Page 51

4:34 p.m.

I ’ m playing fetch with Bucky in the backyard when Paz texts me. He’s asking what time we will begin tonight. Hearing from

him is a much needed endorphin rush. I don’t know when I’ll see Paz yet, but I know no one will stop me. My father might try,

but that’s why my mother is currently speaking with him about my plans because I’m not interested in arguing over Paz’s innocence.

She’s hoping—I am too—that she can talk some sense into my father so I can live the life I deserve without fracturing the

family.

Bucky returns with the tennis ball, but he doesn’t drop it. Ever since he was a puppy he’s always wanted me to wrestle the

ball out of his mouth before throwing it again. At least he’s not making me chase him around as much in his old age. Between

Bucky panting harder, my abdomen aching, and my nondominant arm tiring, I toss the ball as far as I can for one last throw.

I’m about to text Paz when Agent Andrade walks across the backyard. He must be coming to summon me to my father’s office. I’m still sick and angry over Dane’s firing. He ignored my calls, which is understandable. His livelihood has now suffered because I went rogue for my life. I don’t think I would ever get away with anything like last night under Agent Andrade’s watch.

Before becoming the head of security of Shield-Cast, Agent Ariel Andrade was a police officer who made nationwide news after

tracking down the creators of a snuff channel called Bangers where Deckers desperate enough to leave behind money for their

loved ones killed themselves in unique ways for entertainment. The perverse viewers contributed to the daily jackpot, but

only the Decker who was voted as going out with the biggest bang got to secure those fortunes while the others died in vain.

(I hate to think about Paz signing up for that cruel competition if it still existed today.)

Two months into his investigation, Andrade’s partner, Officer Remy Graham, received his End Day alert on July 4, 2017. Officer

Graham bravely chose to work, seeing it as a sign that he and Andrade would work together one last time to put an end to Bangers

on the very day that fireworks would be banging throughout the sky. The two followed a lead where traffic had built up on

the Williamsburg Bridge because a competing Decker, Carmy Castellon, set up two cameras, installed a ramp for his motorcycle,

and strapped fireworks to his chest. Graham tried stopping Carmy Castellon, only to get knocked off the bridge where he drowned.

The Decker was awarded top points for his killing of a cop and his phenomenal timing as he flew off the bridge and detonated

the fireworks, dying in a horrific explosion and securing the jackpot.

On Christmas Day, Andrade posed as a Decker and infiltrated the competition, uncovering the source. My father always hated how Bangers exploited the power of Death-Cast, so right as Andrade was determining his next move after getting justice for Graham, he convinced Andrade to be his personal bodyguard and head up his new security force, Shield-Cast. He has served our family loyally since January 17, 2018.

“You have a guest, Mr. ,” Agent Andrade says.

No one knows we’re here. “Guest?”

“Mr. Rio Morales.”

I almost drop my phone. “He’s here? Now?”

Agent Andrade nods. “Yes, sir. He’s out on the porch. Your parents are preparing to greet him too.”

If I’m not fast, my father’s greeting will quickly turn into banishing. I rush through the backyard and house with Agent Andrade

and Bucky following. I get to the front door right as my parents step through it. I go outside, moving past my parents and

Agent Chen to find Rio is actually here. Bucky shoots past me and runs straight to Rio.

“Hi,” Rio says, petting him.

“Has he been searched?” Pa asks, shielding me.

“Yes, sir,” Agent Chen says.

“Thoroughly,” Rio says, tucking his Luigi shirt into his jeans. “Makes me miss Dane. Where is he?”

“Former Agent Madden no longer serves this family,” Pa says.

“I’m guessing that’s code for you fired him,” Rio jokes.

“No one messes with my son,” he says pointedly.

Ma asks, “What brings you here?”

“Unannounced,” my father adds. He turns to me. “Uninvited too, correct?”

I reluctantly nod. “Can you cool it?”

Rio tears up as he notices my bandaged arm. I’m certain he’s about to excuse himself for a walk so no one can see him cry,

but he fights his way through those feelings. “ never said where he was, but I went to that creepy Twitter account that

tracks your private jet. Here I am.” His neck is craned as he takes in the mansion. “Nice place.”

