The First to Die at the End (Death-Cast #0)(43)

“No need to ask,” Orion says, sliding his phone across the floor. “Just go for it.”

I used his phone right before we left the hospital so I could text Scarlett how best to reach me since Dalma was no longer along for the ride. She responded quickly, which had me nervous because I don’t want her texting and driving, but she had responsibly parked before checking the new notification from another unidentified number. Even distressed, Scarlett is still playing it safe, which is great because we still have about twenty minutes before we’re certain that she’s not also dying today.

I go to his call history and click Scarlett’s newly saved name. She answers my FaceTime in seconds.

Scarlett’s face and eyes are red, and she exhales immediately upon seeing me. “I was so nervous it wasn’t going to be you.”

“I’m home,” I say, angling the camera so she can see the apartment with what little I have unpacked and Orion in the corner.

“Good. Make sure there’s nothing in there that can kill you. Like the stove or sharp surfaces. Does the window lock? Lock the window so no one can sneak in.”

If this were an ordinary call, I might just tell her that everything is fine. But I want to calm her nerves as much as I’ll need her to calm mine, so I go around the apartment and make sure it’s death-proofed.

“All done,” I say.

“Thank you. Don’t hang up yet.”

“I won’t.”

I sit on the air mattress, which is firm enough to help me sleep for a couple hours. I watch Scarlett as she checks in at her gate and takes a deep breath. She’s only flown twice before and she’s not a fan. Now more than ever I regret leaving early. The cell service gets weaker the deeper she goes down the jet bridge because despite all the reports of in-flight Wi-Fi becoming a thing, I don’t know anyone who’s been on a plane with one yet.

“Scar,” I call as she keeps lagging, her face frozen in ways she would hate.

I hang up and send her a text, hoping it goes through: Service sucks. Let me know when you’re about to take off. I love you, Scar.

“She’s boarding,” I tell Orion. “I should probably go to bed. I want to be rested when she arrives.”

“You got to get that beauty sleep too before the photo shoot,” he says.

“I have enough concealer to hide my shadows and cut.”

“So do you have any bedsheets?” Orion asks.

I shake my head. “I was more concerned with packing a million shoes apparently.”

“Oh, I got this.” Orion hops up, ready to problem solve as he grabs some of the clothes and jackets I took time folding and brings them to the air mattress. He creates pillows by stuffing sweaters into cotton T-shirts so the wool won’t be scratchy on our faces. He lays out one towel across the air mattress as bedding and tops it off with the black trench coat as my blanket.

“If I had my phone, I’d take a picture of this,” I say. It’s really impressive.

“I kind of love it too,” Orion says. He puts one of the sweater-pillows on the floor and makes a sleeping bag out of a sweater and my tan suede jacket.

“What are you doing?”

“Just making my bed. Is that cool? I’ll sleep under your jacket so it doesn’t touch the floor.”

“No, I don’t care about that. You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

“I really don’t mind. I appreciate you letting a total stranger crash anyway.”

“You’re not a total stranger. If we’re going to share a heart, we can share a bed.”

Orion’s face scrunches. “Eh, technically you’re giving me your heart. We’re not sharing. But I’m not going to ignore . . .”

“A dying man’s wish?” I ask.

“Hey, you filled in the blank, not me.”

Orion throws his sweater-pillow and outerwear-blankets on the bed. We take off our boots. I normally sleep in my underwear, but I don’t want to make things uncomfortable, so I switch into my sweatpants. Orion sets an alarm on his phone before using my charger; together we form a perfect team. I switch off the lights and get into bed, where Orion is already getting cozy. The room is dark even without blinds, but not pitch-black thanks to the city lights keeping the block awake. I think about buying curtains tomorrow because it’s important I get full-night sleeps, especially on the days I work, before remembering that’s not going to be my issue.

How many of those thoughts will I have before I fully accept dying?

Hopefully a ton. That means I’m still alive.

This is the first time I’m sharing a bed with another boy. We’re not cheating either by lying on opposite ends with our feet in each other’s faces. This is head to head with our eyes up at the ceiling. It’s really nice and the kind of life I was planning on creating for myself out here in New York. I had some luck back home with talking to some boys, but it never came anywhere near this level. Everything always felt so tricky because of hiding my feelings from my parents and not always feeling safe doing anything romantic as I walked through my red state. I also never felt that right pull to another boy; someone who would’ve been worth it all.

It’s so quiet that I feel like my heartbeats are so loud, like I’m anticipating something.

Orion ends the silence when he whispers, “I have a question.”