The First to Die at the End (Death-Cast #0)(94)

“Surprise!”

I tense up, and we find the ladies of Team Young out in the tiny backyard with a festive blanket thrown over the fold-out table. Dalma is holding roses, and Dahlia is raising a sign that reads WELCOME VALENTINO! with most of the letters covered in glitter, almost like she ran out of time or glitter, maybe both. Dayana is the first to walk over to Valentino and embrace him in her arms, like a mother.

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Dayana says, her palms on his face.

“You too, Ms. Dayana,” Valentino says. I’m impressed he got her name right with all these D’s in here. “You’re already living up to every wonderful thing Orion has said about you.”

Dayana pinches my cheek, something she hasn’t done in a minute.

“Did you know about this?” Valentino asks.

“Hell no,” I say, both blown away and shocked. “Can we maybe chill on surprises when a dude with a heart condition is involved?”

“I texted you,” Dalma says.

I check my phone, and she did indeed throw a heads-up my way, but I haven’t taken my phone out of my pocket since we’ve been on the subway or when we were walking over so I wouldn’t get robbed. “My bad.”

Dalma hands Valentino the roses. “I’m sorry for being so insensitive last night.”

“Your heart was in the right place,” Valentino says.

“But I went about it wrong. I hope you can forgive me.”

Valentino hugs Dalma, and I kind of want to collapse on the couch and cry.

Little Dahlia—I mean, she’s thirteen, but she’s always going to be Little Dahlia to me even if she’s about to be Big Dahlia compared to her father—gives me a hug, and I introduce her to Valentino.

“I’m sorry that you . . . that you’re going to . . . you know . . .” Dahlia shakes her head. “Thanks for helping Orion.”

“He’s the one who’s been helping me,” Valentino says.

“He better help you, you’re giving him a heart!” Dahlia says with the air of Duh! in her voice. She turns to her parents. “Can we give him his presents?”

“Presents?” Valentino asks, following Dahlia to the table.

Dalma stops me. “Hey, I hope this is okay. We thought it would be nice to thank him for everything and show him some family love.”

“It’s perfect,” I say. “Or as perfect as an End Day can be with strangers.”

“It seems like you’re more than strangers.”

Unfortunately-slash-fortunately we are.

However this End Day is destined to close out, it’s going to hurt far more than I can possibly imagine.





Valentino


3:58 p.m.

The Youngs are treating me like I’m family.

I’m sitting at the head of their dining table with my roses in my lap. In no world would my parents ever give me flowers, not even on Valentine’s Day. I can’t help but feel like this is my very literal Last Supper without the meal or betrayal. Instead, Dalma comes out of the kitchen with a gift bag. She says it’s not much, but I’m already feeling blessed. I toss the tissue paper at Orion and pull out a snow globe of New York City, a taxicab fridge magnet, a pizza key chain, and a small brown bag of dried linguini noodles.

“I will personally cook those for you if you want them,” Dalma says.

This feels like the ultimate peace offering. “Tempting, but I’m going to pass.”

There’s a sad relief in Dalma’s eyes. “If you change your mind . . .”

“I’ll take you up on that.” I shake the snow globe, the white powder showering the miniature Statue of Liberty and silver buildings. “Thank you all so much. This was really sweet of you.”

“We wanted to welcome you to the city,” Dalma says.

Orion is sitting quietly. I can tell how much this gesture means to him, but it seems to be making him really sad too.

“Where did you move from?” Dahlia asks.

“Phoenix, Arizona,” I answer.

“Why’d you move?”

“It wasn’t the right fit for me anymore. Like a jacket I outgrew.”

“Do you think you wouldn’t be dying if you stayed?”

Everyone shouts, “Dahlia!”

“Dahl, that’s so rude,” Dalma says.

Dahlia shrugs so big it seems exaggerated. “I’m just asking a question!”

I want to ease the tension.

“It’s a great question. I’ve wondered if Death-Cast would’ve called if I’d never left home. But I’m choosing to believe that staying in Arizona would’ve ruined my soul and that the one day I’ve had in the city is the most I’ve lived in a long time.” I tell the family about how I’ve been spending my End Day. How the rejection at the modeling agency led to us buying a camera at a pawnshop and going on a journey of firsts. All the pictures we’ve taken for my sister and Orion to remember me by. Walking the High Line. Visiting the World Trade Center’s memorial site. Being blindfolded and taken past the secret subway station. The journey across the Brooklyn Bridge. Our performances on the train. Returning to Times Square for a first date that got interrupted. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve done so much in one day.” I slide my fingers through Orion’s and lock them together, knowing that the family sitting at this table will only look at us with pride and not judgment. “If I stayed in Arizona, I wouldn’t have met my first boyfriend.”