The Program (The Program #1)(82)

“You’re saying you want my affection?” He grins, but I don’t return it.

“Look,” I tell him. “Just because I said that I thought we’d”—I lower my voice—“comforted each other before, doesn’t mean I was propositioning you. You didn’t have to run off and make me feel stupid like that.”

His smile fades. “I know.”

I wait, but he doesn’t expand. “You know? Wow, thanks for the apology. Nice talking with you, James.” I move to walk away, but he reaches out to take my elbow.

“Wait,” he says quietly. “Don’t be mad. I have my reasons.”

“And you don’t care to share them?”

“Not really. But maybe I’m not as tough as you think.” I’d say he was repeating some cheesy line he’d heard in a movie except for the fact that he looks miserable when he says it. I gently take my arm from his grasp before people notice.

“So what do you want now?” I ask him seriously.

“I wish I knew, Sloane. But I am interested in finding out more about your brother. About . . . you. I mean, we could have all been friends.”

I nod. “You looked pretty happy in the picture.”

“I just wish we could get our memories back.”

It occurs to me then that Realm might know what to do. He’s always been one step ahead, always known more about The Program than anybody.

“There is someone,” I say. “He was my friend in The Program, and he’s really smart. He might know what to do.”

James looks me over as if trying to decipher some secret code, but then he shrugs. “Okay, who is he?”

“His name is Realm, and I have his address. I’m going to show up and see if he can help.”

“Sounds like a terrible plan.”

“Got a better one?”

James laughs. “Sloane, I never have a plan. Tell you what, how about you sneak out of your house tonight and meet me on the corner of Barron and Elm. I’ll drive you to your boyfriend’s house.”

Realm’s not my boyfriend, but I decide not to deny or acknowledge it. I agree to meet James at the corner at six, but I can see the uncertainty in his eyes, as if he’s still trying to figure out who Realm is to me. And I leave him like that, glad to let him wonder about me for once.

• • •

The house is set back from the street, hidden down a long gravel driveway behind large trees. As we pull up, the rocks crunch under the tires, and I take in how isolated it looks. A small wood-shingled house surrounded by a forest, a few dead flowers in the beds.

“You sure you know this guy?” James asks. “This looks like a place where unsuspecting teenagers come to have sex and get murdered.”

I laugh and look sideways at him. “Don’t embarrass me in front of my friend. Realm’s a good guy.”

“Was he more than a friend? Not that it’s any of my business.” He lowers his eyes. A sudden rush of guilt spreads over me.

“No, it’s okay to ask. He, um . . . It was complicated, I guess.”

James doesn’t say anything but I can feel a heavy silence fill the car. Not sure what else to do, I open the door and get out, waiting for James to follow me up to the house. On the front porch, I’m overwhelmed with nervousness and excitement. I’m about to see Realm again. It’s been over a month. Will he look different? I know I do.

The door opens just a crack as he peers out, reminding me of how he would do that in The Program when we were sneaking around. My smile spreads, and then the door flies open and Realm steps forward, swinging me into a big hug before I can even get a look at him.

“Hey, sweetness,” he says, crushing me against him. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Realm smells good, not like detergent and soap, but of clean skin. A hint of cologne. I pull back to look at him. His hair is shorter, his complexion less ghostly. It’s then that he notices James leaning against the porch railing.

“Oh, hi,” Realm says, sounding surprised. He offers his hand and James takes it. “Michael Realm,” Realm says.

“James Murphy.”

The smile abruptly falls from Realm’s face, and I see the color that was just there drain away. “Nice to meet you,” he practically whispers, and takes a step back. He shoots a dark look at me.

“Come in.” He pushes the door open and motions for us to enter. James thanks him, and I can’t help but see the small bit of satisfaction in his expression at Realm’s discomfort.

We stand around the entry as Realm follows us in and then bolts the door. The house is more like a cabin with exposed wooden beams and a rustic decor. It doesn’t strike me as something Realm would be into, but then I don’t really know what he was like before The Program. Neither does he.

“So how’ve you been, Sloane?” he asks, checking me over.

“Weird,” I say. “Everything has been a little weird for me. You?”

“Oh, I’m just peachy.”

Realm leads us into the living room, and I sit on the couch while James takes a chair near the fireplace. Realm collapses next to me, wrapping me in a hug once again. “God, I’ve missed you,” he says. “And I like the hair.”

“You said not to change it.”