Or he was talking into the camera until I busted in like the house is on fire.
“What’s going on?” Valentino asks, fear in his blue eyes.
“Nothing, nothing.” I almost drop the towel wrapped around my waist, which wouldn’t be the end of the world now that we’ve seen every inch of each other. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. I had a bad feel— I got nervous.”
Valentino lets out a deep breath and sits. “I’m okay. I’m just recording a message for Scarlett. Something for her to have after I’m . . .” A small, knowing nod. “Do you mind if I finish? I need a minute.”
“Take your time,” I say. Then: “And don’t die.” Then-then: “You know what I mean!”
I leave my bedroom, and I’m half tempted to punch myself in the mouth so I can’t say anything stupid again. Instead, I return to my bathroom, where I towel-dry my curls because a hair-dryer feels too risky now that my own fate is up in the air again; I’m not trying to get electrocuted. I change into fresh jeans, a bit baggier than my last pair so I won’t have to fight my way out of them. And on top of my undershirt I put on Valentino’s gray button-down he’s been wearing, breathing in the collar that smells citrusy, kind of like his hoodie. If Valentino has a problem with me wearing it, then he’s going to have to wrestle it off me, and then maybe he dies or we die together because of a fight over a shirt that I want to keep like a championship belt, like a trophy that will always remind me of the victories on this End Day.
I step on a towel and drag it from the bathroom to my bedroom, drying the puddles.
Then I knock on my bedroom door, which feels weird. “You good?”
Every millisecond he doesn’t answer I get nervous.
“Come in,” he says after one whole second, alive and well. I open the door and he smiles when he sees me in his button-down. “It’s a good look on you.”
“You wear it best, but I want to keep it, and you should know I’m willing to fight you to the death.”
Valentino rises from the desk and pulls me into a kiss. “It’s all yours,” he says after.
He seems content in his Have a Happy End Day! shirt, though I invite him to raid my closet again now that I’ve robbed him. He goes through my hoodies as I do some cleaning up—condom and wrapper in my small trash, socks and underwear and skinny jeans in my hamper.
“All good with your message?” I ask Valentino.
“I think so,” Valentino says as he slips on an ordinary gray hoodie. “It’s not like I have a lot of time to get it right.”
“I’m sure Scarlett will love it, even if you just sat there in silence.”
“You’re probably right.”
I begin making my bed. Somehow, it’s going to feel so empty without Valentino, even though I only shared it with him once. Grief is a sneaky son of a bitch, trying to knock me out before Valentino is even down for the count. I’m not having much success with tucking the fitted sheets under the mattress, I always get this shit wrong. Then Valentino comes to the rescue, and it’s the millionth reminder that he won’t be around to help make my bed, to hold me close, to ask how I’m doing.
“We should get going, Orion.”
I try speaking, but I can’t. I’m not ready for this to be over.
“I thought we could share one last first,” Valentino says.
“Don’t say our first last goodbye or anything like that.”
Valentino holds up the camera. “First stroll down memory lane?”
“I’d love that,” I breathe.
“I thought we could do it at my place. Then I can leave the camera behind for Scarlett and we can go straight to the hospital after. Hopefully Dr. Emeterio has figured out something for me . . .”