Page 74

4:35 p.m.

“You have a guest.”

I’m still waking up from my depression nap when Agent Dane repeats himself. It doesn’t make sense for Paz to be the visitor,

but I hold out hope anyway when I ask who it is.

“Mr. Rio,” Agent Dane says.

Of course it is. He’s been calling and texting since last night. I haven’t responded.

My phone has been on Do Not Disturb mode since this morning because I was overwhelmed with messages from associates checking

in on my well-being after another hate crime. This wasn’t so much a hate crime as it was an I-hate-you crime. That’s why it

would probably surprise many to learn that Paz is the only contact I’ve marked as an exception in Do Not Disturb mode in case

he needs me during this time of distress. This wishful thinking that he would ever want my help again is sinking me deeper

into my depression.

I get out of bed to go deal with Rio. Bucky shadows me as I make my way through the mansion, and he does a big stretch by the front door with his tail wagging as if we’re about to go for a walk. Agent Dane steps out onto the porch first, and Bucky runs outside, losing his mind when he spots Rio as if he didn’t see him two days ago. There was a time when I had this same energy for Rio.

“Hey, Buck-Boy,” Rio says, leaning over to pet Bucky, his balance shifting because of his oversize travel backpack. Then he

looks up at me. “Are you okay?”

“No,” I say. My arms are crossed.

Rio takes off his backpack and sits at the patio table, expecting me to join him. “You’re being cold, as if I’m the monster

that threatened you.”

“Paz isn’t a monster.”

“He’s no angel.”

“You provoked him.”

“You needed to see he’s still dangerous. You were so blinded—”

“I saw him in ways you didn’t.”

“What I saw matters too, . I saw him threaten to kick my ass. I saw videos of him ready to punch you. What I didn’t see

was your bodyguard tackling the shit out of him...,” Rio says, turning to Agent Dane, who is choosing to ignore him. “Even

though Paz was clearly a threat.”

In that moment it was Agent Dane’s responsibility to shield my body as if it were his own, especially since we were surrounded by a crowd of strangers who could’ve mobbed me. In no world did I believe Paz would kill me. Then again, I never imagined Paz would come that close to assaulting me either. I blame this on his unmanaged borderline personality disorder, which needs to be addressed, but just as I won’t share Paz’s diagnosis with my parents, this isn’t Rio’s business either.

“You shouldn’t have dismissed the pain behind Paz’s suicide attempt,” I say.

“He was trying to make himself sound noble when he’s just suicidal,” Rio says.

“You’re doing it again.”

“And you’re still defending him as if he’s completely innocent.”

If only he knew about how I should be called Death for the way I’ve made people grieve.

“My relationship with Paz isn’t your business, but now I’ve lost him because of you.”

Rio gets up from the table and steps toward me. “You can’t hate me for being your best friend who wants to keep you alive,

.”

I try responding, but he’s not done.

“You have so many life experiences, but even though your family profits off death, you don’t know what it’s like to actually lose someone.” His dark eyes fill with tears. “There are no words for how painful life is without Lucio or how guilty I feel every time I have fun or how often I wish I was dead instead of Lucio so Antonio would have a better big brother.” He squeezes his eyes shut, and the tears slide down his face. “It’s so hard to remember Lucio alive without also remembering his corpse with no eyes or limbs . . .” He shakes his head like that will make the memory fall out. He takes a deep breath before looking at me again. “Do you want to know the real reason I didn’t want to be with you?”

This is not where I thought this conversation was headed. I’ve always believed Rio didn’t have feelings for me. I wish I could

live in ignorance, but I have to know the truth. “Why?”

“You have always acted so invincible. I don’t know if it was because of Death-Cast or you thinking you know everything about

everyone. All I saw was someone who was going to get himself violently killed, and I couldn’t go through that again.” His

dark eyes become angry and sad and hopeful all at once. “I almost lost you, , and I’m so happy I didn’t.”

“It’s nice to have a friend who cares.”

He scratches his head and sighs. “I’m not doing this right.”

“Doing what right?”

Rio takes my hand. “I’m not some poet, but I want to be with you.”

This declaration might not be poetry, but I instantly recall the poet Alfred Tennyson’s elegy about his best friend, Arthur

Henry Hallam, who died suddenly: “? ’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all .” For all of Rio’s pro-naturalism and returning to the old ways, his solution isn’t to sign up for Death-Cast again so he

won’t lose me suddenly. It’s to live pro-naturally together, even if that means grieving me after an unpredictable death.

After Rio broke my heart, I would revisit memory lane daily, wondering how I mistook our relationship as romantic. It was hard to disprove this because all the signs were there that he liked me, at least according to my parents, his parents, Ariana, Agent Dane, and anyone else who spent more than five minutes observing us. We would go for the longest walks around the city, and whenever we had to go back to our own homes, we would video chat to keep talking until it was time to fall asleep. We took interest in each other’s hobbies, like playing his favorite video games or him doing deep dives into my daily fun facts. We opened up about our struggles in ways we never had with anyone else. Great friendships are built on these elements too, but I never felt like I was only getting to know a friend. I was sure that I was discovering my soulmate.

During a moment of vulnerability on Sunday, June 25, 2017, Rio kissed me.

That kiss was as transformative and inevitable as getting older.

“I waited so long to hear you say this,” I say.

My heart is racing as our bodies get closer, an electricity buzzing between us that I’ve grown so used to signaling a shift

from two boys hanging out as friends to two boys seeking intimacy as lovers. Rio smiles as he leans in, his lips an inch from

mine before I pull back.

“I’m sorry, but I stopped waiting.”

Completely moving on is impossible. I will always hold love for Rio whether I want to or not, but I have already survived

all the sleepless nights wishing he were there to hold me. Now I’m losing sleep over someone else.

Rio’s hand releases mine. “This is embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. This doesn’t change anything.”

“Is that how you felt when I rejected you?”

Every day was harder and harder. “No, but we got through that together.”

Rio grabs his backpack as if he’s about to walk away, but he stares at me. “I flew here for you. I was scared of losing you

and that’s happening anyway.”

This doesn’t have to be some self-fulfilling prophecy.

“You’re not losing me. I’m alive, Rio. I really needed a friend. I still do.”

It would be so nice to sit down and open up about how hard this week has been, like other times I’ve struggled, but Rio lit

the match that blew up my future with Paz. Turning to him now would be like if I asked my father to stop me from jumping off

that roof when he’s the reason I tried killing myself in the first place. Not that my father or anyone else knows this.

“It’s too hard to be your friend right now,” Rio says, turning to walk away.

It’s as if Rio is my Muay Thai opponent. My rejection was a back fist, but before I can block, he knocks the air out of me

with a knee strike. We’re both still standing but hurt. I want to put an end to this match.

“You’re the one who got so moved over the fear of losing me and now you’re walking away?” I ask, following Rio as he walks

past the fountain and down toward the gate. “Is this how you feel? If you can’t have all of me then you want none of me?”

Rio stops in his tracks and whips around to face me. “Do you really expect me to stand around and watch you fall in love with another boy?”

That’s the knockout blow that takes me out for so long that I don’t notice Rio is gone until the gate door slams shut.

First Ariana, now Rio. I no longer have best friends. Or Paz.

This is the most alone I’ve been in years.

The poet Alfred Tennyson wrote about how it was better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all, but I could

really use a poem about losing everything because of love.