“Oh.” I honestly didn’t know that Kevin drove by my house, and it makes me a bit uneasy. “So what do you think they’ll do if they see us together?”

“Nothing. What are they going to do—spank us?” He chuckles.

“They could put us back in—”

“Sloane,” James interrupts. “Are you hungry? Maybe we could hit Denny’s or something. I like pancakes.”

“People will see us at Denny’s,” I answer quietly.

“Right, good point.” He turns to smile at me, but it seems strained, as if his confidence is just an act. “McDonald’s drive-through?”

“Why did you really offer me a ride home?” I ask, my curiosity too much. James has ignored me since standing up for me at the Wellness Center, and now he’s talking to me. Driving me around.

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Then why did you—”

“I really don’t know. I don’t want friends, Sloane. I just want to graduate and get the hell out of here.” He exhales, staring out the windshield. “And then you show up, watching me with your big brown eyes. Looking at me like you know me.”

“I don’t know you.”

“And I don’t know you. So why did I care that that ass**le was being mean to you outside on the patio that night? Why have I worried about you since? Can you explain it?” He sounds frustrated, and I realize that he has the same conflicting feelings that I do. Emotions that are there, but without cause. Feelings that aren’t attached to memories and therefore meaningless. I’m suddenly scared and think about James being high-risk.

“I’m on Hillsdale Drive,” I murmur. “You passed my street a while back.”

James makes a sound like he’s about to say something, but instead he makes a hard U-turn and drives us back in the direction of my house. He doesn’t talk, and the tension grows. A pain starts to work through my body, a dread. An ache. I want to get far away from James Murphy because I think he may be the cause of it. I feel . . . sick.

When he stops in front of my driveway, I move quickly to get out. I toss back a thank-you and hurry toward my front door, glad my parents aren’t home to see me so flustered. When I get on the porch, I glance over my shoulder. The car is still there, James is talking to himself and looking pissed. I pause right where I am as I watch him wipe roughly at his cheek and pull away.

CHAPTER SIX

“SO I KNOW YOU AND JAMES AREN’T AT ALL INTO each other,” Lacey says, biting into her cupcake as she sits across from me in the cafeteria. “But he’s been watching you this entire time. I might start feeling bad for him if you don’t at least acknowledge him.”

I don’t, keeping my back to his end of the cafeteria as I eat my lunch. James makes me self-conscious. His shifts between flirting and avoiding me are stirring up emotions I don’t understand. And I don’t want to get sick again.

“Okay,” Lacey says when I don’t answer. “I’m just saying the more you ignore him, the more I’m convinced you’re in love with the guy. And he looks positively pathetic today.”

“He does not. And I don’t even know him, so how can I love him?”

Lacey smiles as if I just told her that I want to marry him and have his blond-headed babies. “Well, whatever you’re doing,” she says, “you’re messing him up hardcore.”

I worry suddenly that she’s right. What if by talking to him I started some chain reaction of events? What if we get infected again because of me?

I put my chin on my shoulder and look back at James. When I do, he straightens. He holds my stare in a way that pins me in place until I hear Lacey calling my name, making me turn around.

“Oh, Lord,” she mumbles. “This is not going to end well.”

“Let’s just drop it.”

“Fine.” She holds up her hands as if I’m a lost cause. “I do have something for you though.”

This peaks my interest. “Yeah?”

“It’s a little trick I learned a few weeks into my return.” With a cautious glance at Kevin, she reaches down to take something from her backpack. She taps my knee as she passes it to me under the table.

“What is it?” I ask, bringing it onto my lap to look it over. It’s a small pad of paper with the name of the school psychologist at the top. The entire pad has been filled out with his signature, requiring only the date and time. I look across the table at Lacey, my eyes wide.

“If you need some time off,” she whispers. “Just fill it in and give it to your teacher. They never check. They expect us to be in therapy—they definitely don’t expect us to skip. We’re the good ones, remember? Sorry that I’ve used up half the passes already.” When I look at her questioningly, she shrugs. “What? How did you think I found the time to sample so many flavors?”

I laugh, thinking about Lacey sneaking around school, making out with guys behind the building or in the custodian’s closet. And then, completely not meaning to, I take another look back at James. And he smiles.

“Not interested at all,” Lacey says offhandedly. “So sure.”

• • •

I don’t waste any time using the pass. It’s like having the key to an intricate lock right there in your pocket. Before my final class, I fill one out and then pause at the entryway, trying not to give myself away. After a deep breath, I turn to Kevin.

“I actually have a session with Mr. Andrews,” I say, motioning back toward the office. “It’ll probably last through the end of the day.”

Kevin glances at his watch and then nods. “I’ll walk you there.”

I smile as my heart explodes with panic in my chest. “Oh. Sure. Okay.” Kevin waits as I show my teacher the fake pass, letting him mark me as present in the roster. Then he dismisses me.

I don’t talk as Kevin and I head down the empty hall toward the office. I don’t know what I was thinking. My handler is going to see that I don’t have a session, and then he’s going to check the pass. I’m going to get so busted. I don’t think he’ll be able to ignore this, no matter what sort of favor he’s doing for Realm.

And where will I tell him I got it from? I won’t turn Lacey in. They can put me back in The Program if they have to.

The Program. An acute sense of dread slips over me, and I consider confessing to Kevin that I don’t have a session; asking him not to turn me in. But that would just be stupid. I have to ride this out, and if that fails, deny, deny, deny.




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