The First to Die at the End

by Adam Silvera

I begin making my bed. Somehow, it’s going to feel so empty without Valentino, even though I only shared it with him once. Grief is a sneaky son of a bitch, trying to knock me out before Valentino is even down for the count. I’m not having much success with tucking the fitted sheets under the mattress, I always get this shit wrong. Then Valentino comes to the rescue, and it’s the millionth reminder that he won’t be around to help make my bed, to hold me close, to ask how I’m doing. “We should get going, Orion.” I try speaking, but I can’t. I’m not ready for this to be over. “I thought we could share one last first,” Valentino says. “Don’t say our first last goodbye or anything like that.” Valentino holds up the camera. “First stroll down memory lane?” “I’d love that,” I breathe.