The Last One | Project Fear

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄

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The reception to the show is actually relatively all positive, which is a relief.

Of course, there are the skeptics and the people who don't like our format, but a lot of people have called Destination Fear refreshing in terms of ghost hunting television shows. I've seen some backlash against myself and how I handle my reactions, but I was also pleasantly surprised to see how many people rushed to my defense.

I haven't driven myself crazy with continually checking the statistics and the ratings. I knew that we needed to reach a certain amount of both before the idea of a second season was even discussed and I had made sure to tell Dakota to not fill me in or I'd drive myself crazy. I had a lot to focus on now that I was a full-time college student.

The semester is about three weeks from wrapping up, which means it's crunch time. I have finals to prepare for and final papers to write. I'm currently sitting at my desk in my bedroom, trying to write part of my final for my Intro to Magazine Writing class, but I feel like my head is going to explode.

The sky is already turning dark and it's barely 4:30 in the afternoon. I have music playing from my phone, allowing myself to have a little brain-break before I try to continue.

"She says, 'Yeah he's still coming, just a little bit late, he got stuck at the Five-and-Dime saving the day.' She says, 'If life was a movie, then the end wouldn't end like this, left without a kiss.' Still she smiles, oh, the way she smiles, yeah!" I sing along, spinning myself around in my chair. "She's talking to—"

The music cuts off but before I can frown too deeply, I realize it's because I'm getting a FaceTime request. My eyes widen slightly when I see Dakota's name flash across my screen. I kind of stare at my phone, unsure of what to do at this point. We've texted in the last few months and we obviously saw each other for our Kelly Clarkson interview, but the prospect of FaceTiming just seems so different.

I don't have much time to decide, though, so I take a breath and swipe the button to answer the call.

"Hey!" Dakota greets with a smile when our phones connect.

"Hi!" I say in reply.

Dakota squints at the screen. "Were you in the middle of doing something? You look studious."

I glance to the side at my mirror—my hair is thrown into a bun on top of my head and I have my reading glasses on. Nothing else about me screams studious, if I had to say anything about it. But I guess he's not used to seeing me like this, and I'm glad his first thought was studious and not, 'Wow, she's a fucking mess.'

"I was trying to write a final paper," I admit. "It really wasn't working out, so I was giving myself a break."

"Oh, good," Dakota says with a nod, his hand reaching into the frame to brush just under his eye. I catch sight of the bracelet I'd sent him for his birthday just a month prior—the same one I gave Tanner, except it had a bead of smoky quartz as opposed to onyx. I can't help but smile at seeing him wearing it. "How's college been?"