The Future of Us Read Online Free PDF

thirties, do they?”
    I shake my head. “I think you’re out by the lake. There was a picture of you in your yard, and you could see a dock in the background with a motorboat hitched to it.”
    “Very cool,” Josh says. “So they made me rich.”
    I roll my eyes. “Why do you keep saying ‘they’? Who are you talking about?”
    “The people who created this joke of a website. I’m going to go to the tech lab today and see if anyone’s been scanning pictures of—”
    “When you say ‘the people who created this,’ don’t you get it? At some point in the future, we created it. I don’t know exactly what it is, but it looks like interconnected websites where people show their photos and write about everything going on in their lives, like whether they found a parking spot or what they ate for breakfast.”
    “But why?” Josh asks.
    The first bell rings for homeroom. Graham’s going to wonder where I was this morning. We usually meet at his locker and walk to band together.
    I grab my bag and then reach for the door.
    “Hang on,” Josh says as he spins a wheel on his skateboard. “That Facebook thing, did it say whether or not I’m married?”
    I flip through my keys so I can unlock the trunk. “Yeah, you’re married.”
    “What does it say about . . . her?” Josh asks, his face pale. “My . . . you know . . . wife ?”
    “I thought you didn’t believe in this,” I say.
    “But I still want to know. It’s my future, right?”
    “Here’s the thing,” I say, taking in a breath. “In the future, you’re married to Sydney Mills.”
    Josh’s mouth hangs open.
    I open my car door. “We’re going to be late.”

8://Josh
    I IMAGINE Sydney Mills standing in front of me. Her long brown hair is held back by a white headband, and her eyes are the color of sweet caramel. She opens her arms and I pull her into a kiss, the fullness of her breasts pressing into my chest.
    Then I open my eyes, grab my skateboard, and meet Emma at the trunk.
    “Sydney Mills?” I say. “That’s ridiculous!”
    Emma stuffs her silver running shoes into her backpack. “But now you want this to be true, right?”
    “Why would I want to believe something that’s a hoax?” I say. Even so, I’m tempted to make Emma drive us home so I can see for myself. But if we’re late to school, the secretary will leave a message on our home answering machines.
    Sydney Mills is a year ahead of me. She’s insanely hot, she’s one of the best athletes in school, and she comes from a wealthy family. I have no idea why anyone would match us up even as a joke. We’ve been in Peer Issues together since January and we’ve never said a word to each other.
    “Look at you,” Emma teases, bumping her arm against mine. “You’re in love .”
    Emma reaches up to ruffle my hair, but I pull away. I sling my backpack over one shoulder and start walking toward school.
    “Wait up, Mr. Mills,” Emma calls.
    I stop and turn around.
    Emma shifts her saxophone case to her other hand. “It’s okay. I’d be walking like a maniac, too, if I discovered Cody and I were married and vacationing in Waikiki.”
    Waikiki?
    “I wasn’t walking fast because I’m excited,” I say. “I just hate it when you . . . you know . . . touch my hair and stuff.”
    “I’m sorry,” Emma says, and I know she gets it. She doesn’t want to hurt our friendship either. That’s why she let me put distance between us for the past six months.
    Emma points at a white convertible with its top up. “There’s Sydney’s car. Maybe you should leave a love sonnet beneath her windshield wiper. Or a haiku! It’s probably best if you don’t try to rhyme.”
    For the junior high talent show, I bombed with my rap act. I thought I could be the first redheaded rapper. I called myself RedSauce. A few times a year, Emma brings it up to torture me. But that’s better than my brother, who mentions it almost every time we talk.
    “So, Sydney and I go to Waikiki?” I