But they do know. They don’t know exactly how it will unfold, but they know a lot.”
“We do know, don’t we?”
“People from the twenty eighties look back on this period now and the one just ahead as the golden age of science. As the golden age of a lot of things, actually. You can’t imagine the nostalgia for this exact time. The science was good enough to predict a century ahead what was going to happen. And it’s not just a handful of scientists who know, it’s everybody. I read about it, hear about it, see it on the news practically every day. There couldn’t be any more warning.”