Darren didn’t get out of training until five usually, so Jayden tried calling at half past, but the phone was switched off. He decided against leaving a message, and lay on his bed editing his final essay for Byrnes before trying again at six, and this time, the phone rang. And rang. And kept on ringing.
“I don’t want to do this,” he whispered to the ringing, and then it stopped. “Hey,” he said. “Um, you’re free, right? I mean, you’re not busy, or…”
“I’m free,” Darren’s voice was a deep roll of easy vowels; for a moment, Jayden curled his toes into the duvet and smiled, a little twinge of miss you rising like a bubble in his chest. “Barely, though, five minutes earlier and I’d’ve been driving.”
“You just got out of work?”
“Yeah,” Darren said. Jayden heard a door bang and a muffled thum
