The Remedy (The Program 0.5)(61)

Despite the cool breeze, sweat trickles down my back, but it feels good. The dampness on my skin is purifying. There’s a touch at my hip, and my eyes flutter open. Isaac is closer now, moving with the music, but looking down at my body, his fingers digging into my skin as he pulls me closer to match up our movements.

The song is echoing in my ears, and then Isaac’s other hand is at the hem of my shirt, his fingers occasionally making contact with my skin beneath, setting me on fire. My eyes close again, drawn in by the heat, the touch, the sounds. I reach to rest my arms over his shoulders, and he lowers his head so that his mouth is near my ear. I feel his breath, and an ache starts in my stomach. I’m absolutely seduced by the moment, lost in a haze of desire and want. I thread my fingers through Isaac’s short hair, and he makes a soft sound of approval, his body pressing into mine.

But then the song ends. The next one has a faster tempo, and the people around us call out for Jason to turn it up. Isaac and I take a step back from each other, his hands falling away from me. I lift my eyes to his, feeling breathless. His skin is flushed, his eyes slightly narrowed as he licks his lips and glances over my entire person. I want to kiss him.

The front door opens, and a cold breeze blows into the room. Isaac looks toward the doorway and his expression tightens. He turns quickly and takes my hand. “We should go,” he says.

Confused, I glance at the doorway and find a girl standing there. I’m immediately hit with a streak of jealousy—but then I recognize her. My heart just about stops. Isaac leans in to whisper.

“That’s Kyle,” he says. “Believe me when I say that you don’t want to run into her. Especially not with me.” I look up at him and he presses his lips together as if to remind me that I’m not really Catalina. To remind me that others hate me for just that reason. Instead of appreciating his warning, I’m saddened. My mood takes a dark turn, and I pull my hand from his. That thing.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I say, unable to control my behavior. I’m the opposite of professional right now, but I’m annoyed. Upset that I had to break the illusion—I liked it. I was completely lost in it, and it felt good. And I haven’t had good in a long time.

Isaac is wounded by my sudden change, and I see him actually consider telling me to stay. But he’s right—the last thing I need right now is an altercation in front of all of his friends. That’s not beneficial to his recovery, and certainly not to my self-esteem. I step forward, put my hand on his arm, and try to smile an apology. He exhales, relieved, and then tosses one more cautious glance toward the door.

At that moment Kyle catches sight of him and her face lights up. She lifts her arm in the start of a wave, but Isaac quickly turns and grabs me to pull me through the crowd in the opposite direction. I’m surprised, but I move with him. At the entrance to the kitchen, I turn back and find Kyle staring dead at me, her mouth open in stunned horror.

I swing back around, and Isaac and I rush out the back door without a word to anybody, fleeing in our desire to be together.

* * *

We sit in his parked truck, a block down from the party. The heat from the vent is blowing over me, but the chill of the night air clings to my skin. I want to regret what just happened inside, regret dancing so closely. Instead I regret that it had to end. Tonight I don’t want to be a closer anymore. I want to be real.

I look at Isaac and find him staring out the window, his arms hanging at his sides listlessly. Seeing Kyle affected him, made reality crash back down. He remembers that I’m supposed to be dead, that he’s supposed to be missing me. But how can he miss me when I’m still right here?

“You okay?” I ask, my head clearing slightly from concern. My training tries to flood back, but it’s still foggy and hard to grasp in this moment.

Isaac swallows hard. “I didn’t know Kyle would be there tonight,” he says. “She hasn’t been around much since you . . .” He doesn’t finish the sentence. “She introduced us,” he continues, sounding a bit nostalgic. “I’ve known her since I was a kid; our parents are friends. After you guys started hanging out, she’d drop subtle hints. And the minute I was single, she did everything she could to pair us up.”

I twist my leg underneath me and turn to him completely, wanting to hear more of his story. Hear more about us. He looks at me, his eyes weakening as he studies me.

“You’re so perfect tonight,” he says, his voice low and sad. “I didn’t want it to end.”

There’s a flutter in my chest, and the moment deepens—the energy between us pulling us closer. “Neither did I,” I murmur.

He shifts his body, leaning his shoulder into his seat like I’m taking up all of his attention. “Do you remember,” he starts hesitantly, “the first time I kissed you?” My stomach flips, and I can actually feel my hands start to shake. Isaac’s words are filled with pain, though, pain and resolve. Like he knows he shouldn’t bring it up but can’t help himself.

“Yes,” I answer. It’s not a lie, really. It was in the journal. It was detailed; I know every thought that went through my mind, every smile, every butterfly. “You were supposed to be at practice,” I tell him, recalling the entry word for word. “But you showed up at Off Campus, right when I was fighting with Kyle. You sat across the room.”

Isaac’s forehead creases as he tries to hold back the emotions. The memory is coated in pain, but he wants it. He wants to feel it.