Revived (Cat Patrick)

done secretly. They can take years, often decades.” I pause, giving myself one final out. Then I just say it: “I’m part of one of those programs.”
    “Cool. What’s it for?” Matt asks without skipping a beat. The look on his face is so… excited. I wait a moment before continuing, holding on to that look for as long as I can. I feel like I’m about to crush him, but how can I keep hanging out with him if he doesn’t know the real me?
    “It’s a drug called Revive,” I say finally. “It brings people back from the dead.” Matt’s brows pinch together in confusion. “I died when I was four years old,” I clarify. “The drug brought me back to life.”
    “That’s… Are you messing with me?” Matt asks.
    “No,” I say seriously.
    Matt’s eyes look playful as they search mine for a trace of teasing. When he finds none, his expression becomes somber.
    “How did you die?” he asks, concerned.
    “I was in a school-bus crash in Iowa,” I say. “The bus skidded off a bridge into a lake.”
    I can practically see the wheels turning in Matt’s brain.
    “Not the one they made the miniseries about?” he asks, taking it in.
    I nod.
    “So…” he begins, the pieces clicking together for him. His eyebrows knit tighter and he shifts in his chair a little. After a few moments of puzzling, Matt asks what I’ve been waiting for him to ask: “Audrey?”
    He says only her name, not daring to speak the rest.
    I shake my head, not wanting to go there at all. But I realize that I have to.
    “It’s not…” I say, my voice trailing off. I regroup and try again. “It doesn’t work on people with diseases or really serious injuries. It can’t regrow damaged tissue. It’s more like an electric pulse to your entire system at once. It shocks you back to life from the inside out. Revive can’t help bodies that weren’t healthy when the person died.”
    Visibly processing the information, Matt says, “That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard.” He’s borderline monotone, distracted, looking from me to the desk to the walls and back, searching for answers. He swallows hard; I think he’s shell-shocked.
    “I know.”
    “And… I don’t… I mean, I’m not sure if I even want to know about this,” he admits. He fidgets, then wipes his palms on his pants. “I mean, what am I supposed to do with this stuff? If it can’t do anything for Audrey, I mean, what good is me knowing about it? It’s not really fair.” Matt stops talking and looks down at his hands. The sadness in his eyes makes me wonder if I’ve done the right thing.
    “I’m sorry for telling you,” I say, a little hurt that he doesn’t understand why I did it. “I just thought… Well, I wanted to give you something. Like a part of me. I felt like I wanted you to know the real me. But I understand why you don’t want to know about Revive.”
    “No, I get that,” Matt says, his eyes softening when he looks up and meets my gaze. “It’s just that I’m conflicted, you know? I want to get to know you, but it’s hard hearing about something like this without thinking about Audrey. Without feeling like crap because it can’t help her, too.”
    “I understand,” I reiterate. “Believe me, I agree with you,” I say, standing. “Let’s just go hang out in my room some more. I’m really sorry for bringing it up.”
    Matt watches me stand but stays in his seat.
    “Daisy?”
    “Yeah?”
    He pauses, then forces a half smile that makes my chest feel like it’s caving in.
    “I want to hear it,” he says. “Tell me about your life.”
    Thoughts jumbled, I’m all over the place in the beginning, jumping from our move to Omaha to the fact that the program is managed by the Food and Drug Administration to the rigorous annual tests and back again. I know from the look on Matt’s face that he’s having a hard time following the story, but when I start to describe the agents and their function, the wall crumbles and it seems like he’s not only getting it, but he’s genuinely interested, too.
    “The program was formed about a year before the bus crash,” I say. “Basically, they were waiting for something to happen so they’d have human test subjects. The agents were handpicked across industries for their specialties, and I’m sure they were anxious to get going.”
    “Where did they come from?” Matt asks.
    “Other branches of the government,” I say, shrugging. “Or civilian jobs. Some were recruited out