Chapters (128)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- PART ONE
- Orion Pagan
- Valentino Prince
- Orion
- Valentino
- Orion
- Valentino
- Orion
- Valentino
- Orion
- PART TWO
- Joaquin Rosa
- Orion
- Valentino
- Orion
- Joaquin Rosa
- Valentino
- Joaquin Rosa
- Valentino
- Orion
- Joaquin Rosa
- Rolando Rubio
- Andrea Donahue
- Valentino
- Orion
- Valentino
- Orion
- Valentino
- Orion
- Valentino
- Orion
- Valentino
- Joaquin Rosa
- PART THREE
- William Wilde
- Joaquin Rosa
- Valentino
- Orion
- Frankie Dario
- Valentino
- Frankie Dario
- Orion
- Valentino
- Scarlett Prince
- Captain Harry E. Pearson
- Scarlett Prince
- Orion
- Scarlett Prince
- Naya Rosa
- Joaquin Rosa
- Naya Rosa
- Frankie Dario
- Gloria Dario
- Naya Rosa
- Rolando Rubio
- Dalma Young
- Valentino
- Rolando Rubio
- Frankie Dario
- Valentino
- Scarlett Prince
- Valentino
- Orion
- Valentino
- Naya Rosa
- Valentino
- Férnan Emeterio
- Orion
- Rolando Rubio
- Valentino
- Captain Harry E. Pearson
- Orion
- Clint Suarez
- Gloria Dario
- Orion
- Scarlett Prince
- Valentino
- Gloria Dario
- Orion
- Valentino
- Joaquin Rosa
- Orion
- Joaquin Rosa
- Valentino
- Scarlett Prince
- Orion
- Valentino
- Gloria Dario
- Rufus Emeterio
- Mateo Torrez Jr.
- Orion
- Valentino
- Orion
- Valentino
- PART FOUR
- Orion
- Frankie Dario
- Valentino
- Orion
- Gloria Dario
- Valentino
- Frankie Dario
- Valentino
- Paz Dario
- Frankie Dario
- Dalma Young
- Orion
- Dalma Young
- Gloria Dario
- Orion
- PART FIVE
- Orion
- Dalma Young
- Scarlett Prince
- Gloria Dario
- Orion
- Dalma Young
- Orion
- Joaquin Rosa
- Orion
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Books by Adam Silvera
- Back Ad
- About the Publisher
This is my End Day, and all I’ve had today is black tea because of the potential surgery, but as I raise the glass to my lips again, I think about all the things I’d want to drink one last time if I could: iced tea with lots of lemon; a root beer float from a diner; the green shakes and vanilla protein smoothies I loved making in the mornings; apple juice that reminds me of sharing sippy cups with Scarlett as kids; and gallons and gallons of water. I’m still really dehydrated when I’m done with this little exercise, but I’m full on the memories of these little things I took for granted. I release a deep breath that’s satisfying to Orion.
“Great start to our first date,” I say.
“It gets better—I hope.”
“If you’re thinking what I’m thinking—”
“Oh, I’m thinking what you’re thinking, but I’m also thinking about how nervous I am to read you one of my stories.”
“The story is what I was thinking about. What else were you thinking about?”
Orion looks into my eyes before he realizes I’m teasing. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t.”
There’s a tension between us before Orion grabs his phone. “I wrote this before I knew you, but it was about a heart transplant.”
Orion begins reading me his short story “Golden Heart,” the same one I saw on the desktop of his laptop. It’s not a comedy, but I can’t help but laugh when Orion says the main character’s name is Orionis. But it gets darker when Death starts aging Orionis’s heart and he can only stay alive if Orionis dances with him. His life became this never-ending dance with Death, one he was ready to be over because living like that wasn’t life at all. Then he comes across an elderly man with a golden heart who was living carefree and doing everything Orionis couldn’t do. But it was breaking his heart to watch Orionis so miserable, just as mine breaks for Orion. The elder gives Orionis his heart as I will for Orion.
Orion closes his phone. “That’s the end.”
“It’s heavy and happy.”
“Yeah. I didn’t think it could get sadder except for the fact that you don’t get to live as long as the elder.”
“That’s sad, but that’s not the saddest part. The elder didn’t even know Orionis. I got to spend the day with the person who will have my heart.”
“Big facts. I like knowing that I’m not being powered by a total shithead.”
Orion is trying to hide behind humor. I think we’re reaching that point. That point where we know we’re going to have to say goodbye.
I grab his hand.
“Do you think that you’ll write about me?”