Impossibility of Tomorrow by Avery Williams

Author:Avery Williams [Williams, Avery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780857076847
Google: kP2lwsURDVgC
Amazon: 1442443200
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2013-06-03T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FOUR

“No way. You’re allergic to cats, Kailey.” Mrs. Morgan’s hands are on her hips as she eyes the little ball of gray fur that I’m cuddling in my arms.

Oh. Kailey’s body may have been allergic when she was alive, but the alchemical process of transferring my soul would have healed any such maladies. “Not this one, apparently,” I say with a smile. “Which means I’m meant to keep her.”

She doesn’t say anything but tentatively reaches out her hand to scratch the cat’s ears, earning a loud, rumbling purr.

“Please?” I whisper.

“Where did you find her, again?” Mrs. Morgan asks, continuing to stroke the cat’s chin.

“On the street, by my friend’s house. Feel how skinny she is, Mom. She would have died if I hadn’t found her.” I feel tears burning my eyes. I’m not sure why, but I need this cat. I don’t know if it’s because she belonged to Taryn, the girl whose life I’ve tried to save twice, who might already be dead. Or is it because no other animal has ever shown me affection?

“Aw,” Mrs. Morgan murmurs, as the cat arches her back and closes her eyes. “Poor little baby. She’s definitely a stray.”

“Please?” I repeat. “Can we keep her?”

She looks at me for a long moment, but I know I’ve already won this battle. I don’t see how anyone could fail to love this cat. “Okay,” she says. “But you have to take care of her. Feeding, litter box, everything. And if you start getting asthma attacks, we’re taking her to the shelter, straightaway. Deal?”

I nod vigorously. “Deal.” I hug the cat to my chest, cradling her thin body, then set her down on the checkered linoleum floor. “Go ahead, little kitty,” I say. “Explore your new house.” The cat begins to sniff everything in sight, rubbing her head against the table legs, the cupboards.

“You’re going to have to give her a name, you know,” says Mrs. Morgan. “ ‘Kitty’ is a bit common, don’t you think?”

“Right,” I answer, kneeling down next to the cat to stroke her head. “What’s your name, huh? What should we call you?”

She stares at me, her huge green eyes reminding me, not for the first time, of twin full moons. Suddenly I know exactly what to call her. “Luna,” I say solemnly. “Her name is Luna.”

“Perfect,” says Mrs. Morgan. “And very Berkeley.” This comment makes me unaccountably happy. Luna, my little Berkeley cat, meows, as though to say she’s pleased with her new name.

“I think the drugstore might still be open.” Mrs. Morgan pulls on her coat, her purse already dangling from her arm. “We should go get Luna something to eat.”

Luna meows in agreement, casting me an accusatory glance. I can’t help but chuckle softly at her outraged feline expression.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy since—well, since last week,” Mrs. Morgan says carefully as she fishes her car keys from her purse.

“You can say it,” I tell her. “Since Noah and I broke up.”

Her cheeks relax. “I didn’t want to say anything,” she admits.

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