My father turns to Agent Andrade. “Speak with Twitter.”

I hope he’s not implying that he’s going to have all of Twitter terminated.

My mother goes and hugs Rio. “It’s lovely to see you, and I appreciate your dedication to checking in on , even if it

does cross a line,” she says, pinching Rio’s cheek. “I know it was all out of love, but in the future, please respect our

privacy. Okay?”

“You got it, Naya,” Rio says.

“We’ll leave you to talk outside,” Ma says, a slight raise of her eyebrow to tell me that Rio is not welcome inside. I don’t

like that he’s being treated as if he has knives for fingers and cameras for eyes, but I’m just so happy to see him. Ma hooks

her arm through Pa’s. “Let’s finish speaking inside.”

My father holds strong in his spot as he tells me, “You will remain under Agent Andrade’s supervision. We will talk after

my call with—” He stops himself, not wanting to reveal in front of Rio that he’s scheduled to speak with President Page. “We

will talk after my call.”

My parents go inside, Agent Chen returns to her post by the driveway, and Agent Andrade stands by the fountain, watching Rio through his shades.

“Am I going to get shot if I hug you so hard that I might squeeze the life out of you?” Rio asks.

“No. Just don’t ask for a selfie with any phones that have hidden switchblades.”

“How about hidden poison darts?”

“How about you just hug me?”

Rio barrels into me with a big hug, picking me off my feet. I groan in pain, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. This closeness

is so familiar and needed. When he sets me down, he doesn’t let go. Our faces are buried in each other’s necks.

“I needed to see you alive again,” he says.

“I’m alive.”

“You look like shit, though.” Rio stares into my eyes. “Some red has found its way into your green and brown.”

“I haven’t gotten a lot of sleep,” I say, going to the dusty patio table where Bucky rests his face on my foot as he hides

from the sun. “This whole affair has been haunting.” I don’t elaborate on how my mother believes I’m on the brink of a psychotic

break because I’m not ready to admit that to myself either, but I give him the full account about Mac Maag.

“This was after everything with Ariana?” Rio asks.

I nod. “Ariana walking away would’ve been one of my last memories.”

“Has she called?”

“No. Have you spoken with her?”

“She was relieved that you were okay. She was supposed to reach out by now.”

The longer she takes, the more unforgivable it is. “Ariana should be here too.”

“Am I not enough?” Rio asks jokingly.

“Our friendship was never in danger.” I sigh. “I guess we’re not getting that apartment.”

Rio leans in, his hands pressed together. “We can still get our own place, . I would really love that. I can be your

new bodyguard and...” He inspects my bandaged arm. “Are we signing this? It’s not a cast. Who’s this? That a P-name?”

I’m hesitant to bring this up, but I can’t dismiss this without making it a bigger deal. “That is indeed a P-name that belongs

to someone I met last night.”

Rio’s thick brows meet in the middle. “Is this someone a boy? A boy-boy? A no-homo boy or yes-homo boy? I flew out here because

I was worried about you, but you went and had a meet-cute after your assassination attempt? That’s grounds for killing you.”

I hold back my laugh. “Calm down. There’s nothing to tell.”

Well, not nothing. I share the bullet points of last night’s events. It only leads to more questions:

“You climbed the Hollywood Sign? Is it because he’s cute?”

“How did you talk him down?”

“What’s his name?”

“You ran from a helicopter?”

“Did you kiss him?”

I answer all of Rio’s breathless questions.

“Why are you being so secretive about who he is?” Rio asks.

For the same reasons my mother is speaking to my father about this instead of me. “I don’t want you to judge him.”

“I won’t.”

I brace myself. “It’s Paz Dario.”

It takes a moment to register who he is. “The killer?”

“He’s not a killer.”

“He killed his dad. Didn’t they do a whole documentary about him?”

