“Don’t,” I whisper, hating that he blames himself.
“And so you broke up with her,” Foster continues brightly, and holds out his fist for Nathan to bump; he does. “But she’s still around. At least for a little bit?”
“I guess,” Nathan says.
“But I can’t tell Arturo?” Foster wants to know.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Nathan says. “I just want her to go away. I don’t want to answer questions or have people wonder if I was somehow in with a handler.”
“You were in with a handler,” Foster says, taking a sip of his coffee. I kick him under the table, and he apologizes.
“Look,” Foster says, pushing aside his plate and leaning into the table. “It’s not your fault, Nathan. I seriously shouldn’t even have to tell you that. You’re one of the most decent guys I’ve ever met, and I fucking love you. But Jana sucked. She always did. Now, we’re going to expunge her from the record, and push ahead. Correct?”
I can see Nathan wants to blame himself anyway, but he nods that it’s time for us to move on.
“The real Jana Simms died last year,” Nathan says. “And I never knew her. So let’s just leave it at that.”
“Done,” Foster replies easily. But the moment is dark. Morbid and heavy.
My phone buzzes with a message, and I check it. I sigh heavily, and Foster peeks over to read the text.
Seriously,Wes texts.Please call me back.
I look up and meet Foster’s eyes, and he motions to the phone on the table. “Seems to be going well,” he says sarcastically. “And we should note that I saw Wes at school before I left, and he’s at once the most adorable and saddest thing I’ve ever seen. Am I wrong to assume that has to do with you?”
“Not on purpose,” I say, lowering my eyes.
“Uh... didn’t you sleep over his house, like, two days ago?” Foster asks.
“Right?” Nathan laughs and reaches over to take a piece of bacon off Foster’s discarded plate. Foster smiles, as if reassured now that Nathan is eating again.
“Yes, I did sleep there,” I say. “But nothing happened. Wes and I aren’t getting back together. In fact, I told him that we never dated—that we were just friends.”
“That was dumb. And kind of fucking mean,” Foster adds, partially under his breath.
“Yeah, well, in case you forgot,” I say, “I killed someone yesterday.”
“You didn’t kill him,” Nathan says immediately.
“Okay,” I admit. “But I’m still theirproof of concept,whatever that is. I’m like, the last person Wes should talk to.”
“You are definitely a bit of a mess right now,” Foster agrees. “But that’s exactly why you shouldn’t cut him completely out of your life. You have a history together. You don’t have to burn the entire bridge, Tatum. You might still need to cross it.”
“You don’t understand,” I say, guilty. “He can’t be with me. I... I broke up with him. Last year, before he met Kyle, I broke up with Wes. I told him to see other people.”
Foster tilts his head, confused, and Nathan leans his elbows on the table.
“I had a crashback,” I confess to them. “And I saw it all. What I did, said. How I hurt him. It’s my fault.”
“What?” Nathan says, shaking his head. “Wait... seriously, what? This changes everything. Your entire history. How could you—?” He stops himself from asking how I could forget something like this, wincing slightly.
“I thought I was protecting him,” I say. “Protecting us from me. Instead, I made him sick.”
“You told him to see other people,” Foster corrects. “He did. You didn’t force him to do anything, Tatum.”
“But then I wanted him back,” I explain.
“Uh-huh,” Foster says. “And that happens in regular relationships that aren’t being manipulated by the fuckingProgram. The way I see it,” he says, “you’re doing more damage now. He’s better. You’re better. Why lie to him? It’s going to mess him up.”
