The Program (The Program #1)(57)
Author: Suzanne Young

“What reason?” I ask again.

“Michael Realm,” he finally answers. “He’s asked me to look out for you.”

I rock back on my heels. “Realm? But . . . why would you do that? He’s a patient and—”

“I’ve known Michael for a while,” Kevin says quickly. “And he asked this as a favor. He’s hoping that once you’re well, I can take you to see him. Off the grid.” Kevin looks around once, as if he’s worried about being overheard. It occurs to me then that he’s breaking the rules, that he can be arrested for what he’s doing.

And I think that he’s right. I do trust him more now.

“Thank you for telling me,” I say quietly. “And I’d like to see Realm again. But he told me I’d have to wait.”

“You do,” Kevin confirms, starting for the door of his van. “But in a few weeks, you should be okay. Just don’t . . .” He stops to look around again. “Just don’t do anything stupid. And whatever you do, don’t tell anyone about this. You’ll compromise us all.”

“I’ll try.” The nerves in my stomach calm. The fact that Realm is looking out for me makes me feel safer. And it makes me miss him. I don’t want to screw up my chances of seeing him again.

Kevin and I both climb inside the van, and he starts the engine, glancing over his shoulder to back out. “Kevin,” I say. “Let’s never come back here again, okay? This place gives me the creeps.”

He smiles and agrees, and then we leave the Wellness Center behind.

• • •

Lacey is waiting for me outside of class the next morning. Kevin stands off to the side of the door while I stop to talk to her, and Lacey shrugs apologetically.

“I don’t know what happened last night,” she says, quietly enough so that Kevin won’t hear. “But the way Liam tore out of there, I’m guessing he was a dick and you told him off. He can be that way sometimes.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I say. “He probably didn’t even think he was doing anything wrong.”

Lacey nods at this, and moves over as several students file past us into class. “It’s harder for returners,” she murmurs. “People know more about us than we do. There’s no one to trust anymore. It’s enough to make me . . .” She stops and looks to where Kevin is standing. “Never mind,” she says, waving her hand. “We should go in.”

I agree and follow behind her. Kevin enters after us, taking his place at the back of the room. I look around again, thinking that everyone seems content, easygoing. But I didn’t take my pill again today, and the fog of treatment is slowly clearing. Just then Lacey looks back over her shoulder at me and presses her lips into a smile. She’s not medicated, not like the rest. I wonder if we’re the only two lucid students in this room right now.

I begin filling out the daily assessment on my desk, lying on the first question. Because I do feel anxious and overwhelmed. But I’d never tell them that.

• • •

As I walk into my third-period math class, I see a list of problems on the board. I take out my notebook after I sit, and jot them down, hoping to be able to figure out at least one. Math is becoming a huge source of frustration for me. I’m lost in a calculation when a chair squeaks next to me.

I look over, noticing him—James. He looks a little different in daylight, or maybe it’s the fact that my medication has worked its way out of my system, letting images sharpen again.

He has blond hair, cut close to his scalp. He’s wearing a short-sleeved button-down plaid shirt that doesn’t seem to be his, something about it wrong on him. It also doesn’t hide the white scars on his bicep. I see him look at me from the corners of his eyes, but he doesn’t turn. In fact, he just leans forward and then takes out his phone to text, or play a game. I’m not sure.

There’s a strange mix of anxiety in my stomach as I watch him. I’m about to whisper a thank-you, even though I’ve already told him. I feel like I should say something, but just then our teacher walks in and tells us to take out our books.

I abandon the math problems from the board, and open to the correct page. I sneak a look sideways to see James continuing to type on his phone.

“Mr. Murphy,” our teacher calls from the front. “If you wouldn’t mind . . .” She raises one eyebrow at him.

James doesn’t immediately react, and I shoot a look back to Kevin. My heart rate spikes, afraid that this guy is going to get himself thrown out of class. But before anything else happens, James slips his phone back into his pocket and opens his book, never making a sound.

When that’s settled, Mrs. Cavalier starts in on the lesson, and I try not to look next to me. When class comes to an end, James is the first one out the door.

• • •

Lacey waves me over to her table when I get to lunch. Kevin tells me to go ahead. He doesn’t offer me the white pill anymore, which tells me that maybe I never really needed it in the first place. Maybe they were just to keep me complacent. At home my doses go into the disposal.

I sit across from Lacey, opening my brown bag. Now that I’m not taking anything, my appetite has returned. I bite into my sandwich as Lacey takes out her cupcakes, sliding one over to me.

“Evan broke up with me today,” she says conversationally. “He said my rebel ways make him nervous. Which I think is funny considering that he’s the one who’s best friends with a non-returner. That alone is asking for trouble—they’re paranoid and dangerous. Hell, they spread suicide. And truly, Liam is scared shitless of us. I bet he’s the one that told him to end things.”

“Liam’s not scared of me,” I say, taking the cupcake from the plastic to break it open. “But that other guy might have worried him just a little.” I lick the cream, and Lacey tilts her head questioningly.

“What other guy?”

I glance around then, trying to find him. When I see him sitting alone at a table, I don’t mention it at first. Instead I look him over. He’s really cute, in an intimidating sort of way. His light-blue eyes gaze out the window as he drinks from a carton of milk. I wonder why he helped me last night, yet he won’t look at me otherwise. At just that moment, he turns to meet my stare and I freeze.

Across from me Lacey laughs. “James Murphy,” she says.

“What?” Startled, I turn back to her.