“It was one episode in a docuseries, not a whole documentary, which was created by pro-naturalists, by the way. The millions

of people who watched that show may not have seen that Paz was declared innocent in court, but I witnessed that ruling with

my own two eyes.” I might not be able to change everyone else’s mind, but I can keep my best friend accountable. “Paz killed

his father in self-defense, and being treated as a cold-blooded murderer is one of the reasons he found himself on the Hollywood

Sign last night.”

Rio seems as if he’s about to tap out, but he leans in again. “Paz is lucky to have been saved by you, but you’re hanging

out with a victim of the first End Day after being almost assassinated by a victim of the first End Day. Are you that arrogant

about Death-Cast that you think you’re so invincible?”

Would Rio ask that question if he knew I was living pro-naturally? Or would he be even more alarmed that I’m hanging out with

someone he calls a killer?

I remember the gun aimed at me. “Paz had a chance to kill me, and he didn’t take it.”

“That’s dark and doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Paz is committed to living, which is why we turned my bandage into a contract for the Begin Days,” I say, giving him a closer

look.

“You signed it too...,” Rio points out.

I’ll open up one day that I tried killing myself last year, but that time isn’t now. “I signed the contract as a promise to

help Paz,” I say, which is partially true. “I’m seeing him again tonight.”

“So it’s a date,” Rio states.

“No.” Not officially, at least.

“But you like him.” Once again, it’s not a question.

Sometimes Rio thinks he knows how I think. He doesn’t even know everything about me. Everything I’ve done and everything I

can do, but I would be lying if I said Rio is absolutely wrong here.

“It wouldn’t be fair to say I like Paz when I don’t really know him yet.”

“You might not believe in love at first sight,” Rio says confidently. “But maybe Paz does.”

“Paz didn’t fall in love with me when he was about to shoot himself.”

Rio shrugs. “How can you know that if you don’t really know him yet?”

I’ve never had a real boyfriend, but sometimes it felt like Rio was my first. We were so infatuated with each other that my parents and the Moraleses didn’t believe us when we said we weren’t dating. I think we would’ve been amazing boyfriends before we agreed to only be best friends so that we could guarantee we would be lifers.

“I’m going to get to know Paz,” I say delicately.

“Then be careful that you don’t lead him on,” Rio says, bold enough to look me in the eyes. “I don’t want you turning up as

a corpse because you trusted the wrong person who wasn’t right in the head.”

Like his brother did.

I hate the suggestion that Paz will become dangerous like the Last Friend killer all because of his mental health. I remind

myself that Rio is only talking about Paz’s suicidal urges and not his borderline personality disorder. He doesn’t know about

Paz’s diagnosis, and he’s not going to unless it comes from Paz himself. It doesn’t matter that he’s my best friend. Secrets

belong between the person who owns it and the person they’re trusting to keep it. Just as Paz would be rightfully upset if

I talked about how his brain functions, I would feel betrayed by Ariana if she shared the secret of how my brain functions,

something I told her in confidence on Christmas Day in 2018 for the two-year anniversary of our friendship. Outside my parents

and my childhood doctor, who’s now dead, no one else knows, not even Rio.

“I’m going to be careful,” I tell him firmly. “Thanks for being a friend.”

“Anytime,” he says.

I hope he’s telling the truth. I’d hate to lose my best friend over matters of the heart that I can’t control.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” Rio asks. “I got two tickets for Universal Studios as a pick-me-up. That was before I knew you

were making friends on the Hollywood Sign.”

I ignore the dig. “That’s really generous. Let me speak with my father. Things have been tense obviously.” I also have legitimate

concerns about existing in a public park without any certainties that I would survive. “Universal sounds like a lot of fun,

though.”

We stand and hug while Bucky slaps our legs with his tail.

“Don’t get killed by the cute boy,” Rio says, kissing my cheek. “I want to see you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow isn’t a guarantee. I could be living my End Day right now, and that’s as unknowable as what it means that Rio’s lips

lingered on me longer than usual or what’s actually written in the stars between me and Paz. All I know is that I’m finally

getting excited about the future again, and I’m dreading my father getting in the way of that.