“I know, but look at how it turned out. Nearly everyone was fine.”
“How many weren’t fine?” he asks.
“Uh,” I say, swiping aside the newspaper file and opening the document that contains the list of people who were on the school bus. “Six kids died for real. And the driver. So, seven people.”
Matt scans the names of the kids and I do, too.
Tia Abernathy, Michael Dekas(X), Andrew Evans(X), Timothy Evans(X), Nathan Francis(X), Cody Frost, Marissa Frost, Joshua Hill, Tyler Hill, David Katz, Daisy McDaniel, Elizabeth Monroe, Anne Marie Patterson(X), Marcus Pitts, Chase Rogers, David Salazar, Wade Sergeant, Gavin Silva, Kelsey Stroud(X), Nicole Yang.
I look at Matt and see that he’s still scrutinizing the names.
“Your real last name is McDaniel?”
“Yes,” I say.
“We would have sat near each other at graduation if you didn’t change your name,” he says, dreamlike. I can tell he’s fascinated by the list so I don’t wipe it off the screen just yet.
“You’re a year older than me,” I say. “We won’t graduate together.”
“Oh, that’s right. I forget because you’re in English.”
“And if I didn’t change my name—if I didn’t die—I wouldn’t be in Omaha.”
There’s a pause in the conversation when I really want to ask Matt what he’s thinking despite it being probably the most cliché thing to ask a guy. When Matt still doesn’t take his eyes off the names, I open my mouth to ask if he has any questions. He beats me to it.
“Where’s Megan?” he asks.
“Oh, she was Marcus Pitts then,” I say. “She was born a boy. Her dad took the accident as an opportunity to leave them, mostly because he couldn’t take the transgender thing. After they moved, Megan’s mom let her wear whatever—be whoever—she wanted. She dressed in girl clothes from then on out.”
“But she was only, what, like five?”
“I guess when you know, you know,” I say with a shrug.
“Oh,” Matt says. “So are the X’s—”
“The ones who died,” I say, nodding.
“Were those kids brothers?” Matt asks. “The Evanses?”
“Yes.”
“And they both died?” Matt says, horrified.
“Yes.”
“That’s so rough. Their parents must have been devastated.”
“I’m sure they were.”
“I’m sure they still are.”
I glance at Matt: He’s holding his jaw in his right hand, and his forehead is distorted and distressed. His dark eyes are clouded over like a rainstorm. He’s affected by these people he’s never met. Maybe it’s because of Audrey, or maybe he’s just empathetic in general, but Matt’s reaction makes me question my own. I have to be honest: For all the times I’ve logged on and researched the program, I haven’t often dwelled on the ones who died for real. In this moment I realize that I haven’t thought of them much at all.
Have I taken on some of Cassie’s robotic tendencies after living with her all these years? Or is it just my developing scientific mind that makes me look at the program so coolly? Or is it the program itself? By teaching me that death is optional, has the program desensitized me to real death?
How will I react if Audrey dies?
Or should I say when?