This is the only choice.
I straighten my posture as I glance down the driveway to where James is parked, loving me madly. Loving me for who I am now.
We’ll meet Lacey and Kevin and sneak away, start over somewhere else. We’ll leave our parents, our lives. But most of all, we’ll leave the reach of The Program.
And as I walk back to the car, the pill safely tucked away in my pocket, I think that maybe Realm is wrong. That James isn’t the only troublemaker, the only one willing to take up the cause. He’s not the only one who wants to fight.
So with that thought, I begin again—thinking to myself that sometimes . . . the only real thing is now.
EPILOGUE—TWO WEEKS LATER
AT THE DOOR OF THE LEISURE ROOM, THE GIRL pauses. Her body hums from the latest round of medication and she looks wearily at the handler near the door. The Roseburg facility is crowded and loud, and the girl swallows hard and turns to the nurse next to her.
“I want to stay in my room,” she mumbles.
Nurse Kell smiles, her face filled with compassion as she brushes the girl’s strawberry-blond hair off her shoulder. “Why don’t you try and make friends, Allison? It’s good for your recovery.”
Ally scoffs. “What’s good for my recovery is going home!” Her voice is loud, and several patients and handlers look over. Ally notices a guy at the table, a pretzel stick dangling from his lips like a cigar, staring at her.
“William,” Nurse Kell says softly. “I think I may need assistance.” Her voice is curt, and when Ally notices that she’s motioned to the handler, she backs away.
“No,” Ally says quickly. “I’m sorry. I—”
“There you are, sweetness,” a voice says. Ally turns around just as the guy takes the pretzel from his mouth, looping his arm in hers. “I thought we were playing cards today?” He widens his eyes as if telling her to go along with it. Ally shoots a look at Nurse Kell, and then the guy next to her clears his throat. He glares daggers at the handler, and William backs away, raising his hands almost apologetically.
“Right,” Ally says, nodding quickly, tightening her grip on the guy’s arm. “Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s okay.” He grins. “But now you owe me.” He nods at the nurse and she rolls her eyes at him, as if he’s always doing things like this. Then the guy pulls Ally toward the table where two others sit, holding cards.
“Aw, come on!” one of the boys yells, slapping down his hand. “You’re always trying to bring in girls, Realm.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he responds. “But look how nice this one looks.” He turns and winks at Ally, pulling out a chair for her. She sits down, her heart racing at the thought of being thrown into isolation again. She wants to go home, but there doesn’t seem to be a way. This guy, though. He seems to have it figured out. He’s probably a good person to know in here.
Ally looks him over then. His hair is bleached blond, washing out his pale skin just a little. His eyes are a deep brown and very kind. He’s cute—not that she should really notice in a place like this. And on his neck she sees a jagged pink scar, healed, but still dramatic. She feels a pang of sympathy for him.
“What’s the game?” she asks quietly.
“Bullshit,” Realm answers. “You know it?”
“No.” Ally shakes her head.
“Hmm . . .” He looks around at the guys. “How about Asshole?”
Ally smiles, remembering how she’d taught her best friend’s little sister to play last summer. The summer before her best friend killed herself. “Yeah,” she says, lowering her head. “I know that one pretty well.”
“Realm!” A voice cuts through the leisure room, and Ally looks up, startled, to see a girl walking toward them. Her hair is a bright orange, and she seems unsteady. Ally wonders how much medication she’s on.
“Hello, Tabby,” Realm mumbles.
“You said I could play!” The girl’s voice is angry, and then she notices Ally sitting there. “How come she’s here?”
“Sorry,” Realm says, touching Tabitha’s arm. “Table’s full. Next time, okay?”
Ally considers leaving, feeling bad for shutting out this girl who clearly needs the game more than she does. When she goes to stand, she feels Realm’s hand touch hers. “Stay,” he says. His steady eyes meet hers, and she sits back down.
After the other girl is gone, Ally gnaws on her lip, feeling bad. “It’s okay,” Realm says, as if reading her thoughts. “Tabby always asks to play, but we don’t let her. She won’t mess with you, though. In fact, tomorrow she’ll be here asking all over again.” He lowers his voice, leaning his head toward hers. “QuikDeath,” he whispers. “It gave her short-term memory loss.”
“Oh.” Ally fidgets uncomfortably as Realm shuffles the cards, introducing her to Shep and Derek—saying they’ve been here two weeks and will be out in four. Same with Realm. But they look comfortable with each other, as if they’ve done this a million times.
Outside, a storm is blowing wind and rain against the windows, sounding as if the world around her is washing away. Ally has felt this way before, just today, even. Dr. Warren told her she was being difficult, that measures would have to be taken if she didn’t start cooperating. But now, watching these boys play with a sort of calmness, normalness to them, Ally wonders if maybe she can make it. If she can beat The Program.
“Your play, Sloane,” Realm says, putting another pretzel between his lips.
“Ally.” She looks sideways at him. “My name is Allison.” She notices the pained look that crosses Realm’s features, breaking his controlled expression. But then he looks at her, all smiles again.
“Sorry,” he says. “My medication cocktail must have been a little too strong today. Allison,” he continues. “Your play.”
Ally nods and puts down her next card, noticing the warning glances the other guys give Realm. Shep mouths “shut up,” but Realm doesn’t say anything back. He stares through the window at the storm outside, a faint smile on his lips.
But by the time the game is over, Ally half thinks she imagined all the tension, because the boys are laughing and calling each other ass**les. Everyone is content, almost dreamlike. Or maybe it was the pill Nurse Kell made Ally take. She can’t be sure.