The Remedy (The Program 0.5)(37)

“Actually . . . ,” I add. “Can you check into someone for me? I asked Aaron, but obviously he hasn’t responded.”

“Who?”

“A girl named Virginia. My mother says I hang out with her, but I can’t turn anything up. I’m not entirely sure she’s real.”

“No last name?” he asks, his interest piqued by a true mystery.

“Nope. Only said I sometimes meet her on Saturdays. Let me know if you find anything.”

“Absolutely. Okay, I’m going to get pretty,” Deacon says. “Meet you outside your window at eleven.”

I smile. “Just like old times.”

“Right?” he says. “We always were good partners.”

“We were terrible partners,” I tell him. That’s not true, but I like to torture him every so often with my denial.

“Liar,” he returns immediately. “We were good partners in every way possible.” A sense of warmth rushes over me, settling in so that my face grows hot. Deacon’s not just talking about being closers. And it’s not even about our relationship. It’s the simple fact that Deacon and I are completely and helplessly intertwined in each other’s lives. Even though he pushes me away sometimes, he pulls me in twice as hard.

“See you later,” I say, not willing to prolong the flirtation. He takes the hint and we say good-bye. I text him my address and the passwords to my accounts so he can research Virginia. Afterward, I set my phone facedown on the desk. My heart is still beating quickly, and I turn to gaze out the window. Watch the trees sway in the breeze as I get lost in a memory.

* * *

It was a week after I first met Deacon at my kitchen table that he pulled up in my father’s shiny black Cadillac, easing to the curb a few feet in front of me. He’d only gotten his permit the day I left for my assignment, but already my father was handing over the keys. I planned to reiterate the driving laws to him when I got home. Here was Deacon, perfectly on time, which annoyed me because I hadn’t quite lost the mind-set of Annabeth Trayner yet. I could have used an extra moment or two.

I tossed my bag onto the backseat and climbed in the passenger side before yanking off my wig. Although Deacon had called earlier that day to set up the extraction from my assignment, I’d hoped Marie would be the one to pick me up. I felt a little betrayed.

I grabbed my seat belt, and as I clicked it, I glanced over to find Deacon studying me, drinking me in like he’d never seen me before. When his eyes leveled on mine, there was a flutter in my chest—a feeling of being completely known, seen, memorized. Of being totally exposed.

“I brought you a candy bar,” he said simply. I stared at him, slightly confused when his mouth twitched with a smile. He nodded down at the center console to a Snickers bar, crooked and slightly melted.

“I don’t eat peanuts,” I told him.

“Noted.” He shifted the car into gear, and pulled out into the street. Despite his calm exterior, I could tell by the way he constantly checked his mirrors that he was nervous driving. I liked that quick peek into his personality, his temperament. I continued watching him, waiting for him to ask me about the assignment, but he didn’t. He didn’t say anything. My father thought Deacon would be a great partner, but so far he’d done nothing to assess my state of mind. That was neglectful.

“Aren’t you going to ask me any questions?” I finally blurted out.

“Like what? I already offered you a candy bar.” He looked over and smiled. “But you don’t like peanuts.”

“True,” I said. “But I’m talking about the assignment. The family.”

Deacon shrugged, slowing us to a stop at a red light. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. “Because you looked like you were still processing to me. Seemed unproductive to force you to discuss it before I take you somewhere where you’ll be forced to discuss it, you know?”

“What if I needed help?” I asked.

“Then I would help you.”

He said it like it was the only answer. It offered me a degree of comfort, his confidence and determination. It was a quality I admired, especially in my line of work. And so I rested back in the seat, watching him curiously as the light changed and we drove toward Marie’s apartment.

The next time he picked me up from an assignment, he was five minutes late, and in the console was a bag of Skittles.

Now I can see that Deacon had me figured out from the start. He’s brilliant that way. He can read anybody. My phone buzzes, startling me out of my thoughts, and I check the message. Deacon sent a thanks for the passwords, and I set my phone down, reminded that my real partner is out of town. Aaron ditched me. Not only is this unusual; it’s dangerous. I mean, I could contact Marie—but no one wants to bring in their advisor unless it’s an emergency. How could he abandon me like this?

I stand up from the computer and walk over to the bags of clothes I brought home from the mall. My real life is growing just as confusing as this assignment, and I hope to distract myself by trying on clothes. Ultimately, I decide I don’t love any of them. I grab the outfit my mother liked the most and slip it on before heading out to help her with dinner.

My nerves are ratcheted up at the thought of sneaking out, breaking my parents’ trust. But, ultimately, talking with Angie can help me figure out how to bring our family closure. And if I get caught, I’ll manage a believable cover story. Convincing my parents would be easy. Marie not so much. But I’d be able to explain.