Page 19 of The Last Person
Where am I right now? In the shower. What else is in the shower? Water. Good. That’s good. Water is neutral. Rivers, lakes, the ocean. Even better. Ocean life. Fish. Seahorses. Dolphins. Whales. Sharks. Sharks mercilessly attacking and destroying.
Like we did on the field today.
Hey-o. I’m back.
I successfully make it through the rest of my shower without my brain wandering to places it shouldn’t be, and after getting dressed and a few questions from the press, Brian and I head to the family area to meet my parents, my aunt, my older sister, her husband, and their two kids.
We’ve barely walked in the door of the family area when I nearly collide with someone.
“I know you’re excited to see me, but watch the toes. I just got a pedicure.”
The screech of excitement I let out draws the attention of everyone in the room, but I give zero fucks as I throw my arms around my other favorite person in the world—my cousin Christy.
As kids, we were always close. Until I was eleven, our families did everything together. Sunday dinners, vacations, day trips—whatever. We stuck to each other like glue. When I was in middle school, we moved from western Pennsylvania to the northern part of New Jersey since my dad got a great new job there. We still saw each other in the summers, but not as much. Until Christy came out as trans when she was fourteen. Her dad threatened to throw her out, and my aunt—my mom’s sister—packed all of her and Christy’s stuff, and moved in with my family.
I’ll forever hate her dad for what he did to her. She’s so much happier now, living as who she was always supposed to be, but he never cared about that. Selfishly, I’m grateful that I got to have her by my side through high school, and we had the chance to grow even closer, but I’m not sure I can ever forgive him for hurting her like that. She’s handled it all with a grace I don’t quite have. Christy is as boisterous and charming as anyone in my family, but like Brian, she has a softer side that always made her my safe place.
She laughs and hugs me tightly before stepping back so I can get a good look at her.
The last time I saw her was six months ago. Her hair was pinkish-red then, but it’s a deep purplish-brown now. Her fair brown skin is covered in some sort of shimmery body lotion, like always. And of course, she looks fabulous. One of the things we bonded over as teenagers was our love of clothing and fashion. We used to dream of starting a clothing line together. Maybe we would have if our other interests hadn’t always won out.
Instead, I’m a meathead football player, and she’s a travel journalist and social media creator. She hates the term influencer because, as she says, she’s not trying to influence anyone. She’s trying to share stories and build bridges between people.
“What are you doing here?” I ask when I let her go.
She shrugs. “Thought I’d enjoy some downtime for a few weeks. I have some little day trips planned around upstate, but I wanted to be home for Christmas. Plus, I heard you have a new apartment that I need to see.”
Her gaze connects with mine. Right. I hadn’t mentioned that. Sure, it’s only been a couple of weeks, but normally, that’s something I would’ve told her right away. But I knew she’d ask questions. Probably questions I wouldn’t have been ready toanswer. Tonight, though, I might need some hard truths from her.
“Does that mean you’re staying with us?” I ask.
“You’re more than welcome,” Brian says. His voice is warm as he steps up next to me.
Christy wraps her arms around him, and it’s softer than the way she hugged me. She’s great at matching the energy of the person she’s interacting with.
“Hey, Bri. How are you?”
“I’m good. Minus the unfortunate circumstances of sharing an apartment with him.” He nods in my direction as Christy steps back, her lips twitching in amusement.
“I understand that. But hey, at least you don’t have to share a bathroom with him.”
“Says the person who tookforeverto do her hair every morning.”
“Like you’re any better. You’d be in there shaving every inch of your chest.” She looks at Brian. “He still do that?”
Brian bites back a smile. “No. He waxes it now.”
Both of them try not to crack up, but fail miserably.
“Ha ha. I’m always the butt of the joke.”
“As much fun as this is, maybe we should head back to Ryan and Brian’s apartment and stop putting on a show for everyone else,” Mom says, already on to our bullshit. Not surprising, given the amount of nights she and Auntie V had to yell at us to stop laughing and go to sleep at one in the morning. Once we start, it’s hard to get us to stop.
Brian walks over and hugs my mom, then kisses her cheek. “Sounds like a great plan, Jeanette.”
We make our way out of the room, Brian and my parents a few steps ahead of us, and my stupid, shameless eyes drop to his ass again.
I quickly pull them away, but the sly smile on Christy’s face tells me she knows exactly what I was looking at.
