Novel & Cerita This Time Tomorrow: A Novel

I don't even know if this is a safe place for us to stay but I guess it is since that told me that the time machine will lead us to the safest place that the year we'll go into and I trust him more than myself. "We should stay here while we are in this year," he told me and I just looked at him and nodded He's right. This is the safest place for us and we can't take the risk to leave and find someone who can help us. If we can still trust people in 2021, then in this era, we can't. We don't know who should be trusted here who will just use us for something so might as well stay on where the time machine led us and guard it. We can't let anyone get this from us again. But how will I even rest

I'm in my room sitting on the bed reading To Kill A Mockingbird, required reading for English 101 when they walk in. "Hey, Babe. Are you ready to go?" Dane asks while bending down to kiss me. "Go where?" I ask confused. "We are going to help Tammy pack up her apartment. She's getting evicted, remember?" Ant said shuffling through my closet. My everyday wardrobe is jeans and t-shirts, Ant decided my collection of men's graphic t-shirts is community property. "Just let me shop at Foley's first." I roll my eyes, "Who's Tammy?" trying to go over all the conversations from the past few days to remember who this Tammy person is.

"Looking forward to tomorrow." I gripped the phone tightly, as if its weight could anchor me to something real. Roy's words were simple, seemingly innocuous, but they held the promise of a world free of shadows. Tomorrow's dinner suddenly felt less like a plan and more like a fragile rebellion against chaos. But even rebellions have consequences, and I knew that James Clark's shadow wouldn't stay away for long.

London lights filled the sky. Beautiful. Cold. Endless. I placed my hand on the glass. “This time…” I whispered softly. My voice was calm. Steady. “…I will not run.” I closed my eyes. “I will face everything.” Even the past. Even him. Even myself. I opened my eyes again. And for the first time in a long time… I wasn’t afraid of tomorrow.

"Go to sleep. You need to rest." Braxius maneuvers his body to lay sideways between me and the wall, giving me a peck on the cheek. I turn my body away from him so he can spoon me, and we can lie together on the small pallet, and he can keep his cock sheathed deep within me. His breathing slows and the sound escaping from his mouth are deep sighs. I use the rhythm to help lull me back to sleep. Before drifting off, I sadly think... Who knows what tomorrow brings? Unfortunately, I DO know what tomorrow will bring for this city. Death and Destruction.

At the doorway, he glanced back and spoke as casually as if nothing had happened. "My mother is coming tomorrow to discuss the wedding. Clean up the house. "Don't give her another reason to criticize you." Piper had left snack wrappers all over the floor, yet he expected me to clean them up? I watched him in silence. After he left, I took my identification and other important documents and moved out of the house. I never expected Cole to show up at Grandpa's house at noon the next day. He looked displeased, and his tone was openly accusing.

In the quiet, lavender-tinted gloom of an October evening in 2376—marking exactly four hundred and thirty years since Chairman Ethan Blackwood first stepped inside 12 Portobello Road—the world outside was a completely frictionless, post-monetary grid. Yet inside The Petal Pages, time remained fiercely, stubbornly, and proudly arrested. The ancient oak floorboards creaked in their unyielding C-sharp register; the painted heater in the corner held fast to its multi-century lie of being permanently out of order; and the air hung heavy with the rich aroma of damp white gardenias, freshly turned earth, and £0.10 Tesco instant coffee.

– hinted at a connection already forming, despite the novel’s timeline suggesting it started later. Tomorrow.* The word echoed in the silent library. Thomas’s expectations, Alexander’s cold scrutiny, Sophia’s perilous presence, her own precarious amnesia act – it all converged on tomorrow. Playing the villain was suicide. But failing to play it convincingly might trigger Thomas’s intervention or Alexander’s immediate rejection, both potentially disastrous.

Aliyah pressed her lips to his collarbone—soft, lingering—then closed her eyes. Tomorrow her mother would walk through the front door—suitcase wheels rolling, voice bright with stories from Chicago. Tomorrow they would have to pretend. But tonight—tonight was still theirs. And they spent every remaining second of it tangled together—bodies spent but still touching—memorizing the shape of each other in the dark. Because tomorrow the hunger would wait. But tonight it burned.

For the first time, I was truly proud of the sparkling girl staring back at me. Thank you, Lucia. Thank you for fighting for your future. Suddenly, my phone started vibrating nonstop. Several texts from unknown numbers popped up at the same time. "Lucia, it's me, Scott. You said a real relationship needs a grand confession. A breakup deserves a proper goodbye too, right? Today's my birthday. Can you come see me, just once? I'll wait for you here, for as long as it takes." He left the address. It was our high school's sports field.