They Both Die at the End (Death-Cast #1)(12)

Philly B. (2:09 a.m.): I can help with that, Mateo.

Mateo T. (2:09 a.m.): Help with what?

Philly B. (2:09 a.m.): Making sure you don’t die.

Mateo T. (2:09 a.m.): That’s not a thing anyone can promise.

Philly B. (2:10 a.m.): I can. You seem like a cool guy who doesn’t deserve to die so you should come over to my apartment. It’ll have to be a secret, though, but I have the cure to death in my pants.

I block Philly and open up Elle’s message. Maybe the third time will be the charm.





RUFUS


2:21 a.m.

Aimee gets in my face and pushes me against the fridge. She doesn’t play when it comes to violence because her parents got real extra when they tag-team-robbed a convenience store, assaulting the owner and his twenty-year-old son. Shoving me around isn’t gonna get her locked up like them, though.

“Look at him, Rufus. What the fuck were you thinking?”

I refuse to look at Peck, who’s leaning against the kitchen counter. I already saw the damage I did when he walked in—one eye shut, a cut on his lip, spots of dried blood on his swollen forehead. Jenn Lori is right next to him, pressing ice against his forehead. I can’t look at her either, she’s so disappointed in me, End Day or not. Tagoe and Malcolm flank me, quiet too since she and Francis already gave them shit for hitting the streets with me way past bedtime to rough Peck up.

“Not feeling so brave now, right?” Peck asks.

“Shut up.” Aimee whips around, slamming her phone against the counter, startling everyone. “Don’t follow us.” She pushes open the kitchen door and Francis is not-so-casually hanging out by the staircase, trying to stay in the know but also keep back so he doesn’t have to shame or punish a Decker.

Aimee drags me into the living room by my wrist. “So, what? Death-Cast calls and so you’re free to lay into whoever the fuck you want?”

I guess Peck didn’t tell her I was beating his ass before I got the alert. “I . . .”

“What?”

“There’s no point lying. I was coming for him.”

Aimee takes a step back, like I’m some monster who might lash out at her next, which kills me.

“Look, Ames, I was freaking out. I already felt like I didn’t have a future before Death-Cast dropped that grenade in my lap. My grades have always been shit, I’m almost eighteen, I lost you, and I was wilding out because I didn’t know what I was gonna do. I felt like a straight-up nobody and Peck pretty much said the same damn thing.”

“You’re not a nobody,” Aimee says, shaking a little as she comes toward me, no longer scared. She takes my hand and we sit on the couch where she first told me she was leaving Pluto because her aunt on her mom’s side had enough dough to take her in. A minute later, she also broke up with me because she wanted a clean slate, some cheap-ass tip from her elementary school classmate—Peck. “We didn’t make sense anymore. And there’s no point lying, like you said, even on your last day.” She holds my hand while she cries, which I was doubting she’d even do because she was so pissed when she got here. “I read our love wrong, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. You were there for me when I needed to act out and be angry, and you made me happy when I was tired of hating everything. Nobodies can’t make someone feel all of that.” She hugs me, resting her chin on my shoulder the same way she would relax on my chest whenever she was about to watch one of her historical documentaries.

I hold her because I don’t have anything new to say. I wanna kiss her, but I don’t need some fakeness from her. She’s mad close though, and I pull back so I can see her face because maybe one last kiss might be real for her too. She’s staring at me and I lean in—

Tagoe comes into the living room and covers his eyes. “Oh! Sorry.”

I back up. “Nah, you good.”

“We should do the funeral,” Tagoe says. “But take your time. It’s your day. Sorry, it’s not your day, it’s not like a birthday, it’s the opposite.” He twitches. “I’m gonna get everyone in here.” He steps.

“I don’t want to hog you,” Aimee says. She doesn’t let me go, not until everyone comes in.

I needed that hug. I’m looking forward to hugging the Plutos for a final Pluto Solar System group hug after the funeral.

I stay seated in the center of the couch. I’m battling my lungs for my next breath, hard-core. Malcolm sits to my left, Aimee to my right, and Tagoe at my feet. Peck keeps his distance, playing around on Aimee’s phone. I hate that he’s on her phone, but I broke his so I gotta stay shut.

This is my first Decker funeral, since my family didn’t care about throwing one for themselves because we all had each other and didn’t need anyone else, not coworkers or old friends. Maybe if I’d gone to others I’d be ready for the way Jenn Lori speaks directly to me and not the other attendees. It makes me feel vulnerable and seen, and it gets me teary eyed, like when someone sings “Happy Birthday” to me—seriously, every year, it never fails.

Failed.

“. . . You never cried even though you had every reason to, like you were trying to prove something. The others . . .” Jenn Lori doesn’t turn to the Plutos, not even a little. She doesn’t break eye contact, like we’re in a staring contest. Respect. “They all cried, but your eyes were so sad, Rufus. You didn’t look at any of us for a couple days. I was convinced if someone posed as me you wouldn’t have known any better. Your hollowness was heavy until you found friends, and more.”