The First to Die at the End (Death-Cast #0)(112)

“My bad.”

“It’s a new world,” Dalma says.

“It’s going to take some getting used to,” Scarlett says.

In more ways than one.

Scarlett opens her fist and reveals a USB flash drive. I already have my own that I’ve used for homework assignments in the past and for backing up my short stories in case my laptop dies for real. But inside this little memory keeper is a video of Valentino saying my name. Maybe more, and if not, that would still be enough.

“Thanks,” I say.

Scarlett smiles. “Back at you.”

I almost ask for what, but it’s clear what she’s thanking me for.

Everything.

“You want to watch it now?” Dalma asks.

“Hell yeah.”

My whole life wasn’t spent with Valentino, I didn’t even get a full day. I need more now.

Dalma props my laptop on my bed, setting it to charge so it stays alive. “I love you, O-Bro.”

“You too, sis.”

It’s the first time I’ve called her my sister, and not in a she’s-pretty-much-like-my-sister way.

Dalma squeezes my hand before she leaves the room with Scarlett.

I plug the USB flash drive into the laptop I’ll be using to write stories about Valentino.

To immortalize him.

For now, I click on the file that’s been titled Valentino to Orion.

There he is, frozen, in my bedroom, at my desk, as if he’s three feet away and not out of reach in every way.

I press Play on the video, and Valentino Prince comes back to life.

“Hi, Orion.”

His blue eyes, my name flying out of his heart-shaped lips, his bedhead from after we had sex . . .

If it weren’t for Death-Cast, I’d bet on this video killing me. But knowing I’ll survive gives me the strength to watch this now, to want to watch this forever on a loop.

It won’t kill me. But it could heal me.

“I don’t have a lot of time,” Valentino says—said. “Not only because it’s my End Day. That’s obvious. But you’re in the shower after our incredible first time together, and I’m nervous you might pop back in any second now. I just finished filming my video for Scarlett and everything is so uncertain and I wanted to get some things off my chest in case my death catches me off guard.”

Thankfully he had that foresight. But I don’t want to think about Valentino’s bruised and bloody face after that deadly fall down the stairs, I only want to remember him as he was throughout his End Day. Smiling, beautiful, lively.

“I can’t imagine what I would do without you,” Valentino said. “That might seem strange because I lived a whole life before you, but even though I didn’t know you, I know you were the kind of person I was hoping to find. It’s easy to say the timing was bad, but it could have been a lot worse, right? I could have never known you, Orion.”

Valentino’s eyes teared up, like that thought is too brutal.

I’m with him one billion percent.

“One of the downsides of living, Orion, is that you’re going to have the challenge of living without me,” Valentino said, then cringed. “I’m sorry. That came off more self-important than I meant. You’ve told me how grief affects you, and I’m not in the same league of your parents, but I know I wasn’t a nobody either. I don’t want you to fall into a black hole, or think that you have to. I want you to find the light even on the days that feel as dark and—”

Then the door opened because Valentino got interrupted by me, by Past Orion. The camera is still on Valentino—I can’t even see Past Orion, who I personally know is standing in the doorway in nothing but a towel because that was me—and it hurts rewatching that fear in Valentino’s eyes as if something horrible was about to happen.

“What’s going on?” Valentino had asked, popping out of my chair.

“Nothing, nothing,” Past Orion said. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. I had a bad feel— I got nervous.”

Then relief washed over Valentino as he sat back down and breathed. “I’m okay. I’m just recording a message for Scarlett. Something for her to have after I’m . . . Do you mind if I finish? I need a minute.”

“Take your time. . . . And don’t die. . . . You know what I mean!”

Past Orion left, and Valentino smiled into the camera.

“I’m sorry for lying to you,” he said with a smirk. “I hope you understand. . . .”

If I ever have to lie to someone, I hope it’s charming like this.

“What was I saying?” Valentino looked up, like his words were written on the ceiling, a prepared speech. “Please don’t give in to your grief. Don’t wait for your End Day to live like we did together. If you’re having a bad day, maybe you can do me a favor and go for a run. It’s what I would do. It’s what I did a lot, honestly.” He went quiet, like he was lost in his head. But then he found himself again and smiled. “I want you to make more discoveries in your city, and I want you to be brave enough to make the first move again the next time someone catches your eye. And someone will catch your eye again, Orion. Please don’t deny yourself that out of fear of losing someone again, or guilt because you’re living on and I can’t.”