The First to Die at the End

by Adam Silvera

Dr. Emeterio’s face is one big spoiler. “Valentino is showing signs of brain death.”

“Orion?” Scarlett calls for me through the phone. “You’re not going to let my brother’s heart go to waste, are you?”

I lean in and whisper the words I should’ve said when I knew he could’ve heard me, and then I kiss him for the last time.

But anesthetics are only good for the physical pain. They don’t do shit about heartbreak. Not even when they put your boyfriend’s heart inside you.

“We’ll pray for his soul, and his family,” Dayana says. “Only the sister,” Dalma says. Valentino’s parents can pray for themselves.

Scarlett doesn’t have to carry her brother’s heart for him to forever live in hers.

What’s confusing is how Death-Cast didn’t even call Frankie. Yes, Gloria registered Frankie for the service behind his back, but it’s still his phone number that was listed. Why didn’t Death-Cast call?

“I finally know what app I want to create,” Dalma says, alone with Orion in his hospital room.

“I think I can build an app that makes sure no one dies alone.”

“You know what you’re going to call it?” Orion asks. The name came to Dalma like lightning. “The Last Friend app.”

“When did he die? What time?” Just as I want to know everything about Valentino’s life, the same goes for his death. Dr. Emeterio stops studying my charts and pulls out her clipboard. “Valentino passed at 9:11 p.m.” Nine. Eleven. Just when I thought those numbers couldn’t become more haunting.

“Before Death-Cast called, you told me the truth about grief. How as long as you keep existing and breathing that you’ll eventually live again. You have to live, Orion.” Valentino tapped his chest. “This heart isn’t my heart or your heart. It’s our heart. I love you, Orion. Live enough for the both of us.”

I’m no longer a short story. I’m now a novel. Better yet, I’m a work in progress.

I hold my favorite ValentinOrion pictures to my heart. His heart. Our heart.