Then we’re just two boys who are silent as we continue crossing this postapocalyptic, retired train line. There’s no one else in sight, almost like the world wants us to be present in our future. I listen to the wind and my thoughts, which are both depressing and uplifting. I might not be around to laugh for much longer, but Orion will be if all goes well. It will go well. I’m putting my full faith into that; whatever that means these days.

Orion stops and stares at the plants emerging between the train tracks. “This is my first time here too. I wanted to visit last summer when everything was super fresh, but my heart got in the way. I spent the day at the hospital instead. I took it as a sign that I shouldn’t try to go somewhere that was known as Death Avenue. But I was just remembering how the High Line was supposed to be demolished. Just straight wiped from the city until people in the neighborhood fought for it to find new life and it got turned into this dope park.” Orion looks at me with his hazel eyes. “I hate that you’re dying, Valentino, but I want you to remember that everything isn’t over just because you’re a Decker. I’m going to keep fighting through whatever your End Day throws your way to turn your life into something beautiful.”

There’s no doubt in my mind that Orion means every word.

I bumped into the perfect stranger in Times Square.

“It’s almost like when I die and you have my heart, I’ll live on through you,” I say. “A new, beautiful life.”

My chest feels tight as Orion and I stare into each other’s eyes.

“Totally,” he says, breaking contact, and I look away too. “I’ll become a walking park.”

“What you lack in history, Orion, you make up for in metaphors.”

“I’m a writer. I better get that shit right.”

We stop and rest our arms on the railing. We have a calming view of the river. I’m guessing it’s the Hudson River, but even though I’m a newly christened New Yorker I didn’t suddenly download all the knowledge of one. I just watch the water and the boat slowly creeping along its surface.

“I’ve never been on a boat,” I say.

“It sucks, but please don’t fight to make that one of your firsts.”

“You going to ride up on a horse and stop me like one of those cowboys you made up?”

“Yeehaw,” Orion dryly says. “But for real, it’s your life. I selfishly don’t want to risk watching you drown. I don’t give a shit about what Death-Cast thinks, there’s no way I’d survive that.”