Page 21 of The Restoration Program
The special seat was provided by the Restoration Program, of course, who seemed to have planned everything down to the last detail. But no matter how much they attempted to keep NüPrint dignity in mind when crafting modifications, Nicole felt like she was tucked into a child’s car seat.
“There’s a Harry’s just off the next exit,” Nicole said as the sign flew through her view. “It’s not too late to turn around. We could grab fries and milkshakes instead.”
Ryan heaved a dramatic groan. “You know I’m weak for a cookies-and-cream milkshake.”
“Give in. You know you want to.”
He laughed, but the car didn’t slow, and she resigned her gaze back to the clouds.
“It’s barely been a week,” she said. “Feels like even less. I don’t think I can share in a group whenIdon’t understand what I’m feeling.”
Not to mention the butterflies in her stomach that came with the idea of meeting another person her size. She half-expected they would arrive at an empty room at the Restoration Facility—a cruel punchline to the world’s most bizarre joke.
Ryan gave a thoughtful hum. “Maybe we don’t have to participate much at first. We can just take it in like a pair of forum lurkers.”
“Hard to lurk if they canseeus, babe.” She glanced between the GPS screen and the window, drumming her fingers on her lap. Their two-hour drive was nearly at a close. “Why couldn’t they start us off easy with a video call, or something? Isn’t this too much too soon?”
“Hey. Dr. Jenning swears up and down that these meetings do wonders for adjustment. You’ll get to see for yourself that you’re not alone with this procedure. Besides, you’ve been cooped up in the apartment long enough.”
When the gates of Fairbourne Restoration Facility B came into view, the first thing Nicole noticed was the guns. Four guards stood outside, making the Facility look like a fortress preparing for attack. She hadn’t noticed them on her way out over a week ago, considering she’d kept her head down the entire ride home. She adopted the same posture now as they pulled up to the security booth manned by a severe-looking officer. Ryan let the window down, and Nicole’s fingernails dug into her palms. She watched in her peripherals as Ryan’s ID was checked. To her relief, the sight of her sitting up on her throne was enough evidence to prove she belonged there.
The gate crawled open without a hitch. One of the guards waved them through with his gun.
“We’re totally getting milkshakes on the way home,” Ryan muttered.
The car pulled to a stop in a parking space and shut off, a jarring silence replacing the rumble of the engine. There were more cars in the parking lot than when Nicole had been released. Pursing her lips, she took her time unbuckling the strap around her waist. She ran her hands through her hair and took a breath to gather herself.
“Nicki,” Ryan said. She looked up to find him staring at her with an expression as soft as his voice. “This’ll be good for you. For both of us. The least we can do is give it a try. If other people can adjust to this, then why not us? Right?”
Some of the tightness in her chest unwound. If that brochure was to be believed, there was a growing number of people just like her. Some of them were waiting right behind those slate walls. “Why not us?” she echoed. “Let’s show them up, then.”
Ryan gave a little chuckle as he offered the carrying tray for her to climb onto. “I’ll follow your lead.”
It still took her a minute to steel herself before he got out of the vehicle, but she could still feel the utter care he put into every movement. It dawned on her how exhausting that must be—perhaps as exhausting as it was toflinchfrom each one of those careful movements.
Still, she glanced over her shoulder at him and mustered a smile. They were in this together.
Her bluffed courage vanished the moment Ryan strode through the automatic doors. The sterile smell flooded her nostrils, and she remembered the nightmare of waking up in this new body. The monstrous silhouettes of the scientists leering down at her.
She steeled her shoulders as Ryan consulted a digital map, forcing the imagery from her mind. This couldn’t be worse than waking up in a fake hospital room.
“Are you here for the support group?” A female voice cut across the lobby, catching in the wide space.
Ryan turned, Nicole’s stomach somersaulting from the swift motion as he approached a woman sitting at a central reception desk. A plate of plexiglass separated them, but it oddly didn’t seem to muffle her voice in the slightest.
“The map they emailed us looks a little different,” Ryan explained sheepishly.
“Not a problem. I’ll get you checked in with visitor tags, then you’ll be all set. Second door down that hall there,” she said, gesturing toward a doorway hugged by two lush potted ferns.
The receptionist scarcely glanced at her computer screen before recognition clicked. Of course the staff here would have been trained on their most recent multi-million dollar investment. “Nicole Zhou and Ryan Northe, correct?”
Her eyes dropped to acknowledge Nicole, who forgot how to breathe. Nicole’s body seized, feeling far too exposed on the tray. An awkward silence spanned before Ryan graciously answered for the both of them.
“That’s us, yeah,” he said.
“Wonderful. I need a digital signature from you both on a few more high-level consent forms, then you’ll be all set for future visits. Next time, you can simply swipe your badges over that sensor by the entrance—” She paused, gesturing at a slender, waist-high device that Nicole hadn’t noticed before. “—andvoila.”
The employee slid a tablet beneath the plexiglass barrier, manicured nails motioning where each party should sign. Ryan briefly lowered the carrying tray to the counter, leaning close to skim the agreement. Nicole was grateful for his scrutiny; she couldn’t focus on the words while her heart still hammered like a panicked drum.
