30-Day Program Read online

close to the cutoff weight.

  Derrick kept bouncing the ball. “There he is. I knew you’d follow me. You ready to get your ass handed to you?”

  Gabe acted like it was no big deal. “Not today.” He lunged to steal the ball.

  Derrick spun and laughed when Gabe slammed into his back. “With those moves, this is going to get ugly.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see. I told you, it’s been a long time since I played.”

  “Oh, I believe you.” Derrick dribbled the ball a foot in front of Gabe. “You ready?”

  “I have to stop by my house first to check in.” A giant silver and black Transport rumbled down the street. The sidewalks were practically empty. There were no signs of the local gangs, no threat of having bleach thrown on his face. “Plus, I need to change.”

  “Lead the way,” Derrick said.

  “Nah, I’m all right.”

  Derrick followed anyway. “You better not be thinking of chickening out.”

  Walking with Derrick behind him let Gabe breathe a little easier. He hadn’t been out on the streets by himself since his uncle Julio’s accident left the man in a wheelchair.

  Derrick bounced the basketball off Gabe, went back to dribbling. “You’ve never opted out, have you?”

  Gabe shook his head, counted the houses that’d been torn down, the others with “Reverend’s Real Estate – Sold” signs marking their destruction. Gabe’s dad had explained how all the empty lots were the work of the Controllers. They paid beyond top dollar so The Way made an easy profit.

  Derrick stepped into the street so they were side by side. “Love what they’ve done with the neighborhood.”

  Gabe turned to him. “I thought you just moved here.”

  Derrick shook his head, his fine blond hair brushing his shoulders. “Grandparents. Mom and Dad used to bring me down every Sunday. Now it’s just me and my Gram. She’s happy to have company.”

  Gabe didn’t ask what happened to Derrick’s parents, wasn’t in the mood to hear a story like his aunt Maria’s. But he finally understood why Derrick said he recognized him.

  The next block down, they came to where the library had been before the Controllers converted it into a parking lot for their heavy equipment. Gabe’s house was just around the corner. He said, “Hey, man, you mind waiting here?”

  Derrick took a whiff of his armpit. “Come on, I want to meet your mom. Older women love me.”

  “Very funny. No, she’s already going to freak over the whole Transport deal.”

  “Whatever. But if she doesn’t want to let you out, just tell her I’ll protect you.” Derrick flexed his bicep.

  Gabe shoved him. Derrick didn’t budge. “Go for it.” Derrick dropped the ball, stopped it with his foot. “Punch for punch, chest or gut.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I’ll even let you go first. Come on.” A single bead of sweat dripped down his neck, soaked into the tank top. “You can ask it,” Derrick said. “I know you want to.”

  Gabe looked around to see if anyone was within hearing range, where the closest camera could be. “I gotta go.”

  “I know everyone’s talking about the rumor, what happened at my old school. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard it.”

  Gabe softly said, “You really do that to him?”

  “He called me a faggot so I was justified. The judge didn’t even trip, said I did the right thing.”

  Gabe was glad Derrick skipped the details. He didn’t want to know if those things were true. “Look, I really have to go.”

  “You’re coming back, right?”

  “Yeah, but it might be a few minutes.”

  Derrick dribbled the ball between his legs. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Gabe headed up to his porch, looked over the top of his house. The skies, usually gray, had gotten worse since the Blocks sprouted up.

  Gabe’s mom was already at the door, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wasn’t more than five feet two, but you could hear that voice a half-mile away. “What in the hell are you doing?” she said. “You scared me to death.”

  “Relax, Mom.” Gabe patted her shoulder when he entered the house. “I wanted to walk.”

  “I called you five times since I got the message from the Transport. You pick up when I call, do you hear me?”

  Gabe kept walking, headed toward his room. “My screen was off because of class. I didn’t turn it back on.”

  “Hey! I’m talking to you.”

  At his bedroom entrance, Gabe stopped, turned to face her. “Mom, five calls in five minutes? Really? Think you might be overreacting?”

  “No, I don’t!”

  Gabe went into his room, threw his bag on his bed, slipped off his shirt. “It’s fine, Mom. Not a big deal. I’m going to play basketball, just wanted to warm up with the walk.”

  “With who? A boy?”

  Gabe heard the fear in her voice, but didn’t look at her. He put on his Vex-Stretch t-shirt. It sucked in the small ring of fat around his waist. He said, “It’s just a guy from school.”

  “Well, who is it? You know our rule.”

  Gabe unbuckled his pants. “Do you mind?”

  She turned away but didn’t leave. “So who is it?”

  Gabe shook off his pants, took the pink card out of his envelope and placed it on his dresser, next to a black plastic bag of magazines. He pulled on his shorts and said, “A friend. Derrick, he just transferred.”

  She was looking right at him. “You’re not going anywhere until we meet him.”

  “The sun’s going down in two hours. We’re just going to play a few games of 21.” Gabe snatched the plastic bag, threw it and the girly magazines into the trash.

  “Don’t be like that. I know it can be embarrassing to buy those. Nothing to be ashamed about.”

  He pushed past her. “I don’t need them.”

  His mom shushed him, followed him into the living room and nodded at the wall screen. She kept her back to it and mouthed, “Don’t even joke.”

  Gabe smiled and said, “I’ll be back before dark.” He hated the screen, but it served a purpose. All she did was sit in front of it and watch the news, while someone watched her.

  “I didn’t say you could go. I want to meet this boy.”

