The Program (The Program #1)(98)

I don’t answer, and watch as she goes inside, leaving me on the darkened porch of my lost friend’s house. I gaze down at the bag, my back to James as I reach inside to take out the pill. I stare at it so long that my vision starts to tunnel—the color just a streak across my mental picture.

I blink quickly and look at it again, wondering how it would change me—getting my life back. I’d remember Brady’s death—feel that pain all over again. And then there’s the life I had with James. I could take this pill and remember everything, but James still wouldn’t. Can I really handle loving him completely when he’s still so new to accepting us? Or what if we never really loved each other at all? What if Realm was wrong about that?

I could give James the pill, but what if he finds some horrible truth about Brady or me or his mother? He could realize that there really isn’t anyone to trust. Maybe we all betrayed each other.

It’s like I hold a lifetime in my fingers. I’d be complete, but at the same time . . . what if I don’t like who I was?

I look to the sky where the sun has set, leaving the clouds streaked in the same shade of orange as the pill. Realm has given me a gift—a choice. He’s given me his friendship, his love, and in my way, I love him back. But he said I wouldn’t forgive him for the things I’d find lost in my head. Do I believe that? Do I believe him?

Tears race down my cheeks, and I stare down, one small object so full of information. Life. Loss. Right now, I have what I need. I have James. A way out of here. But this could all be a lie, a hanging string to be pulled, unraveling everything.

Can I stand knowing what happened to my brother that day? James and I were there, but we hadn’t stopped it. There’s the slash on my wrist. The way my mother looks at me, filled with concern and knowledge. God, what if I was a horrible person? Maybe . . . maybe that’s why I wanted to die. Maybe I was the reason James wanted to die.

A small whimper escapes my lips as I let the pill drop back into the bag. I want to crush it under the heel of my shoe, but I’m terrified that I’ll change my mind later. So I fold the bag into a small plastic square and stuff it into the back pocket of my jeans. I won’t take it, but I won’t destroy it, either. At least not yet.

And with that choice, my heart breaks. I’m saying good-bye to who I used to be. Who I can never really be again. The people I once knew are different. Some are changed like me, others are dead. Knowing that can only bring me more pain. More agony.

I miss Realm, and I’m glad I won’t know what he doesn’t want me to remember. This way, I’ll forever keep him as my friend and hero. There’s nothing wrong with that.

This is the only choice.

I straighten my posture as I glance down the driveway to where James is parked, loving me madly. Loving me for who I am now.

We’ll meet Lacey and Kevin and sneak away, start over somewhere else. We’ll leave our parents, our lives. But most of all, we’ll leave the reach of The Program.

And as I walk back to the car, the pill safely tucked away in my pocket, I think that maybe Realm is wrong. That James isn’t the only troublemaker, the only one willing to take up the cause. He’s not the only one who wants to fight.

So with that thought, I begin again—thinking to myself that sometimes . . . the only real thing is now.

EPILOGUE—TWO WEEKS LATER

AT THE DOOR OF THE LEISURE ROOM, THE GIRL pauses. Her body hums from the latest round of medication and she looks wearily at the handler near the door. The Roseburg facility is crowded and loud, and the girl swallows hard and turns to the nurse next to her.

“I want to stay in my room,” she mumbles.

Nurse Kell smiles, her face filled with compassion as she brushes the girl’s strawberry-blond hair off her shoulder. “Why don’t you try and make friends, Allison? It’s good for your recovery.”

Ally scoffs. “What’s good for my recovery is going home!” Her voice is loud, and several patients and handlers look over. Ally notices a guy at the table, a pretzel stick dangling from his lips like a cigar, staring at her.

“William,” Nurse Kell says softly. “I think I may need assistance.” Her voice is curt, and when Ally notices that she’s motioned to the handler, she backs away.

“No,” Ally says quickly. “I’m sorry. I—”

“There you are, sweetness,” a voice says. Ally turns around just as the guy takes the pretzel from his mouth, looping his arm in hers. “I thought we were playing cards today?” He widens his eyes as if telling her to go along with it. Ally shoots a look at Nurse Kell, and then the guy next to her clears his throat. He glares daggers at the handler, and William backs away, raising his hands almost apologetically.

“Right,” Ally says, nodding quickly, tightening her grip on the guy’s arm. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay.” He grins. “But now you owe me.” He nods at the nurse and she rolls her eyes at him, as if he’s always doing things like this. Then the guy pulls Ally toward the table where two others sit, holding cards.

“Aw, come on!” one of the boys yells, slapping down his hand. “You’re always trying to bring in girls, Realm.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he responds. “But look how nice this one looks.” He turns and winks at Ally, pulling out a chair for her. She sits down, her heart racing at the thought of being thrown into isolation again. She wants to go home, but there doesn’t seem to be a way. This guy, though. He seems to have it figured out. He’s probably a good person to know in here.