Page 15 of The Last Person
This is how best friends behave. They do nice things for each other. And I behave by showing my love for the people around me however I can. This is normal. I need to act normal.
“Come on. Let’s make the pizzas, then I have one more surprise for you.”
His genuine smile helps me refocus. I was hoping that living with him would give me some clarity, but so far, all it has done is made everything murkier.
“Time for surprise number two,”Brian says as we get comfortable on the couch. He flicks the TV on and turns to me. “You’ve been looking for a new show to watch and haven’t found anything. I think you’ve been looking in the wrong era.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re looking for recent shows. But I have a better idea.” He pauses before searching for anything. “There are three things my mom loves. Everyone knows the first two. Sundays spent with family and Thursday night crochet club. But the third isn’t one she owns up to as easily. She absolutely lovesDawson’s Creek. And the other night when you were talking about needing a show that would give you the same vibes as Jade’s books, I thought of how one of her couples reminded me of Joey and Pacey.” He pulls up the show. “So, I present to you your next TV show addiction. You’ve never seen it, right?”
I shake my head. I’ve heard of it, but who hasn’t? And I’ve also seen that Dawson crying meme a thousand times, but actually checking out the show never occurred to me.
I toss my legs up on the coffee table. “All right, let’s do this. I hope you know what you’re getting into. We’ll be watching this at every away game, and it’ll be our nightly routine.”
He smirks and goes to the first episode. “I hope you know what you’re getting into.Dawson’sis like a gateway drug to 2000s drama. From there, you’ve gotFelicity,One Tree Hill, and don’t even get me started on the reality shows of that time.Laguna Beach.The Hills. You think you know what drama is now…”
I gasp. “Is Brian Ackley secretly a melodrama lover? Admit it. You need it as badly as I do.”
He bumps his shoulder against mine. “It’s less an addiction and more of a strange comfort. In the evenings, those were the shows my mom would have on while she was crocheting or reading the paper or whatever. They made her happy, so they make me happy too.”
Yeah. That’s Brian. It’s not about the show. It’s about who he watched it with.
I reach over and pinch his cheek. “Aw, that’s so cute.”
He swats my hand away and starts the first episode. “Be a good boy and watch your show.”
I almost swallow my tongue when he says that. I’ll be the goodest boy ever for him.
Something unsettling stirs in my stomach. I already am that way for him. I’d do anything to make him happy. Anything to see him smile. I’d do whatever he asked of me and soak in the joy it brought to his face. And when he praises me for something? It’s possible I’m much farther gone than I ever considered. I’d live and die for Brian and his sweet, perfect smile.
What was that I said about being the problem? I don’t need to watch dramatic TV shows. I am the drama.
Which is exactly why I’m going to get lost in a fictional TV world instead of my own problems. Sounds like a healthy plan.
CHAPTER SIX
BRIAN
Poetry isthe start of my day.
Every morning before I get dressed or even leave my bedroom, I sit down in my oversized chair and either read or write poetry.
Any professional athlete will tell you that routine is essential to their lives, but for me, this part of my routine is essential for my soul.
My life is often rushed, hyper-scheduled, and loud.
This is my time for peace. To slow down and reconnect with where I am today—or where I’d like to be. What I’m writing or reading is usually an extension of that, and as I read through some classic Robert Frost poetry, my heart longs for the woods, meadows, and greenery.
The urge to grab my phone and research properties upstate—somewhere around Ida—hits me, but I stop myself from reaching for it. The second the phone is in my hand I’ll forget what I’m doing and end up doomscrolling.
This is about grounding myself.
I read a few more poems, then set the book aside, stand, and stretch. Moving on to the second part of my morning routine, checking in with my plant babies.
All of my plants fit in the window in my bedroom, so that’s where I’m keeping them. I’m planning to get some bigger ones for the living room. I just haven’t had time to get any yet, and it’s not something I’ll allow someone else to do for me.
“Rocky, you’re looking sharp today.” My lips twitch in amusement as I look at my silver ball cactus.
