The Program (The Program #1)(51)
Author: Suzanne Young

“I should go,” he says. “I’ve got to get back to the boys. They’re having a going-away party for me.”

“And I wasn’t invited?” I ask, not wanting Realm to leave. I feel terrible, like I’m a bad friend to him.

“Sorry, sweetness,” he says. “Guys only.”

Realm stands but I reach out to take his arm, stopping him from walking away. He pauses, looking down at the floor as if he’s afraid to turn to me. I climb out of bed and pull him into a hug, resting my cheek against his chest.

“I’ll miss you,” I say. “I’ll miss you madly.”

Realm squeezes me tightly then, his arm clasped around me. “I’ll miss you, too.”

And when he pulls back, I give him a soft peck on the lips, hoping it’s enough. Hoping it shows how much I care. But by the sad smile on his face, I know it’s not. So I let him leave.

• • •

The nurse gives me permission to take one last walk with Realm, so we go out to the garden. It’s sunny and bright, and I think again how beautiful the flowers look. Realm’s ride will be here in less than a half hour, and then he’ll be gone.

I reach out to take his hand, surprised by how cool it is. He bumps his shoulder into mine, and we walk a little longer.

“Tabitha is leaving on Monday,” I tell him. “She’s got her new haircut, some new clothes. Shep’s getting a new style too—and hopefully some deodorant.” I look sideways at Realm and drop his hand. “How come they didn’t make you over?”

“Maybe there isn’t anything to improve on.”

I laugh. “Well, Dr. Warren says that the return is easier if we freshen up our looks. I think she might be right. I’m thinking of straightening my hair.”

Realm reaches up suddenly, holding a handful of my curls. “No,” he says. “Your hair’s beautiful.” He shrugs. “You’re beautiful.”

I blush, but then back away, letting my hair fall from his palm.

Realm kicks at some pebbles on the path. “Sloane, if things were different, if we weren’t in The Program . . . do you think we could be together?”

Prickles race up my skin, and I’m sure that I don’t know the answer. Realm steps closer and puts his hands on my bare upper arms. “I could take care of you if you want,” he says. “And when you get out of here, I’d be there.”

“I don’t want anyone to take care of me,” I say. “I want to figure out how to take care of myself. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“I know you,” he says, sounding somber. “And I’d do anything for you, even if you can’t understand why right now.” He watches me for a long moment, no doubt trying to see if I feel something for him other than friendship.

I wonder then how I’ll know when I’m in love, especially if I don’t know what it feels like. Have I ever been in love before? Did anyone love me back?

“If you look for me, Sloane,” Realm says, “I’ll be waiting.”

I’m suddenly choked up, and I lean into a hug, closing my eyes tightly. “Thank you for everything, Realm. Thank you for—”

“Michael,” a voice calls out. We separate. Nurse Kell is waving to him from across the lawn, a blond woman in dark sunglasses beside her. Realm stiffens next to me, and his hands fall away. He meets my eyes one more time and kisses my forehead. Then he moves to pause by my ear.

“They’ll still watch you,” he whispers. “They’ll look for signs.”

“Signs of what?” Fear streaks through me.

“I’ll help you any way I can,” he continues. “Don’t forget that.”

I think it’s a crazy thing to tell someone in The Program—don’t forget. That’s what we’re here for. Forgetting is how we’ve all gotten better. Tears fall down my cheeks as Realm backs away, looking helplessly at me as he does. When he turns around, his sneakers crunch the gravel. I watch him walk out of The Program. And out of my life.

• • •

It’s a little over a week later when I’m sitting in Dr. Warren’s office, my hair newly cut and straightened. The mess of dark curls are now smooth and reach just below my chin. She smiles the minute she sees me.

“You look fantastic, Sloane,” she says. “You have truly been a model patient.”

I nod as if I’m thanking her, but in truth I don’t remember any of our sessions beyond the final few. We spent our last meetings piecing together my memories. She reminds me of the sequence of events because it occasionally gets jumbled in my head. She fills in the things I can’t remember, like about my family.

“You’ll be happy to know that The Program has a one hundred percent survival rate, and that very few of our subjects ever relapse. But there are some precautions you’ll have to take. There will be weekly doctor visits for the first month, then bimonthly until the final evaluation in three months. You’ll have access to therapy and medication if you need it, but it won’t be forced unless you start to exhibit symptoms again. For the first week, we ask that you take the supplied relaxant, just to help with the transition to your new school.

“You are not allowed to fraternize in any serious way with nonreturners. Although you’re cured, you are still considered high-risk pending your final evaluation. After that you’re free to talk to whomever you want.” Her mouth twitches and for a second I don’t think that she means it. But I’m so close to going home now, I don’t mention it. I just nod.

Dr. Warren purses her lips and puts her elbows on her desk, leaning forward. “We want you to live, Sloane,” she says. “We want you to have a full, happy life. We’ve given you the best chance possible by removing the infected memories. Now it’s up to you. But know, if you get sick again, you will be flagged. And then you’ll be required to stay in The Program until you’re eighteen.”

I swallow hard, thinking that my birthday is still seven months away. That would be a long time to be stuck here, especially without Realm. “I understand,” I tell her.

“Good.” She looks relieved as she straightens. “You’ll have a handler assigned to you for the first few weeks, helping you out at school and accompanying you outside of your house. This is a precaution because of your fragile state. Take it easy, Sloane. Don’t push yourself too hard.”