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“Because?”

“Ma.”

“Let me finish for you,” she said, and she paused to swallow, squeezing his hand again. “He said I’m doing so well because I have such a great support system with my wonderful son and husband. If my memory is correct.”

“Well, we can’t always trust your memory, now, can we?”

She laughed lightly, just one huff of a laugh. Cass smiled and then sighed and leaned over to kiss her forehead, like he had earlier. She hummed.

“Now go take your quiz, and then I’m sure that boyfriend of yours is waiting for you to call him.”

Cass shook his head. “He’s not my boyfriend, ma.”

“Sure, sure.”

With a long sigh, Cass pushed himself back to his feet. Then he trudged down the hall again, slipped into his seat, and clicked through the online portal to the quiz, which was now due in only twenty-two minutes.

He glanced longingly at his phone before blowing out a short breath and getting started.

Ash (11:53 a.m.): I have a test right now

Ash (11:53 a.m.): I think I’m going to fail

Ash (11:56 a.m.): seriously I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been studying for three hours and I can’t remember a damn thing

Ash (11:58 a.m.): sorry

Cass (12:59 p.m.): I bet you ended up doing great, since you always do ;)

Cass (1:03 p.m.): Are you good? Can I call?

Cass stared at his phone, an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. Two hours had passed since his last message, and although it wasn’t entirely unusual for Ash not to get back to him right away, they’d planned to talk at one, on Ash’s break between classes. And it was unlike Ash to skip a call.

He sent another short text, a quick Hope you’re okay. Maybe we can talk later? And when there was no immediate response to that, either, he stuffed his phone back in his pocket and headed into the kitchen to get dinner in the oven before he and his mom were supposed to leave to go see a movie.

Worry continued to nag at him, however, even if it didn’t seem completely justified. He checked his phone again after the meatloaf was in the oven and again after he got his mom’s wheelchair positioned in the movie theater and then again during the end credits of the movie.

Before he started the car to drive home, he sent another message to let Ash know he was worried and to please respond in some way. And then he put his phone down, gave his mom a smile, and asked her if she enjoyed the movie.

At home again, he made the rest of their dinner—mashed potatoes and green beans to go with the meatloaf. Then he helped his mom eat, set aside a good-sized portion for his dad, and did the dishes.

After his dad got home around seven, and he was officially “off duty,” Cass gave his mom a hug, excused himself to his room, and pulled his phone back out.

Still nothing.

He sat on the edge of his bed and hesitated for only a few seconds before hitting the call button. It rang and then rang again and again. Ash’s voicemail picked up. Cass didn’t leave a message. But when he lowered the phone back down to his lap, it finally, finally buzzed with a text message notification. From Ash.

Cass clicked on it immediately.

Ash (7:08 p.m.): sorry today is not a good day

Ash (7:08 p.m.): i can’t talk

Cass’s stomach dropped, and he held his breath as he texted a short response.

Cass (7:08 p.m.): Are you okay?

Ash (7:09 p.m.): no not really