Finding Forever (28 page)

Brooklyn sat on her bed and slid on her sneakers. “Holden, I really can't get into this right now. We can talk in the car, I promise. But it's almost five o'clock and we've got to get going. I swear I'll be extra careful.”

“No. I can't be a part of this. It's too risky, and my mom and dad would kill me. Sorry, but I can't.”

Brooklyn tied her last sneaker lace tightly and stood up. She walked to her closet and pulled out her favorite red-and-black flannel shirt. “Okay, fine. Don't go with me. You're right. It's not the safe thing. But I know someone who's not afraid.”

Holden made the palms-out stop sign with both his hands. “Don't. Please. Do not call
her
.”

Brooklyn placed the call. She waited a few seconds for it to connect.

“Hey, Tamara!” she said brightly. “Wanna go to L.A.?”

Fifteen rules. Taylor studied the list after Peter left her alone in her room to memorize it.

Some of the rules seemed reasonable, the kinds of things a health-conscious person would appreciate. She could not, for example, argue it was bad to stay out of the sun (her mom had preached sunscreen her entire childhood in Arizona), take a daily aspirin, eat healthy, sleep well, and abstain from smoking or doing drugs. But she thought the stuff about not having sex (even though she wasn't active herself at the moment), sharing “traumas” with staff, submitting to “IV therapy,” and, oh, following the Program
for life
sounded straight out of some kind of freakish cult.

“Is this, like, a religion or something?” Taylor asked Peter when he returned a while later.

Peter laughed. “No, no, no, my dear. Religion is for the ignorant. The Program is for the intelligent and informed.”

“Good,” Taylor said. “I thought for a second this was a cult or something.”

“Religion is the product of ancient fantasy and myth. Those who practice religion put faith in entirely unproven concepts, yet they convince themselves it will bring them enlightenment, or salvation, or deliver them to some afterlife and grant them immortality. My years of research show that the only way we as a species can approach anything close to immortality is by simply doing the Work.”

Taylor nodded, not in agreement but in fear.

“The one thing these religions have in common is that they were all drummed up well before scientific discovery began.” Peter sat in an armchair across from Taylor. “I realize that the
last few days have been quite a whirlwind for you, and that you've probably been trying to determine exactly what has happened to you, and whether you can trust me. But I'm here to tell you that the only person you need to trust is yourself. If you do, the Program will bring you more reward than any religion ever could. Certainly more than any movie career could.”

Taylor studied Peter's angular face. His skin glowed with the kind of taut sheen that could only have been achieved through surgery. “You're right,” she lied. “I have to admit, I don't disagree with anything you've just said.”

“That's because you're an actor. All great actors understand that the foundation of any great performance is letting yourself trust. Acting is a give-and-take dynamic. It requires a tremendous amount of comfort and trust in those you're working with, in the material given to you, and in the character you're playing. Wouldn't you agree?”

“I do,” she said. “Actually, my first ever acting coach used to say the same thing. We spent the first week focused only on trust exercises. Falling backward into someone's arms, sharing an embarrassing secret with another student, walking blindfolded down a sidewalk with only someone's voice as a guide. I know what you're saying.”

“So then you have unlocked the secret.”

“I don't know if I would go that far, but I'm definitely committed to always trying to be a better actor.”

“Some say the only actors who listen are the ones who are heard. A good actor listens to himself, to his co-performers, to his heart, to his teacher. Same goes for life. A fulfilled life is just the end result of a dedication to listening.”

“How do you know so much about acting?”

Peter grinned. “Just between us?”

“Sure.”

“It's not something I go and tell my patients. But I was once
a child actor. A long, long time ago.”

“Wow, and now you're a doctor. Impressive.”

“Let's just say it's been quite an interesting journey.”

“I'm sorry, but how old are you?”

“Old enough to know that I could be your father, who, by the way, could have used the Program.”