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" "Death-Cast isn't calling Orion because he's not going to die today, and I think I know why.
This night is unfolding like a photo shoot coming together. For once, I'm not the subject. I'm the photographer, and everything is zooming into focus, like I'm switching out lenses until I land on the best one. The background is still blurry, but if I adjust the aperture just enough, light enters and exposes the true model of this photo shoot. The boy with the constellation name. I've only seen some of his stars at work, but I understand the beauty. Orion is the focal point, so I stare at him and the sharpness of his hazel eyes and the hunched framing of his body, and once everything is aligned, just like stars in a constellation, everything becomes clear.
"You're going to live," I say. "Until tomorrow, I guess." "You're going to have much longer than you think." "So you got some psychic Death-Cast powers or something?" "No, but I think destiny brought us together so I can change your future." "I don't get it." "You don't need the waitlist anymore, Orion. I'll give you my heart."
Adam Silvera (born June 7, 1990) is an author of young adult fiction.
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"This is pointless," Tagoe says in the back of the cop car. He's no longer sucking his teeth or shouting about how he did nothing, the way he did when the handcuffs first went on, even though Malcolm and Aimee urged him to shut up. "They're not gonna find Rufus. He'll dust them on his-" "Shut up." This time Malcolm isn't worried about extra charges coming Tagoe's way. Malcolm already knows Rufus managed to get away on his bike. The bike wasn't there when they were being escorted out of the house. And he knows Rufus can dust the police on his bike, but he doesn't want them keeping an eye out for boys on bikes and find him. If they want him, they're gonna have to work for it.
"You can chill with us if you want," I offer. "Some company would be nice. You sure you don't mind?" "Hell no. It's not like you know anyone else in the city." "I'm actually very popular. My landlord is pretty much my best friend." "I can't wait to meet him," I say, which is just so damn bold. "He's actually the worst, but I'll have to have you over soon anyway," Valentino says with that damn smile.
All right, all right, all right- if this isn't a thing, then I'm giving up on ever making the first move again. I'm going to need a guy to swear on my parents' grave that he loves me, and I won't even tell him that those plots are empty so that he doesn't get funny and lie. But because Valentino's got me weak, I wouldn't need all that. His smile alone has got me cashing in.
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You smile and return to Franklin's body. Maybe he's not exactly a dragon. Maybe you're not the angel your client believed you to be. But this life is still one of your own design, and that's the way you like it. You roll the Trance seed around your fist, imagining what life you'll design for him next. Every name he's worn so far will remain good and buried, but he's in excellent hands with you. The world knows this. You'll make a new name for him. And no one will remember the old ones.