The first time I hugged Orion was after he shared his story about losing his parents. Now it’s because of my heart he’ll be gaining. This is really nice. It’s so soothing how his curls brush against my jawline. The weight of his head on my shoulder makes me feel really grounded, like I haven’t been completely uprooted from this planet even though I’m the only one in this room who’s dying today. What’s really incredible is how our hearts are beating against each other’s chests, like they’re communicating in their own language as to what happens next.

I realize I don’t fully understand everything myself.

I pat Orion’s back and pull away. I hand him a box of tissues, and he dries his eyes.

“I should call Mom,” Dalma says, about to step out.

“Wait, Dalma? Has my sister called?”

She shakes her head. “We’ll keep trying, though.”

“Okay,” I say, even though Dalma has stepped out.

The more I tell myself that Scarlett is fine, the more it begins to feel like a lie. Just because Scarlett and I came into this world together doesn’t mean we’re destined to leave at the same time too. In about a half hour it will be midnight in Arizona. Scarlett still has time to sign up for Death-Cast. I hope she’s not a Decker too.

“How are we doing this operation?” I ask Dr. Emeterio.

Dr. Emeterio gestures for us to have a seat as if this is going to be a long conversation. Orion and I sit together, our shoulders brushing as we fidget in these uncomfortable chairs. Dr. Emeterio stares like she can’t believe her eyes. “I’ve been a cardiac surgeon for years, but this is a first for me, gentlemen. Living heart donors who aren’t participants because of brain death are rare to come by and, even then, it’s usually a family member getting involved.”

“Not strangers who met at Times Square,” Orion says.

“Or anywhere,” I add.

“Indeed. This is very generous,” Dr. Emeterio says.

“Have I thanked you yet?” Orion asks me.

“You don’t—”

“I don’t think I did. I just hugged you.”

“It’s okay—”

“Oh my god, thank you. Also, if you change your mind, it’s all good. You don’t owe me this. Seriously, I’m not going to get mad or hold a grudge, I’ll respect your choice.”

“Grudge wouldn’t last too long,” I say, intending to make a joke, but I sound hollow.

Orion blushes, not finding it funny either. “Right.”