In My Rearview Mirror, JACK.HUGHES

TWENTY FIVE

MORGAN'S POV

"Give it back, Braden!" I whine, making my best puppy dog face while reaching out for my blanket.

"You don't even sleep with this anymore," he says, holding it up like it's some rare artifact or something.

I let out a laugh, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, okay, but like, it's my baby blankie, y'know? Had this thing since forever." I pause for a sec, thinking back. "Pretty sure I was still cuddling it when I was, like, 14? Maybe 15? Then I got a boyfriend and was like, 'Can't let him see this—too cringe,' so I ditched it."

I snatch it back and wrap it around my shoulders like I'm trying to hide from my own awkward teen memories.

He shrugs, all chill. "Nah, you should keep it out, it's kinda cute."

I roll my eyes again, smirking. "Cute, huh? Yeah, guess it's got some kinda charm." I toss it into the box labeled "mems" in my messy handwriting.

I glance around, and my eyes land on this ancient, dusty photo album. I blow off the dust like in those old movies and flip it open. "Oh god, brace yourself, dude. Pigtails and braces era. Peak cringe."

Braden cracks up, and we start going through the pages together, pointing out all the embarrassing pics, making fun of how awkward we were back then while stuffing more of my life into boxes.

And honestly? I'm low-key buzzing. Like, yeah, I'm packing up my life, but I'm moving into my own place in Brooklyn. It's giving main character energy, for sure. Fresh start, new neighborhood, new memories—whole vibe shift. Can't wait.

But, like, in the middle of all this hype about moving, there's this little knot in my chest. Leaving Ced behind feels... weird. We've had all those late-night talks, dumb inside jokes, and just... being there for each other. 

"You hyped for your own place?" Braden asks while he's wrestling with another cardboard box, tape screeching as he seals it up.

"Yeah, I mean, sorta," I say, my voice kinda wobbly, like I'm not totally sure about any of this. Like, yay, independence, but also... yikes?

He stops messing with the box for a sec, glancing up at me with that look that says he knows there's more to it. "What's got you freaked out?"

I take a breath and let it out in a whoosh. "I don't know, I guess... I'm scared of being, like, actually alone. I'm scared we won't hang out like we do now. And... yeah, scared I'll just mess everything up. Again." My voice cracks a little, and I'm annoyed at how real that sounded.

Braden puts the box down, and suddenly he's all serious. Those hazel eyes of his do this warm, comforting thing, and he goes, "Yeah, change is whack sometimes. But you've got us, okay? Ced and I aren't going anywhere. It's a new start, but you're killing it with your job and everything. Seriously, things are looking up, M."

I start chewing on my lip, trying not to let the anxiety show too much. But Braden sees right through me—he always does. He leans back, still watching me, and then I finally spit it out. "Will you, like, actually come visit me, though?"

His response is immediate, all confident and no room for doubt. "Pfft, of course! Who else am I gonna annoy? I'm your biggest fan, remember?" He shoots me that goofy grin that's impossible not to laugh at.

I roll my eyes, but there's a smile creeping up on my face. "Yeah, yeah, okay. But you're still a pain, just so you know."

He raises an eyebrow like he's about to challenge me, then suddenly swoops in, grabs me by the waist, and lifts me up like it's nothing. Next thing I know, we're both lying on the floor between half-packed boxes, my head on his chest, and I'm trying not to laugh too hard.