The Complication (The Program #6)(20)

“Tatum,” Foster says, his voice hoarse. “Not to alarm you, but this is all really fucked. We need to tell Nathan.”

“But Nathan knew,” I say, still unsure. “He kept this from me. How can I—”

“Hey,” Foster responds, leaning in. “Don’t ever doubt him. Sure, Nathan messes up sometimes, but if you think about it, he was the only one being honest with you. Don’t punish him for that.”

I consider his statement, and ultimately, I know Foster’s right—Nathan would never hurt me, not on purpose. And he doesn’t lie. At least, he tries not to, I guess. The minute he told me about The Program, I should have questioned it. We could have figured it out together.

Foster takes out his phone but gives me the courtesy of pausing in case I want to reject the idea. I nod for him to call Nathan, a bit concerned about how it’ll play out. I’m sure Nathan will be offended that I confided in Foster first, but eventually, after a little brooding, he’ll get why. And then he’ll help. I hope he can help.

Foster tells Nathan to come to the house, and after he hangs up, he says that Nathan was already on his way. “He’ll be here in about two minutes.” He coughs a laugh and leans back against the sofa again, closing his eyes like his head hurts.

“Do you want something for your headache?” I ask.

“A guillotine,” he suggests.

I laugh, and with effort he lifts his head and looks at me. “So tell me about your afternoon with Wes,” he says. “I need the distraction from my pain.”

“He still looks good, shockingly good,” I say, knowing Foster will find that tidbit especially interesting. He smiles.

“Not sure it’s much of a shock,” he replies. “And how was he acting? You said he got kicked out of class?”

I nod and pull my legs underneath me. It feels good to talk about Wes, talk about him in a way that’s normal. Not focusing on our past or our mistakes.

“He was in a really good mood,” I say with a smile. “They erased all of his problems, and I got a glimpse of a different version of him. A happy one. It was . . . refreshing.” My smile fades as I stare at my reflection in the blank TV set.

“But?” Foster says, furrowing his brow.

“But they erased me, too,” I say, turning to him. “That’s why he was happy. Because I was never part of his life.”

Foster scoffs and leans forward. “That’s bullshit,” he says, but pauses. “Okay, not total bullshit, but you weren’t the problem, Tatum. It was the situation. Either way,” Foster says, waving his hand to get past this emotional turn, “Wes ended up at your house. How’d that happen?”

I tell him about the Jeep not starting, about the ride home. As I talk, the corners of Foster’s lips upturn.

“That’s awfully nice of him,” Foster observes. “You know, seeing that you’re strangers and all. Does he like you?”

The pure innocence of the question makes me smile. “I think he might,” I say. “I think he does.”

“Promising.”

“Is it, though?” I ask.

We fall silent, both of us knowing that Wes and me getting back together would be tempting fate to rip us apart again. Maybe this time for good. It’s dangerous. And it’s stupid.

“Yeah, well. At least hook up,” Foster offers casually, making me laugh.





CHAPTER NINE


THERE’S A SWIFT KNOCK AT the front door before it opens and Nathan rushes inside. He looks around until he spots me and Foster on the couch. His eyes are wild, worried. Behind him, Jana slips inside and closes the door quietly. She went home sick, but I guess she’s feeling better. She hangs back, as if knowing she wasn’t invited to this party.

Next to me, Foster shifts on the couch. “Hey,” he says to Nathan. “We need to talk.” He tilts his head to look at Jana. “Hi, Jana,” he says a bit coldly. “Would you mind excusing us for a while?”

She opens her mouth to answer, but Nathan steps in front of her. “No, she’s fine,” he says defensively. Behind him, Jana lowers her eyes.

Foster sits up to turn around fully. “It’s not fine,” Foster says. “There’s something we need to discuss. It doesn’t involve her.”

“Foster—” I start, but he holds up his hand to stop me.

“Sorry, but this isn’t for her,” Foster says, trying to convey the importance of the conversation he wants to have.

Nathan puts his arm around Jana, bringing her forward to prove a point. It annoys me, although not quite as much as it annoys Foster. I don’t dislike Jana as a person, but something about her and Nathan together . . . it doesn’t feel right.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Nathan states.

“Cool,” Foster says like it’s an interesting fact. “And I have a boyfriend, but you don’t see me dragging him into every private conversation.”

Nathan scoffs, settling in for a longer argument, but Jana slides out from under his arm.

“It’s okay,” she says to him. “I have to get home anyway.” She gets on her tiptoes and kisses Nathan on the lips, pausing before doing it again. It’s grossly intimate, and Foster sighs heavily and turns back around to give them privacy. “Call me later,” she whispers.