“Exactly,” I say, even though I don’t believe he believes in his words. He’s trying to talk himself into that truth, and I respect it.
He rests his head back onto his makeshift pillow. Only to pop up again a second later.
“What if those signal disruptions prevent Death-Cast from reaching Scarlett? Or anyone else on the plane? Or everyone else, even? They could be about to take off, not knowing they’re doomed. It’s not like Death-Cast could call the airlines either and prevent them from departing, since they’re not tracking us like all those conspiracy theorists believe, though in this case, it would actually be really helpful to know if the plane is full of Deckers.”
I let Valentino vomit out every last word, and he’s got me thinking about my parents and all the other 9/11 victims.
If Death-Cast had been around back then and called the thousands of people who died in the towers and the planes and on the grounds, could they have lived? Everything Joaquin Rosa has talked about suggests they would have been killed in other ways, but would I have gotten to see them one more time that day? Would I have watched them die instead of being oblivious for hours that they were dead? There’s a million questions I could ask, just like after watching any movie with major time-travel paradoxes, but unless I can actually rewind time, I’m never going to get an answer.
“It’s times like this I wish I still prayed,” Valentino says. “I’d pray for Scarlett’s safety.”
I’ve never really been religious, but I respect other people’s shit as long as they respect mine. Like whenever we’re at home and about to eat, Team Young takes a second to pray for their blessings and I peacefully sit it out and we all jump into our meal together. It’s all good.
“You stopped praying because of your parents?” I ask.
“I’m aware that my story is as old as the Bible, but my parents made it clear that I was sinning after I came out as gay. It felt like I was banned from praying.”
There’s something so thrilling every time Valentino says he’s gay. I feel like the room should’ve lit up in rainbows so I could’ve seen the word fly out of his heart-shaped lips. But honestly, the darkness makes sense, like there’s a storm still following Valentino wherever he goes because he has parents who aren’t giving him the love he deserves. I wouldn’t win the fight, but I’d still want to swing at someone in his defense.
“You know that’s all bullshit, right?”
“Mostly.”
“Look, I don’t fuck with religion, but anyone hating on gay people because of shit the Bible apparently doesn’t even say can go fuck off.”
“I like how you can swear so freely and not come off furious.”
“It’s a gift.”
“Thanks for your not-quite-impassioned take. It’s been really hard to have leaned on my faith for so many years and to have literally prayed to God that my parents would love me anyway and to have been wrong.” He rests his hands on his chest and takes a deep breath. “Getting away from them was one of the main reasons I left. It’s part of my job to feel comfortable in my skin. To own my bones. How could I do that if I can’t be myself at home?”
And now here he is, in bed with another guy on his first night.
“I haven’t told my parents I’m dying,” he says.
Everything about this is shocking, but for me, the biggest shocker is how I forgot he’s going to die today. I got so sucked into his history and cheering on his future that I felt like I slipped into another universe where Valentino is going to have the chance to discover himself the way he’s been dreaming about. But he’s not, because he is going to die today and his parents who drove him away have no idea.
“Are you going to tell them?” I ask, even though it’s not looking good that he hasn’t already tried to drop this big news.