The Program Page 0,59

back my hair. “Sloane . . .” He pauses. “No one hurt you, did they?” His voice is filled with concern, and I think he’s talking about Roger, but I can’t tell him about the pill. About the kiss.

“No,” I lie. “I just didn’t think you were coming back.” I slowly release him and lie back down in my bed, glad he’s here.

“You should sleep,” Realm whispers. “Meet you for breakfast?”

I nod, smiling. “Maybe they’ll have waffles.”

He laughs. “If not, I’ll find you some.”

I curl up on my side as he fixes my blankets. “You probably would.” I watch as he leaves, quietly closing the door behind him. Seeing him again is like a huge weight lifted off my chest. Even though I know I was upset earlier, I can’t remember why. I’m just glad my friend is back.

• • •

The next morning. Realm is waiting at my table, looking fresh in a pair of new lemon-yellow scrubs. His hair is still wet and brushed back, making him look younger somehow. Paired with his black eye, it’s almost adorable.

“It’s not waffles,” he says, as if expecting me to be disappointed. “But I filled out a suggestion card, so hopefully tomorrow.”

I laugh and sit next to him, not bothering to get my food yet. “Did you get that shiner from the handler?” I ask, leaning to look at it. Realm watches me as I examine him, a sad expression on his face.

“Roger got an elbow in,” he says quietly. “But I nearly choked him to death, so it’s about even.”

I tense and turn away, wishing I hadn’t let Roger touch me, but knowing that I got to keep a piece of myself in return. Or at least I hope.

“What?” Realm asks.

“Nothing,” I murmur. “I’m just hungry.” I get up and walk to the food line.

• • •

I’m at the end of my third week, and I continue to refuse my pills. I almost wish I didn’t know what the medication did to me so I wouldn’t have to have this battle every day. But I do know. And I want to fight.

After a therapy session and a fresh injection, I’m halfway back to my room when he walks into the hall.

“Hello, Sloane,” Roger says. “Sorry I haven’t been around. Been spending a lot of time at your new school.”

At the sound of his voice, goose bumps raise on my arms. “Leave me alone,” I say, my words slightly slurred.

“Don’t you want you know why?”

I turn to look at him as his dark hair falls over his eyes. “No.”

“Does the name James Murphy sound familiar?” he asks.

I gasp and stop walking, steadying myself on the wall. James is my boyfriend, or at least he was until he went into The Program. He’d been friends with Miller—and before that . . . What? Who was James before that?

I press the heel of my hand against my forehead. I can’t remember.

“Seems James is being difficult. No wonder you two were together for so long. You’re a couple of troublemakers.” Roger laughs, and I want to lunge at him and scratch out his eyes.

“Is he okay?” I ask.

Roger nods. “He’s fine. Just a pain in the ass. He’s always testing his handlers, slipping away. He’s lucky he’ll be eighteen soon, otherwise he might end up back here.”

James is okay. I smile and lean against the wall.

“You know, Sloane,” Roger whispers, walking to stand close to me. “After another session or two, James will be gone from your memory altogether.”

“Shut up,” I say, squeezing my eyes closed when his fingers brush my bare arm.

“I told you the price and I think it’s fair. What do you say?” He leans closer, his peppermint breath on my ear. His finger glides up my arm and onto my shirt, grazing the side of my breast.

The room is tilting from my medication, but I’m trying to hold on. I don’t want to be this vulnerable around him. I don’t want his disgusting hands on me. “No,” I snarl.

“Hmm . . . ,” he says, and loops his arm around my waist, putting my head against his shoulder. “Maybe I should help you to your room.”

I try to pull away and nearly fall when I hear a shout from down the hall. “Hey, Rog,” Realm says, his hands in the pockets of his yellow scrubs. “Looks like you might need some help.”

Instead of responding, Roger lays me down on the floor, backing away. “Wasn’t doing anything wrong, Michael,” he responds.

“Is that