  He headed for the door. “Maybe after the game.”

  “Did you take your pills?”

  “Of course, Mom. Now I have to go.”

  “You’re already on your second warning. Next time—”

  “I know! Stop, okay? I’ll be back.” One more violation meant The Program. Gabe didn’t need to be reminded of what that meant. He’d been hearing stories since he was a little boy.

  Derrick was waiting at the corner. He stopped dribbling, took a crumpled black mask from his back pocket and slipped it over his mouth. “You got one?”

  Gabe searched the light posts for a camera. “You can’t hide your face.”

  “Dude, relax, we’re not protesting anything. I’m protecting my lungs. And we’re just going to play a game.”

  Gabe wasn’t so sure that was true. “I don’t have one.”

  Derrick reached back into his pocket, pulled out another mask. He tossed it over.

  The mask was just as crumpled as the other one, but this one was grayish-white. Gabe said, “You’ve been sitting on it all day?”

  Derrick started down the street and called over his shoulder. “Yep.”

  Gabe slipped it on, smelled cheap cologne and something sour. It was weirdly intoxicating.

  Derrick slowed down so they were back side-by-side, a slow dribble that blended in with each step. “So your mom trip on you? You seem kind of pissed.”

  Gabe bit the inside of his cheek, then lunged for the ball. Derrick crossed it over to his other hand.

  Derrick said, “You guys losing the house?”

  “Not yet, it’s not in foreclosure. I hear them talk all the time, though, how much they’re behind, how much they’ve been offered. But my dad won’t take
it, says it’s not enough.”

  Derrick said, “What about heading for the Hills, working for one of the families?”

  “My dad would never move into a Block. He’d die first.”

  Derrick turned down a dark road. Gabe hadn’t been on it in a very long time. “I thought we were headed to the Rec Zone?”

  “That place is crawling with Controllers.”

  Harrow Park was just down the hill. It’d fallen into disrepair. Thick brush crept onto the paths. Dying branches hung over the rusty playground. Strands of ivy covered the fences around the courts, turning them into secluded caves. A few men hung around the baseball dugout, another two by the bathrooms. Gabe thought about bleach attacks, he asked about criminals.

  “Stop worrying. I told you, I’ll protect you.”

  “We shouldn’t be down here.” The men were all fit, muscles showing under tight shirts, but no one seemed to be here for sports.

  Derrick opened a small gate and slipped onto the basketball court. The sun filtered through the ivy. It was private, but not as dark as Gabe had imagined. The sky was still bright and gray above.

  “We try to keep it clean,” Derrick said.

  Gabe noticed a condom wrapper in the corner.

  “Full court or half?” Derrick asked and took off his shirt.

  “We only have until dark.”

  “That only gives me an hour or so to kick your ass.” Derrick chucked the ball. The sharp sting of it slapped against Gabe’s palms. Derrick’s bright blue eyes pierced through him. He crouched down defensively. Gabe dribbled, angled his body to block Derrick from the ball. He tried to move right. Derrick cut him off, forced him left, Gabe’s weakest hand. Derrick whispered, “Come on, faggot.”

  The words seared through Gabe’s mind. He dribbled faster.

  “You can’t beat me, faggot.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Why, faggot?”

  All it took was a rumor to get you put into The Program, and Gabe already had two warnings. Anyone could be listening: undercover cops, Controller camp kids, snitches sent in as lures. Maybe that’s what Derrick was? Gabe glanced up, expected to see a closed-circuit camera in the sky or hidden in the ivy.

  Derrick whispered again. “Faggot.”

  Gabe picked up his dribble. Derrick smacked the ball out of his hands, pinned Gabe against the fence, slowly pulled down Gabe’s mask.

  Derrick said, “What about me? You think I’m a faggot?”

  Gabe wanted to run or throw a punch. Why weren’t his pills kicking in? Derrick’s face was so close to his.

  Gabe’s voice trembled when he said, “Please.”

  Derrick took off his own mask, leaned in, the cologne and sweat so strong. Their lips pressed. Gabe closed his eyes. All the dreams, the fantasies he’d blocked out coming true. He opened his mouth, kissed back, rough but gentle and frightened.

  A man shouted, “Shit! Controllers!”

  Gabe pulled away, his lips still burning.

  Derrick peered through the ivy. “Oh no.”

  Gabe rushed next to him. Four patrol cars. Two men being tackled next to the bathrooms.

  A young Controller stepped onto the court. He had a perfectly plastered part in his blond hair, his jaw clenching like he’d been waiting all morning to crack someone’s skull. “Well, what the fuck do we have here?”

  Derrick stepped in front of Gabe. “We’re just playing basketball.”

  “Yeah, right.” The Controller ignored his electro prod, went straight for his plasma baton, the blue pulsing current flowing up and down the wand.

  Derrick threw up his hands. “Hey, man, we don’t want any trouble. We’re just playing a game.”

  The Controller’s fingers tightened around the handle. Derrick clenched his fists. Gabe knew what was going to happen, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t reach out to pull him back. Derrick lowered his shoulder and charged at the Controller, who raised the plasma baton. Derrick beat the blow and tackled the Controller. They rolled over and over until Gabe heard the crackling of burning flesh, the Controller’s scream. Derrick pressed the blue pulse to the man’s neck. Gabe closed his eyes, the sizzle echoing in his ears.

  “Go!” Derrick said to Gabe.

  Gabe couldn’t look away from the gaping black ditch in the Controller’s throat. “W-what