“Almost there?” I ask.

“Almost there,” Orion says.

An overhead announcement begins, and Orion leans into my ear and mumbles nonsense to drown out the message. Feeling his breath on my face gives me goose bumps.

“Sorry about that. We haven’t come this far for Train Operator Number One to spoil the ending.”

“I appreciate your dedication.”

“Can you talk to me instead?”

“And say what?”

“Tell me a secret.”

Orion is quiet, but this time I can’t read his face. I only know that he hasn’t walked away because he’s still holding my hand, even though we’re not moving.

“What kind of secret?” he asks.

“Something personal. Something you wouldn’t even admit out loud.”

“Unfortunately, you’re the perfect person to tell a secret to.”

Any secret dies with me. “Exactly.”

“Okay, but you got to wait until we’re on the train.”

It’s like my whole body is vibrating. Is this because of the incoming train roaring through the subway? Am I secretly on the tracks? Or is it pure anticipation on what Orion will share with me, hoping it’s what I would say if he asked me?

The train doors open, and I manage to hear “last stop” before Orion hums loudly into my ear and guides me inside, straight into a seat. I no longer even care about where we’re going. I want to know what he’s going to reveal about himself. He stops humming to tell me to keep my head down, and I fold into my lap, dizzy in the darkness. I would fall forward if it weren’t for Orion holding his arm across my chest. Then right as the conductor begins announcing what the next stop will be, Orion’s lips graze my ear.

“I’m scared I’m going to die and never have been in love.”

It’s so silent that I hear the doors close.

The train leaves the station.

Orion unwraps the hoodie, and the light bothers my eyes, but not as much as his confession that he can’t possibly believe is true.

“I can tell you want to say something, but we don’t have a lot of time.”

“A lot of time for what?”

Orion gestures at the rest of the train car. There’s no one sitting in the blue and orange seats or holding on to the railings while playing on their phones. It’s empty except for us.

“Is this rare in New York?”

“Not at all, but we’re going somewhere that we’re not supposed to . . .”

Childhood memories of the thought of going to hell resurface. It doesn’t help that I’m alone with another gay boy. “Should I be nervous?”