The Complication (The Program #6)(57)

“She said she loved you?” Foster asks him. He bites off a piece of bacon, calm about all of this. “Did you love her? Is that what she used to manipulate you?”

Nathan sighs, lifting his head to glare at Foster. Foster nods that he doesn’t have to answer, before biting another piece of bacon. And I can’t stand that the first girl Nathan loved did this to him. He’ll never get over it; how could he?

“She also got a job at Rockstar Pizza a few weeks ago,” I add, trying to lighten the moment. Lift his pain. “So she manipulated him with pizza, too.”

Nathan sniffs a laugh like he hates me. “Now I can never eat there again,” he says, pushing his food around on his plate. “She took my favorite restaurant from me. It’s unforgivable.”

“You’ll learn to love again,” I tell him wistfully. “Maybe it won’t be Rockstar, but I know there’s a special pie out there for you.” Nathan laughs.

“So just to make sure . . . ,” Foster starts, scrunching up his nose. “Jana is Melody, who is a closer—a person who impersonates someone who died. Am I right so far?”

Nathan nods.

“Cool. She’s also a handler, and Vanessa was a patient she monitored in The Program. I’m still good?”

“Yes, Foster,” Nathan says, wanting him to get to the point he’s sure he’s trying to make.

“And then Melody watches Vanessa until she kills her—inadvertently,” he adds quickly for Nathan’s benefit. “But then she starts hooking up with you to keep an eye on Tatum?”

“That’s what I’ve got,” Nathan says. His skin is pale, and when he glances over at me, his hazel eyes are glassy with embarrassment.

“Don’t,” I whisper, hating that he blames himself.

“And so you broke up with her,” Foster continues brightly, and holds out his fist for Nathan to bump; he does. “But she’s still around. At least for a little bit?”

“I guess,” Nathan says.

“But I can’t tell Arturo?” Foster wants to know.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Nathan says. “I just want her to go away. I don’t want to answer questions or have people wonder if I was somehow in with a handler.”

“You were in with a handler,” Foster says, taking a sip of his coffee. I kick him under the table, and he apologizes.

“Look,” Foster says, pushing aside his plate and leaning into the table. “It’s not your fault, Nathan. I seriously shouldn’t even have to tell you that. You’re one of the most decent guys I’ve ever met, and I fucking love you. But Jana sucked. She always did. Now, we’re going to expunge her from the record, and push ahead. Correct?”

I can see Nathan wants to blame himself anyway, but he nods that it’s time for us to move on.

“The real Jana Simms died last year,” Nathan says. “And I never knew her. So let’s just leave it at that.”

“Done,” Foster replies easily. But the moment is dark. Morbid and heavy.

My phone buzzes with a message, and I check it. I sigh heavily, and Foster peeks over to read the text.

Seriously, Wes texts. Please call me back.

I look up and meet Foster’s eyes, and he motions to the phone on the table. “Seems to be going well,” he says sarcastically. “And we should note that I saw Wes at school before I left, and he’s at once the most adorable and saddest thing I’ve ever seen. Am I wrong to assume that has to do with you?”

“Not on purpose,” I say, lowering my eyes.

“Uh . . . didn’t you sleep over his house, like, two days ago?” Foster asks.

“Right?” Nathan laughs and reaches over to take a piece of bacon off Foster’s discarded plate. Foster smiles, as if reassured now that Nathan is eating again.

“Yes, I did sleep there,” I say. “But nothing happened. Wes and I aren’t getting back together. In fact, I told him that we never dated—that we were just friends.”

“That was dumb. And kind of fucking mean,” Foster adds, partially under his breath.

“Yeah, well, in case you forgot,” I say, “I killed someone yesterday.”

“You didn’t kill him,” Nathan says immediately.

“Okay,” I admit. “But I’m still their proof of concept, whatever that is. I’m like, the last person Wes should talk to.”

“You are definitely a bit of a mess right now,” Foster agrees. “But that’s exactly why you shouldn’t cut him completely out of your life. You have a history together. You don’t have to burn the entire bridge, Tatum. You might still need to cross it.”

“You don’t understand,” I say, guilty. “He can’t be with me. I . . . I broke up with him. Last year, before he met Kyle, I broke up with Wes. I told him to see other people.”

Foster tilts his head, confused, and Nathan leans his elbows on the table.

“I had a crashback,” I confess to them. “And I saw it all. What I did, said. How I hurt him. It’s my fault.”

“What?” Nathan says, shaking his head. “Wait . . . seriously, what? This changes everything. Your entire history. How could you—?” He stops himself from asking how I could forget something like this, wincing slightly.