The Program (The Program #1)

CHAPTER SIX

“SO I KNOW YOU AND JAMES AREN’T AT ALL INTO each other,” Lacey says, biting into her cupcake as she sits across from me in the cafeteria. “But he’s been watching you this entire time. I might start feeling bad for him if you don’t at least acknowledge him.”

I don’t, keeping my back to his end of the cafeteria as I eat my lunch. James makes me self-conscious. His shifts between flirting and avoiding me are stirring up emotions I don’t understand. And I don’t want to get sick again.

“Okay,” Lacey says when I don’t answer. “I’m just saying the more you ignore him, the more I’m convinced you’re in love with the guy. And he looks positively pathetic today.”

“He does not. And I don’t even know him, so how can I love him?”

Lacey smiles as if I just told her that I want to marry him and have his blond-headed babies. “Well, whatever you’re doing,” she says, “you’re messing him up hardcore.”

I worry suddenly that she’s right. What if by talking to him I started some chain reaction of events? What if we get infected again because of me?

I put my chin on my shoulder and look back at James. When I do, he straightens. He holds my stare in a way that pins me in place until I hear Lacey calling my name, making me turn around.

“Oh, Lord,” she mumbles. “This is not going to end well.”

“Let’s just drop it.”

“Fine.” She holds up her hands as if I’m a lost cause. “I do have something for you though.”

This peaks my interest. “Yeah?”

“It’s a little trick I learned a few weeks into my return.” With a cautious glance at Kevin, she reaches down to take something from her backpack. She taps my knee as she passes it to me under the table.

“What is it?” I ask, bringing it onto my lap to look it over. It’s a small pad of paper with the name of the school psychologist at the top. The entire pad has been filled out with his signature, requiring only the date and time. I look across the table at Lacey, my eyes wide.

“If you need some time off,” she whispers. “Just fill it in and give it to your teacher. They never check. They expect us to be in therapy—they definitely don’t expect us to skip. We’re the good ones, remember? Sorry that I’ve used up half the passes already.” When I look at her questioningly, she shrugs. “What? How did you think I found the time to sample so many flavors?”

I laugh, thinking about Lacey sneaking around school, making out with guys behind the building or in the custodian’s closet. And then, completely not meaning to, I take another look back at James. And he smiles.

“Not interested at all,” Lacey says offhandedly. “So sure.”

? ? ?

I don’t waste any time using the pass. It’s like having the key to an intricate lock right there in your pocket. Before my final class, I fill one out and then pause at the entryway, trying not to give myself away. After a deep breath, I turn to Kevin.

“I actually have a session with Mr. Andrews,” I say, motioning back toward the office. “It’ll probably last through the end of the day.”

Kevin glances at his watch and then nods. “I’ll walk you there.”

I smile as my heart explodes with panic in my chest. “Oh. Sure. Okay.” Kevin waits as I show my teacher the fake pass, letting him mark me as present in the roster. Then he dismisses me.

I don’t talk as Kevin and I head down the empty hall toward the office. I don’t know what I was thinking. My handler is going to see that I don’t have a session, and then he’s going to check the pass. I’m going to get so busted. I don’t think he’ll be able to ignore this, no matter what sort of favor he’s doing for Realm.

And where will I tell him I got it from? I won’t turn Lacey in. They can put me back in The Program if they have to.

The Program. An acute sense of dread slips over me, and I consider confessing to Kevin that I don’t have a session; asking him not to turn me in. But that would just be stupid. I have to ride this out, and if that fails, deny, deny, deny.

“You’ve done well,” Kevin tells me as we walk. “I’m honestly impressed with the progress you’ve made so far. Not all returners are so cooperative.”

“Thanks,” I say, the pass burning a hole in my hand, proving that his trust is misplaced. “I appreciate you saying that.”

“Realm told me you were remarkable in The Program, and now I see it.” He pauses. “You know, I was at your house that day. I was one of the handlers who brought you to the facility,” he says softly. “And you were . . . really sick. I’m so glad to see you healthy now. I’ve really been pulling for you.”

I can feel the color drain from my face when he says this. “You were there?” is all I can mumble. Oh, God. They took me from my own house?

Kevin nods and puts his hand on my shoulder. “I was. And when Realm contacted me about your release, I was hesitant. I didn’t think you’d be a good candidate, but now I see it. You’re very clever.”

