Maybe they don't (die at the end)

Part 2

Aimee Dubois

9:31 a.m.

Death-Cast did not call Aimee Dubois today because she isn't dying today. But she does feel like it. She had a sleepless night. She couldn't stop thinking about Rufus, imagining all the horrible ways he could've died last night. And now he's gone and she feels like she's dead herself. Her whole body feels heavy as she drags herself out of bed to go to the toilet. She's planning on never leaving her bed ever again, but she also doesn't want to pee her pants. So she gets up.

When she gets back, she checks her phone to find countless messages from Tagoe and Malcolm. Several from Peck too, but he's the last person she cares about right now. The only contact in her most contacted that there aren't any new messages of, is Rufus.

How dearly she misses him already, she even misses his nightly phone calls and messages from when he's drunk and texting her how much he misses her. But now she feels frustrated, because she's spent part of his last day being mad at him for beating up Peck. Looking back, Peck definitely deserved that beating. She's not an aggressive person, not at all. But neither is Rufus.

Well, mainly.

All of her thoughts lead back to him and Aimee is devastated. She misses him so much.

Rufus

10:07 a.m.

A honking car outside of the window of Mateo's room wakes me up. Wait- Mateo's room. We're still here, I'm still breathing, I check if he's still breathing and he is.

And I couldn't be happier.

The city is awake. We're alive, we did it, and that's all that matters right now. I check my phone. I still can't believe this. It's 10:08 right now, and the sun is shining through the windows of the room and everything is fine. We're fine. Man, I can't believe we are.

The light illuminates Mateo's face and he's mad beautiful like this right now, his head resting on my chest and all. He looks real peaceful. I know it's kind of creepy, but I grab my phone and take a photo of him sleeping, like I did on the train. I don't post it on Instagram though, maybe I will someday, but I guess I should tell my friends before randomly posting a photo. I run my fingers through his hair and kiss his forehead. I can't help but be so affectionate with him. I was with Aimee, too.

But not like this, this is different. Not different in the way that we've only known each other for such short time. It feels like the complete opposite. I feel like he's been in my life for way longer.

I kiss his forehead, then move down to his nose and cheeks and plant one last little peck on his soft lips before getting out of bed.

The apartment isn't that big, but I need to pee real bad and don't know where the hell the bathroom even is. I check the doors of the two rooms I haven't seen yet. I gently push the first door open.

It's another bedroom. His dad's room, probably. It's pretty empty. There's a double bed in the middle of the room, a night stand on either side and a wardrobe on the right wall. The blinds are shut and the bed is made. I smile to myself. Mateo is a very neat person, and I can respect that. I'm not that messy either, but I'm definitely not as neat as him.

My eyes land on a framed photograph on the right bedside table. I feel like I'm intruding, it's not my place to look at the picture after all. But I still pick it up, guilty feeling aside.

It's a photograph of Mateo, he looks about 6 or 7 years old and he has his school backpack strapped on his back. Probably his first day at school. I can feel myself smiling but I put the photograph back down and exit the room.