The First to Die at the End (Death-Cast #0)(95)

Orion’s eyes widen and he smiles. “Boyfriend?”

“If that’s okay with you.”

“Hell yeah, boyfriend.”

We kiss.

Dahlia whispers, “But they just met!” and Dalma whispers back, “Shut up!” and Orion and I break our kiss, laughing along with everyone else.

Together, Orion and I share more intimate details about my End Day and how we’ve navigated what was safe to do and what was worth a little risk. Dahlia wants to know how bad Orion’s dancing was on the train; we let the tips between our performances speak for themselves. Dalma thanks me for keeping Orion company at the World Trade Center site. Orion tries talking about it, but he doesn’t get much out. Dayana comes to the rescue with stories about growing up with Magdalena while Floyd talks about the epic World Series parties that Ernesto would host whenever the Yankees were playing.

“I’m sorry to hear about Scarlett,” Dalma says. “Any chance she’ll make it out?”

“I’m not counting on it,” I painfully admit. Today is about acceptance. Orion has encouraged me to control what I can and accept what I can’t. “I’m having a really lovely time with you, but would you mind if I actually called Scarlett? I’m feeling really inspired to set some things straight with my family after being welcomed by yours.”

“Do you mean . . . ?” Orion asks.

“Yes.”

I’m going to call my parents and tell them it’s my End Day.


4:36 p.m.

Coming out as gay was one thing. Coming out as a Decker is another.

I came out as gay to Scarlett our first moment alone while she was recovering at the hospital. “I love you, Val” was all Scarlett said out loud, and her knowing gaze said everything else. I’d wanted to come out to my parents that afternoon too, but they spent so much time praying at my sister’s bedside that I knew I should wait. A couple days after Scarlett was home, I knew I had to make my move so I could get everyone to adjust to our new normal instead of returning to our old normal, where I had to be closeted. I sat my parents down in the living room and came right out with false confidence. It was tricky to tell if they already knew. I had thought about all the times my father would say “He’s a queer” as an insult or how my mother suspected any single older man must be gay if they weren’t married with children. There weren’t any knowing gazes from my parents like there were with my sister. But there were lectures—lots and lots of lectures with the headline being that I’m doomed to damnation if I choose sinning over Christ.

Will my parents still tell me I’m going to hell once they discover it’s my End Day?

I’ll get my answer soon.

I called Scarlett a few minutes ago, and she supports my choice to let our parents know. I don’t know how she would have dealt with this if I hadn’t come to this decision myself. As far as I’m concerned, she’s their favorite, but would they have held a grudge against her for not telling them it was my End Day? We’ll never have to find out, I suppose.

I’m upstairs in the brownstone’s living room, next to the internet modem so I’ll have a stronger signal for the Skype call with Scarlett and our parents. Orion props his laptop on top of this corner desk, its cord plugged into an outlet because it’ll die if it’s not charging. The desktop background is cluttered with Microsoft Word documents with file names like Watch Me Watch You and Golden Heart and Life Hostage and Never Right, Always Left.

“You’ve written so many stories,” I say.

“They’re all just drafts,” Orion says, drawing the curtain and allowing light in.

“It’s still a lot.”

“I just get in and get out. I don’t even correct typos.”

“Only your eyes have been on them. Do you think . . . Are you still only wanting your eyes on your stories? It’s okay if so.”

Orion smiles. “I’d love for you to be my first reader.”

I squeeze his hand before looking back at the laptop. “Thanks. That’ll be a nice reward for getting through this call.”

“You sure you don’t need anything else? I can hang around if you want, I don’t have to appear on camera or anything like that. I can just be close if you want me close.”

I get up and pull Orion into a hug; I like that I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve hugged. It means we’re making up for lost time and time that will be lost. “You’ve been here with me every step of the way today. I need to walk this path myself.”

Orion kisses me. “You got this, Valentino.”

He returns downstairs as I sit back at the desk and log on to Skype. It always takes forever to start up, but my call to Scarlett manages to get through.

Scarlett is back in her bedroom, using our mother’s Dell laptop with the blurry webcam since her own belongings are still stuck on the first plane. Her mascara has stained her cheeks, but she’s not crying at the moment. “Hey, Val.”

“Hey, Scar.”

We don’t say anything for a while. We’re too lost in how unbelievable this is.

I look at her scars, so grateful she’s still alive, and I hope it stays that way.

“Do they know why you’re home?” I ask.

“Only that I couldn’t get a flight out because of Death-Cast.”