The Program (The Program #1)(29)
Author: Suzanne Young

“Because you took him. You changed him.”

“I didn’t do those things. James was at another facility. But I’ve had a chance to look through his file.” She lowers her voice. “It says that James attempted suicide in The Program. Would you rather he was dead?”

Her words cut through me and I touch my chest, startled. James tried to kill himself ? Oh my God, the thought of it, just the thought makes tears stream from my eyes. “No,” I whisper. “I wouldn’t want him dead.”

“That’s good, Sloane,” she says, like it answers a question. “That how you’re supposed to react when someone wants to kill himself. Now, tell me more about James. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”

I sniffle, putting my forearm over my face as I think back on my and James’s life together. “I used to avoid him,” I start, relaxing into the medication. “He’d be at the house with Brady, and I would duck out of the room, or just pretend he wasn’t there. A few times he asked if I was okay, but I couldn’t look him in the eyes after the camping thing. Brady told me I was acting weird.” I laugh softly and lower my arm, remembering the face my brother would make when he said it.

“After a few weeks,” I continue, “James got annoyed. He even paid Brady five bucks to get him to call me into the room with them. I thought he was making fun of me, but when I stormed off, things changed.”

“How so?” Dr. Warren asks.

“James followed me upstairs, telling my brother he was coming to apologize. When he knocked on my door, I didn’t want to let him in at first. But he said please.” I smile, still able to hear his voice in head. Hear the soft, desperate way his words struck my heart. I was helpless to resist him, even then.

I wait before telling Dr. Warren the rest, wait as the drugs course through my veins, enveloping me in calm. I want to tell her everything. But first, I relive the moment for myself, seeking my own safe place in The Program.

• • •

When I opened my bedroom door, I found James leaning against the frame, looking utterly miserable.

“You hate me,” he said.

“No.”

“Then why are you ignoring me?”

I was thrown off, and looked past him into the hall to make sure no one was around. “What do you care?” I asked. “You already told me I wasn’t allowed to . . .” I motioned between the two of us, my face burning with embarrassment.

“Yeah, I say a lot of stupid things, Sloane. Why did you listen to that one?”

I stepped back then, confused. Was he . . . ? Did he . . . ?

James pushed my door open wider and walked in, closing it behind him. I stared at him, not sure what he was going to do.

“Here’s the thing,” he said. “I don’t want to like you.” My heart sunk. “I don’t even want to notice you’re pretty. I want to tackle you in the dirt and make fun of your hair. I shouldn’t be thinking about putting my arms around you. And I sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking about kissing you right now.”

I tiny gasp escaped my lips, and my entire body warmed at his confession. But I was terrified of what would happen next, what it would mean. “You can’t kiss me,” I said, taking another step back. “You’ll ruin everything.”

“I know!” he agreed. He looked around my room, clearly annoyed, and then back at me. “What have you done?” he asked me.

“Me?”

“God,” he said, ignoring my question. “Do you know how many girls I don’t like? And then the one I do . . . It’s my best friend’s little sister?”

Butterflies went crazy in my stomach. “You like me?”

His eyes met mine, and then he furrowed his brow like he thought I was stupid. “Yes, Sloane.”

“And you’re being mean to me because . . .”

Then suddenly, James’s face cleared and he laughed. “I don’t know exactly. But I’ve been trying to not like you since you gave me a hard-on in the tent so—”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it. Okay, so listen. We’re not going to kiss or anything,” he said, as if I’d propositioned him. “Maybe . . . I don’t know, maybe if we hang out—just the two of us—we’ll realize that we don’t really like each other. You could end up hating me. I can be a total shithead.”

My mouth twitched with a smile. “James, I’ve known you since I was in second grade. I’m not sure spending more time together is a great idea.”

He watched me for a while, thinking it over. “Probably not,” he said quietly. “But I want to anyway.”

“Oh.”

He shrugged. “Come here.”

I widened my eyes, startled. I thought he said we wouldn’t kiss. “No.”

James didn’t wait and instead moved to wrap his arms around me, pulling me into a hug. He rested his cheek on the top of my head, and I wasn’t sure what to do. We didn’t move for a long moment, and eventually I slid my hands from my side and put them around his waist. He sighed when I did.

“Freaking hell, Sloane,” he breathed into my hair. “We’re gonna end up making a mess of things.”

“I know.”

He squeezed me one more time and then dropped his arms, turning and leaving the room without another look back at me. I was stunned, standing there alone in my room. But after a moment, I put my hand over my heart and smiled.

• • •

I startle when the buzzer sounds the minute I’m done talking, signaling the end of therapy. I feel better, the remembered moments with James enough to make me want to live another day. Even if it’s just today.

I stand to leave when Dr. Warren calls my name. I turn back and she smiles, sliding the Dixie cup with a yellow pill toward me. “You forgot your medication,” she says.

Even though the calming effects of the last pill are still heavy in my system, I get a sudden sense that something is wrong. I look down at the medication, trying to figure out what’s really going on.

“What’s in the pills?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at Dr. Warren.

“I told you, just something to relax you.”

“Then I don’t need it,” I say. “The last dose is still with me.”

Her expression doesn’t falter. “Take the pill, Sloane.”

My heart kicks up its beats, and I move back a step. “No.”