The First to Die at the End (Death-Cast #0)(11)

“I really want to get into apps, but I haven’t cracked that code yet.”

“Is code really hard to learn?”

“Oh, no, I was talking about metaphorical code, not literal code. Literal code is easy.”

“Dalma doesn’t know what kind of app she wants to create,” Orion says.

It’s funny how even though they’re not twins, let alone siblings, Dalma and Orion’s relationship reminds me of my own with Scarlett. There’s bickering, sure, but there’s also speaking on each other’s behalf, as if there’s some magical telepathic link.

“What about a new game?” I suggest. I used to play Snake all the time on my Nokia, but since switching over to an iPhone nothing in the app store has caught my eye.

“Games are fun, but I want to create something game-changing,” Dalma says. “Honestly, I’ve been trying to figure out something from the Death-Cast angle. Something that would be timely and evergreen.”

So she’s not a Green Shirt Person. Noted.

“Uh-oh,” Dalma says.

I look around, nervous. “Uh-oh what?”

“You got silent after she mentioned Death-Cast,” Orion says.

“Do you not believe in Death-Cast?” Dalma asks.

“Let’s put it like this: I don’t think I’m going to be abducted by aliens at midnight.”

Orion laughs, and when he does, he covers his mouth with his hand and leans forward. I wonder why he’s hiding his smile. My guess would be his chipped tooth. It’s not significant, but I’ve developed an eye for noticing these things through my work. After signing with Future Star Model Management, I had my own bottom chipped tooth restored to make me more sellable. Orion could do the same with good dental insurance.

“But you don’t believe in Death-Cast,” Dalma says.

“There’s nothing to believe in,” I say. “The creator hasn’t offered any proof.”

“A lot of theories but no answers,” Dalma says.

“I think it’s some kind of magic—it’s got to be,” Orion says.

“Really, scarily accurate science,” Dalma says.

“The devil, according to my parents,” I say.

Magic, science, and the devil. But no alien believers in this circle.

“Okay, so I get not having proof,” Orion says. “But do you have any reasons why you would sign up? Kind of personal, my bad. You don’t have to answer if you’re not an aggressive open book. I know we’re strangers.”

“I’d call us friends-in-the-making,” I say.

“I like that,” he says.

“Do you dish for friends-in-the-making?” Dalma asks.

I nod. “The short story is that my sister, Scarlett, got into a really bad car accident in May. Getting that call that she was being rushed to the hospital didn’t make sense. She’s my sister, my twin. She’s also a dream driver. I’ve definitely texted a few times while driving, but never Scarlett. Her phone is off and her eyes are on the road. But this distracted driver crashed right into her.”

It’s not fair how someone can do everything right and still be hurt because someone else does one thing wrong.

“Holy shit,” Orion says.

“I didn’t know how I was supposed to live without her. Every thought in that direction seemed so horrific, even the simple things. There’s no way I could’ve eaten birthday cake that’s for both of us. Or acted like the right side of the couch wasn’t automatically reserved for her.”

“I’m so happy she’s okay,” Orion says.

“She sounds like an incredible spirit,” Dalma says.

“Though I bet you’re pumped to swap cars for trains,” Orion says.

“That’s what’s so funny about Scarlett,” I say. “Once she recovered from surgery, she got right back behind the wheel. She wasn’t going to let that near-death experience stop her from living her life.”

I’ll never forget how tense it was when Scarlett drove again for the first time. I got in the car with her, which couldn’t have helped with the pressure of driving again, but I wasn’t not going to be there for her. Scarlett was great—she started the engine, checked her mirror, pulled out of the driveway, and drove one test lap around our gated community before turning off onto the highway, bringing me along for her errands to replace all her camera equipment that got damaged in the crash.

Just like a phoenix, she was reborn.

“Anyway, that’s why I’m tempted to sign up for Death-Cast. I don’t ever want to mistake another day as ordinary again.” I look around, wondering who has and who hasn’t opted into the service. “I understand that the person who gets the Death-Cast call isn’t the only one dying. If you really hold someone in your heart, you die too.”

I take a deep breath, knowing I’m fully alive.

“I feel like I’m missing a whole chapter of your story,” Orion says. “You’re fresh off this accident. I’d think now more than ever you’d jump at the chance for Death-Cast to give you some peace of mind.”

“I’m definitely at a crossroads. I recognize Death-Cast’s value, but I’m not sure how ready I am to believe in another force that feels too mysterious. Not after the way my parents used religion to turn their backs on me.”