COLEEN
Hayden’s phone buzzed against my coffee table. We’d just come back from grabbing takeout, and he was halfway through demolishing a carton of lo mein when the screen lit up. His jaw tightened the second he saw the name.
I didn’t even need to ask who it was.
“Parents again?” I asked carefully, setting my fork down.
He gave a short nod, swiping to answer. “Hey.” His voice was clipped, polite but cold.
I tried not to stare, but it was hard not to catch the tension in his shoulders as the voice on the other end started in.
“…No, I’m not... Dad, listen...” He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing a little. “I already told you. I’m not declaring early.”
I froze, chopsticks halfway to my mouth. He’d never said those exact words to me, but the weight in his tone made it clear this w
