No, they’re on hold.
You’re a silver lining kind of guy, aren’t you?
You’ve only just noticed?
No. It’s—
Don’t say sweet. Don’t say sweet. I finish my message with ‘nice’ and send it.
The journey is around 3 hours?
Yes, about that. Traffic is clear so far. Fuck, I’ve probably just jinxed us.
I’ll cross my fingers and toes for no traffic jams all the way home.
Home. London has been my home since I started uni. Five years. Leeds was home for the rest of my life before that—almost the rest of my life. The first twelve months don’t count because I was too young to remember them. Going back shouldn’t feel as strange as it does, but aside from my parents, everyone I know has moved on. My friends scattered throughout the country for uni, and none moved home. I’m not discounting Kyle, far from it, but I can’t rely on him to be there whenever I need a chat or a friendly face. We’re Internet friends, and yes, he’s sweet and texts me every day, but it’s not the same as hanging around together.
Thank you.
Have you got anything to occupy you?
I can chat with Dad. He’s listening to some really old music right now.
Define old.
The Clash, Deep Purple, Pink Floyd.
There will be some classic songs in that mix. ‘Smoke on the Water’ is wonderful.
I’ll take your word for it. I’m mostly tuning it out.
Heresy! You should listen. You’re trapped in a van with ‘really old’ music. Take the time to appreciate it.
You’re into old music?
Ahem. I prefer the term classic.
LOL. Okay. I’ll listen. I can’t promise to like any of it, though.
Keep an open mind. You might be surprised.
Hm, maybe.
What song are you listening to right now?
‘Another Brick in the Wall’.
Pink Floyd, I’m putting it on.
Um, why?
So we can listen together.
I bite my lip as I suck in a breath. That’s so sweet.
“Who are you chatting to?” Dad asks.
“Oh, just a guy I met online.”
