Page 39 of The Last Person

“He’s getting up,” Mark says calmly.

My eyes flash to Brian again. Wendell is there helping him up, along with a couple of our other teammates.

My gaze cuts to the guy who tackled him, and I growl.

“Let it go,” Mark warns. “It’s not worth it.”

“Okay,” I say, putting my hands up. But only because Brian is walking over to the sidelines. Mark lets me go, and I jog over to where Brian is. “Are you all right?”

He bobs his head up and down. “Yeah. Just had the wind knocked out of me.”

Someone hands him a bottle of water, and he drinks a long glug.

I get called out to the field, and since I can’t do or say anything else, I simply hold my fist out to him. He looks at it for a second, then with a soft smile, he bumps it.

“Get out there and make sure we win the game.”

I nod and put my helmet on, ready for blood. I can’t make the guy who hurt Brian pay, so I’ll make the whole team pay.

Mark’s words ring in my ears.“It’s not worth it.”

But he’s wrong.

Brian is worth everything.

Me: Brian’s going on a date tonight.

Christy: Have you told him how you feel?

Me: No.

Christy: Told you you’re a dumbass. Tell him.

Me: But what if this is what’s supposed to happen? What if I ruin something that makes him happy?

Christy: If the roles were reversed, what would you want him to do? And don’t answer me. Answer yourself, and then figure your shit out. Love you.

Me: Yeah. Love you too.

Since Christy can’t not travel,she took off a couple of days after Christmas and is planning to spend New Year’s in London.

Because we had a game Sunday and then just had one tonight, Thursday, we get the next few days, including New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day off.

Sighing, I set my phone to the side. Brian’s in his room getting ready, and I’m sitting on the couch, trying to convince myself to dosomething. Even if it’s just getting up and going to my room. But I can’t move. I’m paralyzed here. Except for the part where I’m twitching with stressed-out energy.

Seeing the poetry book Brian left on the table earlier, I pick it up and flip through it, seeing if any titles call out to me.

Nothing really sticks out to me until the word love catches my eye.

I flip back to the page and open it, finding a poem entitledLove Is.

Love is your hand brushing mine in a quiet moment

And the chill that runs down my spine

Love is your presence beside me when I spiral

Calming me without you ever knowing it