“Candidate for what?”

Kevin motions toward the office door as if reminding me that I have therapy. As he holds it open, he smiles. “I’ll have Realm get in touch with you soon,” he says. “I think that’d make you both pretty happy.”

“I would love to see him.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He leaves, but I’m stunned, standing in the middle of the front office. Kevin has seen a side of me that I can’t remember. He said I’d been really sick. I can’t even picture it.

“Can I help you?” the secretary asks, startling me.

I look at her and then check back over my shoulder to make sure Kevin is gone. When I’m sure he is, I smile. “Hi,” I say. “Mr. Bellis wanted copy paper?”

? ? ?

I hurry through the empty halls and stash the ream of paper in my locker. My heart is racing with the worry of getting caught, but I feel alive right now—as if I’m escaping more than just fifty minutes of class. I start toward the back door, hoping to sneak through it toward the far lot.

When I get outside, I remember about the football field. “Damn it,” I murmur. Even though sports aren’t played anymore, they’ve kept the lawn intact, even mowing it short. But it rained heavily last night and the field looks half-flooded. It’s the only way to the far lot unless I walk around the building, possibly getting seen by the front office. I sigh and move closer to the field to check it out.

The air around me is warm from the sun. It smells new and clean, and I’m suddenly reminded of the times I spent camping with Brady. Sometimes it would pour rain, and we’d be stuck in the tent, playing cards and eating beef jerky. It was still fun, though. We always had fun.

As my sneaker squishes in the wet earth, I think about how much I miss Brady. It’s like my memories of him end with us happy. Just happiness and then he’s gone, a quietness in its place. I wonder how I handled losing him. My mother said it was tough on me, but I wonder if I was brave. Or I wonder if his dying was what finally broke me.

“Sloane!”

I jump and spin around, nearly wiping out on the field as I see James jogging up, his cheeks pink from running. The sun reflects off his hair, casting him in gold. I hate how gorgeous he is.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble?” I ask the minute he’s in front of me, breathing hard. I look behind him to make sure no one’s watching, but he just smiles.

“Define trouble.”

I shake my head and turn, starting across the field, even though my sneakers are getting sucked into the mud. “Freaking hell,” I say, trying to jump from grass patch to grass patch.

“So you skip class too?” James asks.

“Obviously. But I don’t try to get caught by yelling people’s name across the field.”

“Are you pissed because I had a minibreakdown in the car?”

I stop, and James bumps into the back of me, nearly sending me headlong into the mud. I grab for his shirt and he grabs for my hand and soon we’re both off balance. When we’re finally standing straight, our feet are practically on top of each other’s, James holding me by the wrist. I worry that someone will see us like this. He shouldn’t be this close. And he definitely shouldn’t be looking at me like that.

“I have to go,” I say, yanking away. Only when I do, James’s foot slides in the mud and then he’s falling back, landing faceup in a pile of mud.

“I am so sorry!” I say, putting my hand over my mouth. But instead of jumping up and trying to clean himself off, James starts laughing hysterically.

“You did that on purpose,” he says. “You’re so dead.” He gets up, trying to grab for me, but his knee slides, and he ends up sprawling out on his stomach, covered in mud from head to toe. “Oh my God,” he says. He rolls over and lands with a splat right next to my feet, and I can’t stop myself from bursting out laughing.

“You laughing at me?” he asks, still staring up at the sky.

“Yes,” I say immediately. “I absolutely am.”

He lifts his head, mud smeared on his ear, and grabs my pant leg. “Oh, yeah?”

“Don’t you dare.”

He knots the jean fabric in his fist, yanking on it playfully. “Do you like getting dirty?”

“I will beat you senseless.” I see where he’s smeared mud on my clothing already. I’m afraid he might actually drag me down with him. “I have no problem kicking your balls,” I add.

He chuckles and pulls me again, making me stumble, but I correct myself before I fall. Around us the world smells like earth and life. I try to pull from his grasp without letting my other sneaker slip in the mud.

“James,” I say calmly, “let me go or I swear I’ll scream.”

“Really? You would get me thrown back into The Program?”

And when I think about it, I know I wouldn’t. I kick his hand and yank back, but my other sneaker flips out from under me and I fall.

James swears and moves quickly, trying to catch me, but I’m faceup in the mud before he can. The cool, mushy earth surrounds me as I catch my breath.

