The Remedy (The Program 0.5)(70)

“Uh . . .” I can’t recall reading or seeing anything about this shirt. Truth is, I picked it because it was the most comfortable one I could find in the drawer. “Nope. I forgot,” I say sweetly, stepping in to him and draping my arms over his shoulders. His hair is still wet from the showers, and the smell of soap is thick around him. Isaac doesn’t smile, though. Confusion clouds his face.

“We went to that show,” he explains, talking faster. “You wanted that T-shirt, Catalina. That exact one. You pointed it out on another girl and I bought the f*cking shirt straight off her body so that you could have it. I can’t believe you could forget about that.”

I lower my arms and take a step back; dread coils in my stomach. I don’t know how I got this shirt because it didn’t happen to me. He knows this. “Isaac,” I say, keeping my tone steady, “I don’t remember.”

“Yes, you do!” he shouts, making me jump. A couple of people leaving the game look over at the sound of his raised voice.

“Hey!” I snap at Isaac, startled by his frustration. Heat rushes to my face and tears sting my eyes. I understand the unusual circumstances of our relationship, I really do. But I’m not going to stand here in the school parking lot while he yells at me in front of strangers. I won’t let him shatter this illusion.

“I’m going home,” I say, and round the hood of the truck. My mom dropped me off earlier and now I’ll have to call her back for a ride. I need to get out of here. My mind is racing, flipping between my training and the life I’ve been living. The lines have blurred. I need a moment to think, but my heart aches with jealousy and clouds my judgment. I’m sick of competing with a dead girl.

Isaac runs up, stopping a few steps ahead of me and holding out his hands to slow me down. When I pause, he studies my face for a long moment before reaching out to touch my cheek. The touch, the affection, eases the pain in my chest.

“I’m sorry,” he says desperately. His eyes have softened, painting his features in misery at the thought of me leaving him. “I’m just a little off today,” he says, his fingers sliding to the back of my neck as he stares down at me adoringly. I exhale as his thumb strokes over my skin. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, stepping closer.

“You can’t talk to me like that,” I tell him. “You can’t just hurt my feelings whenever you want.”

“I don’t want to,” he says immediately. He wraps his arms around me, and I listen to the fast beating of his heart. “I don’t ever want to hurt you,” Isaac murmurs close to my ear. “You’re the love of my life.”

A shiver runs down my body, and I smile. The idea of him loving me, saying that he loves me, is enough to keep me here—in this present—with him. The rest of me falls away—all of my sense, all of my worry—leaving me completely vulnerable.

We stay wrapped up in each other, and Isaac tells me again how much he loves me. I don’t say it back, content enough with hearing it. And after a while Isaac and I go to his truck to continue our night, gluing the pieces of us back together, ignoring the hairline fractures we can’t quite cover.

CHAPTER FIVE

ISAAC SUGGESTS WE GO TO Off Campus to grab a bite to eat. It’s a small café where students go to order fries or smoke cigarettes on the front patio. I spend the drive listening to him recount the game, pitch by pitch, all the way to the final out that snapped their three-game winning streak. When he’s done talking, he intertwines his fingers with mine and pulls my hand to his mouth, where he kisses it sweetly—our earlier fight far from his mind. But not entirely from mine.

A headache has started behind my eyes, a dull thud that keeps me from being completely engaged in our conversation. During dinner, I nod and smile in just the right places, but Isaac’s frustration resonates with me, making the night a bit surreal. I shake it off before we leave, and press my lips into a smile as he puts his arm around me in the parking lot and kisses the top of my head.

On the way home, Isaac gets a call from Jason. I can hear Jason’s booming voice, boisterous and loud, as he asks Isaac to come over for a card game. Isaac hesitates, glancing over at me like he’d rather spend the night just the two of us. I, however, nod emphatically. Hanging out with Jason has been a blast—times that have made me feel completely normal. And I’m craving a moment of that normalcy right now.

Isaac smiles at my excitement and agrees, telling Jason he’s on his way. When he hangs up the phone, I lean in and give Isaac a kiss on the lips, distracting him while he drives. He laughs, trying to keep his eyes on the road as I kiss him again, my hand on his thigh. I’ve missed him, even though he’s been right here.

* * *

There are a few cars in front of Jason’s house, and Isaac parks halfway down the street at the curb. The remainder of the light has faded beneath a gray cloud-scattered night sky. We’re reminiscing about the batting cages when Isaac and I climb the porch steps.

Isaac knocks on the front door before opening it partly and calling in our arrival. He pokes his head in and says hey, pushing open the door the rest of the way for me. I’m smiling, comforted by a less crowded version of Jason’s house. There is a round table set up in the living room, three guys sitting around. I recognize at least two of them from the party last week.

“Hey,” I call to Jason, holding up my hand in a wave. There’s only one empty chair at the table, and I glance around at the faces of the other guys. It only takes a second for me to register that something’s wrong. Isaac’s already on his way over to them to slap hands, completely oblivious.