The First to Die at the End (Death-Cast #0)(97)

I’ve thanked my people a thousand times for showing up for Valentino like that and hitting him with the love that his own parents wouldn’t give him.

“Okay, all done,” I say, rejoining everyone at the table.

“He’s going to love it,” Dalma says.

“I hope so.” I rap my knuckles against the table. “Seriously, thanks for everything.”

A thousand and one.

“It’s our pleasure,” Dayana says. She checks her watch. “What timeline are we looking at here?”

“I don’t know. I’m not going to force him out.”

Floyd sits up. “Absolutely. No one is asking you to march Valentino to his death.”

“Please don’t start doing it now. We haven’t even heard back from Dr. Emeterio—”

“Orion, hear us out,” Dayana says. “We love you and want the best for you.”

“Then don’t try to get me to cut his End Day short.”

“We want to increase all of your days, garrochón,” Floyd says. “Death-Cast is providing us with a unique opportunity to get you the care you need, but there’s a lot of preparation that needs to go into it too.”

“That shit can go wrong now,” I say.

“Language,” Dayana says, looking at Dahlia as if she’s not cursing behind their backs.

“Look, I might not be an official Decker, but I could die tonight too. Are you going to feel good if we rush Valentino’s death and I also die?”

Everyone is quiet, and Dalma is fighting back words, but just like the middle of the night at the hospital, she loses against herself. “This isn’t about us, Orion. You and Valentino have formed this really beautiful relationship, and it’s heartbreaking that you won’t have more time together. But how are you going to feel if Valentino dies in vain and then you do too?”

I’m pretty damn close to being a smart-ass and telling her I won’t feel anything because I’ll be dead, but I stay shut because everyone’s heart is in the right place and they’re just trying to swap out mine for Valentino’s. They don’t get how hard it’s going to be to live because of Valentino and without him. How every heartbeat is going to be him whispering for the rest of my life. I just don’t want to hear him telling me from beyond the grave that I pushed him to die so I can live.

Valentino is coming down the stairs, and I rise to meet him at the door. He’s carrying my laptop, and the closer he gets, the louder his cries become. I open my arms for a hug instead of clenching my fists like I want to because I’m so pissed that even with death on the horizon his parents couldn’t get their shit together. Valentino doesn’t come in for the hug, he tosses the laptop on the couch and grabs my face and kisses me. It’s not passionate like the first one on the Brooklyn Bridge, which is great because I don’t care that my family can see us but I’m not ready for them to watch me go in like that either. Valentino is kissing me like I’ve given him a present.

“You okay?” I ask, breathing. “How’d it go?”

“They said nothing, but I did. Everything I needed to.”

“I’m happy for you. And your parents can kick rocks and—”

“I don’t wish ill on them, Orion. Telling them that I’m willing to go to hell to live my life was all I needed to win.”

“You said you’d go to hell? That’s some king shit.”

He wipes his tears. “I’ll probably regret that if hell is real.”

“Yeah, that’ll bite you in the ass. Hell sounds hot.”

“Can’t be worse than an Arizona heatwave.”

“But for real. How’d you leave things? They really didn’t say anything?”

“Not a single word, Orion. I honestly thought they would apologize or tell me they love me or even something snotty about how this is what I get for going against God. But the silence started hurting even more, so I hung up. I thought it’d be better to cry in private.”

I wish I had been upstairs with Valentino the second that first tear dropped. I hate the idea of him crying alone, but he didn’t need me in his space and face. Valentino is a survivor who needed some help on his End Day, but always had that resilience in his heart and bones.

I grab his hand and lead him back outside, where there’s a loving family waiting for him. He doesn’t offer a ton more details than he did me, but they’re ready to go to war on his behalf too.

Dayana looks nauseated from this story. “I love God, but God would never come between me and my children. If your parents had a healthier relationship with God, it wouldn’t have to.”

“It means a lot to hear that,” Valentino says.

“I’m sorry you’re not hearing it from your own mother and father,” Dayana says.

“Do they know about . . . about me?” I ask. Then I realize how I sound. “Not about me like as a person, like as your friend—boyfriend. I meant about the transplant stuff.”

“They don’t know about that,” Valentino says. “But they know about you.”

“You sure you stuck around long enough to make sure they didn’t have heart attacks?”

“That’s dark,” Dalma says.

“I can make that joke, the heart attackers are my community.”