I borrow Rufus’s phone so I can call Lidia. My phone’s battery is dying, down close to thirty percent, and I want to make sure the hospital can reach me in case my dad wakes up. I move to a different seat near the back of the bus and dial Lidia’s number.
Lidia picks up almost instantly, but there’s still this pause before she answers, a lot like in the weeks after Christian died. “Hello?’
“Hi,” I say.
“Mateo!”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“You blocked my number! I taught you how to do that!”
“I had to—”
“How could you not tell me?”
“I—”
“Mateo, I’m your fucking best fucking friend—Penny, don’t listen to Mommy—and you don’t fucking tell me you’re dying?”
“I didn’t want—”
“Shut up. Are you okay? How are you doing?”
I’ve always thought Lidia is like a coin being flipped in the air. Tails is when she’s so pissed it’s like she’s turning her back on you and heads is when she sees you at her clearest. I think we’ve landed on heads, but who knows.
“I’m okay, Lidia. I’m with a friend. A new friend,” I say.
“Who is this? How’d you meet her?”
“The Last Friend app,” I say. “His name is Rufus. He’s a Decker too.”
“I want to see you.”
“Me too. That’s why I’m calling. Any chance you could drop off Penny somewhere and meet me at the Travel Arena?”
“Abuelita is already here. I called her—freaking the fuck out—hours ago and she came home from work. I’ll go to the arena, right now, but please get there safely. Don’t run. Walk slowly, except when you’re crossing the street. Only cross when it’s your light and only when there isn’t a car in sight, even if they’re stopped at a red light, or parked along the sidewalk. Actually, do not move. Where are you right now? I’m coming for you. Do not move unless someone around you looks shady.”
“I’m on a bus with Rufus already,” I say.
“Two Deckers on one bus? Do you have a death wish? Mateo, those odds are insane. That thing could topple over.”
My face burns a little. “I don’t have a death wish,” I quietly say.
“I’m sorry. I’m shutting up. Please be careful. I have to see you one la— I have to see you, okay?”
“You’ll see me and I’ll see you. I promise.”
“I don’t want to hang up,” she says.
“Me either.”
We don’t hang up. We could, and should, probably use this time to talk about memories or find things to apologize for in case I can’t keep my promise, but nope, we talk about how Penny just hit herself on the head with a big toy and isn’t crying, like the little soldier she is. A new memory to laugh over is just as good as reflecting on an old one, I think. It may even be better. I don’t want to kill Rufus’s phone battery in case the Plutos reach out, so Lidia and I agree to hang up at the same time. Pressing End kills my mood and the world feels heavier again.
PECK
3:21 p.m.
Peck is getting the gang back together.
The gang with no name.
Peck got his nickname because there’s no power behind his punches. More annoying than harmful, like a bird pecking on you. If you want someone laid out, sic the Knockout King on them. Peck is good with stomping someone out if the occasion calls for it, but Damien and Kendrick don’t keep him around because he’s an extra body. Peck’s access to an end-all weapon makes him valuable.
He walks toward his closet, feeling Damien’s and Kendrick’s eyes on his back. From here on it’s like a Russian nesting doll, designed that way by Peck. He opens the closet, wondering if he has it in him. He opens the hamper, wondering if he’s okay never seeing Aimee again, knowing she’ll never forgive him if she ever finds out he’s responsible. He opens the last box, a shoebox, knowing he’s got to respect himself for once.
Peck will gain respect by unloading this gun into the one who disrespected him.
“What we do now?” Damien asks.
Peck opens up Instagram, goes on Rufus’s profile, and is pissed to find more comments from Aimee saying how much she misses him. He keeps refreshing the account, over and over.
“We wait.”
MATEO
3:26 p.m.
The rain turns to drizzle when the bus stops outside the World Travel Arena at Thirtieth and Twelfth. I step off the bus first and behind me there’s a squeak and “FUCK!” I turn in time to grab onto the steps’ railing so Rufus doesn’t fall face-first out of the bus and take me with him. He’s a little muscular, so the weight hurts my shoulders, but Rufus helps situate us both.