Orion

3:17 p.m.

The journey is off to a rough start.

First, Valentino and I debate the safest way to get home. I think taking a taxi can get us there sooner, but he’s nervous about being in a car after Scarlett’s accident, especially on his End Day. I can’t knock him. The thing is . . . today might be my End Day too. But I let it go because the certainty of his fate trumps my possibility. Not that that makes me any less nervous about riding the train uptown, since I feel that bastard grim reaper shadowing me again. I got to take some blame, I guess, since I’ve shown Valentino how dreamy train rides can be with running from car to car like it’s a race or traveling through secret subway stations or putting on shows and getting standing ovations.

But when you flip that coin, shit gets real.

As the train exits Manhattan and enters the Bronx, I make sure there’s space between us on our bench in the corner. Not so much space that we can be targeted individually, but not so close that we draw attention for being together. I hate talking shit about my home borough, because I love the Bronx, but I can’t pretend like we’ve got our act together, like being gay is going to fly with everyone. In Manhattan, it’s way less of a risk to lounge my leg across Valentino’s lap and rest my head on his shoulder and kiss him. Here, I’ve got to keep everything to myself. Our lives could depend on it.

The last few stops are the most intense, they feel like the dwindling hours of an End Day. The closer you’re getting to your final destination, the more alert you have to be, not wanting it to all go wrong when you’ve still got time to get it right.