“Sloane?” James is kneeling next to me, looking concerned. “I wasn’t really going to pull you into the mud.”

I stare back at him, my fingers digging into a clump of mud at my side. James actually looks worried. He’s such an idiot. With a fierce right hook, I smash a handful of mud on the side of his face, catching him completely off guard as he falls to his side. The minute he’s down I start taking clumps of mud and grass and throwing them at him, burying him.

He’s laughing, bits of dirt on his teeth before he sits up and lunges, tackling me. “You’re nuts,” he says. “Oh, and I think you’re hungry.” He’s got me pinned, my ears half-buried in the mud, blocking out the sound of his threats.

He holds up a huge handful of mud, his own face covered nearly completely. He looks ridiculous, his blue eyes standing out against the dark dirt. He holds the mud over my face, little bits of dirty water dripping on my cheek. “You’re going to eat this,” he says.

“Don’t!” I’m half laughing, half begging, trying to turn my face so he won’t stuff the dirt into my mouth.

James takes both my hands in one of his, pining them over my head as he moves to straddle me, wiping the mud on my neck, smearing it with his fingers.

“Ew!” he says dramatically. “This must feel so disgusting.” He shoves it down the front of my shirt.

The mud is cold and slimy, and I turn from left to right trying to get away from it, giggling the entire time.

“You pushed me in the mud,” he says, grabbing another big handful from next to my face. “Then you threatened my balls. I think you should pay, don’t you?”

“No!”

James lets my hands go, but doesn’t get up. He’s so proud of himself, having pinned a girl half his size, but I don’t point this out. He exhales and throws the clump of mud off to the side, looking down at me as if he doesn’t know what to do with me now.

“You’re a vicious little thing,” James says as he finally crawls off me. “You would have really hurt me if I let you.” His sneakers make a sucking noise as he stands up. When he holds out his hand to me, I look at it doubtfully.

“Truce?” he asks.

“Whatever.” I take his hand and let me him help me up, even let him hold my arm as we make it across the muddy field, heading toward the back end of the parking lot.

“You’re filthy,” he says, like it’s a surprise, pausing at his car. “You should let me drive you home.”

“And what about our clothes?” I ask, when I stop outside the passenger door.

“If it were my car, you’d have to ride home naked.” He smiles at the idea. “But since it’s my dad’s, I don’t care if it gets dirty.”

I decide to at least take off my cardigan, leaving the muddy tank top underneath. James takes off his shirt altogether, and I try not to notice. I have to try pretty hard. When we sit in the car and turn to each other, we both crack up.

“Maybe you could spray me down with your hose before I head home?” James asks, starting the car.

“Like a dog.”

“You can scratch my belly if you want.”

“Gross.”

? ? ?

When we get to my house, my parents are just climbing out of their car. I forgot it was their support group day and they’d be home early. As we stop at the curb, James laughs. “Good thing you didn’t really ride home naked.”

“Not sure this is much of an improvement.” I flip down the mirror and see my mud-covered skin and then glare at James. “I think you’re a bad influence,” I tell him.

He grins. “I hope so.”

I shake my head and start to open the door. “It might be weird if I spray you down on my front lawn while my parents watch,” I say. “Although you strike me as an exhibitionist.”

“Oh, I am. But that’s fine. I’ll wash up at home.”

I get out, but before I close the door, James calls my name. “What?” I ask, a smile teasing my lips.

“It was a good day,” he says simply. “Thanks.”

I agree, then close his door, watching as he drives off. I almost wish I’d stayed in the car. That was . . . nice. In a really strange and dirty way.

“Sloane?” my mother calls, her voice tight. When I turn, the looks on my parents’ faces are almost comical in their confusion.

“Sorry,” I say, although I don’t sound it. “I fell in the mud, and James brought me home.”

“James?” my mother says, exchanging a concerned glance with my father. It stops me cold.

“What?” I ask.

“It’s just . . .” My mother pauses as if debating something. “Sloane, you’re not supposed to date after—”

“Oh, we’re not,” I say quickly. “It’s not like that.”

My mother lets out a held breath. “That’s good. We just want to keep you safe, honey.”

Her tone is tense, but rather than press her, I go inside to clean up. I don’t want to ruin my first fun day in what seems like forever. Or at least, the first one I can remember.