The First to Die at the End (Death-Cast #0)(9)

I can’t be left alone with Valentino right now.

“Dalma!” I wave her over, and she comes to the rescue ASAP. “Dalma, this is Valentino.”

“Hi,” Dalma says, shaking his hand; I didn’t even get to shake his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Valentino says. “Your boyfriend here—”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Dalma says. Deep breath, then: “No, no, no, no.”

I stare at her, slightly—nah, majorly insulted at how long she was living in those no-no-no’s. “Okay, calm down, I’m not trying to date you either.”

“He’s practically my younger brother,” Dalma says.

“Younger by two months,” I say.

“As if the world couldn’t have ended in the two months it took for you to be born.”

“You always say that, like you’re trying to have me killed off.”

I don’t get it, are we throwing down for Valentino? We’re eighteen, not eight, but I saw him first, said hi first, made an ass of myself first. I get to see where this is going first.

Thankfully he doesn’t seem completely turned off of us.

“You definitely have the practically sibling bickering down,” Valentino says, not a beat of judgment in his voice. “I’m the same with my twin.”

Holy shit, there are two of him.

I mean, I got to wonder at this point if I’ve already died and moved on to the afterlife where there are two Valentinos. Maybe Dalma and I don’t have to compete at all—we both get to bring a Valentino home and live happy lives.

But wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.

“Twin bro or sis?”

“Sister,” Valentino says, which means the fight for his heart is still on.

“Where’s she at?”

“Scarlett is back home in Arizona.”

Back home. So he doesn’t live here.

This is why I need to stop getting ahead of myself.

As a writer, I’m always telling stories before I even know what they’re about, getting carried away and turning words into sentences, sentences into paragraphs, paragraphs into chapters, chapters into love stories. Maybe winging it like that works for novels, but for life, your imagination can set you up for a heartbreaking ending.

“That sucks that she’s missing out on this party,” I say, trying not to get too bummed out. I really got to stop investing so fast.

“She’s actually photographing the party in Phoenix. Then she’s flying in tomorrow morning for more New York adventures.”

“How long are you visiting for?”

“I actually just moved here,” Valentino says, looking around again at Times Square.

His words get my heart racing.

So does his smile again.

Valentino has this happy glow while looking around the city as a newly minted New Yorker. Who knows how long he’s been waiting to make this happen. It could be a month, a year, a decade, his whole life. Were things bad back in Arizona? Did Valentino and Scarlett need a change? What’s good with their parents—or guardians? Are they also moving here? I have so many questions, and it might take a minute to get some answers, but I know I got time now too.

“Welcome to NYC,” Dalma says. “So you’re alone tonight?”

“I am. I arrived a couple hours ago and came right back out for the party.”

“You can chill with us if you want,” I offer.

“Some company would be nice. You sure you don’t mind?”

“Hell no. It’s not like you know anyone else in the city.”

“I’m actually very popular. My landlord is pretty much my best friend.”

“I can’t wait to meet him,” I say, which is just so damn bold.

“He’s actually the worst, but I’ll have to have you over soon anyway,” Valentino says with that damn smile.

All right, all right, all right—if this isn’t a thing, then I’m giving up on ever making the first move again. I’m going to need a guy to swear on my parents’ grave that he loves me, and I won’t even tell him that those plots are empty so that he doesn’t get funny and lie.

But because Valentino’s got me weak, I wouldn’t need all that.

His smile alone has got me cashing in.





Valentino


11:32 p.m.

It’s my first night and I’m making friends already.

Friends with beautiful names. Beautiful faces too.

I stare at Orion, whose cheekbones are worthy of every magazine cover and his hazel eyes, which I suspect have seen too much for someone so young. I realize I’m staring too long when he begins blushing. I’m pretty confident that Orion is gay. I guess he could be bisexual, but at the very least I’m sure he likes other boys too. It’s obviously not a bad thing that I can tell. I’m jealous that he seems so open and has been probably given the chance to do so. I should find a way to make it clear that I’m into boys too.

“What’s got you hyped about New York so far?” Orion asks.

I could spend the rest of the night answering that question. “I really want to do everything. Just live like a tourist so I don’t take any day for granted.”

“That’s really smart,” Dalma says. “I love this city, but I’m over so much of it.”