He didn’t go to bed right away; instead, he went into what the kids called the “game room”. It was actually just the rear room with the television and the pool table, but Phillip’s collection of old video games also lived there. He didn’t have the drive to start up any of them right now, however, and there was nothing good on television this early, either. He flopped down onto the sectional couch and fished his cell phone from his pocket.
What would he talk to her about? Why was he desperate to hear her voice? It didn’t make sense. Neither of them had any real reason to contact each other, but they did. That contact had blossomed into a connection. It might have just been infatuation, it might have been something different. He didn’t know, and right now he was disinclined to care. All he knew was that now, he needed to call her.
The number was the most frequently-called one on his handset. Muscle memory had him connected almost as soon as he had flipped it open. “Hi,” he said. “No, they’re in bed. No. No. I know. It’s not about that, I promise.” He grinned, alone in the room. “No, not that, either. I just wanted to talk. Yeah. Well, it’s like this…”
The conversation lasted until his phone’s battery died.