Ava: Calling Clayton
A plate of mixed greens, topped with an obscene amount of sliced chicken and shredded cheese, is slid in front of me as I wait for Clayton to answer the phone.
There's a lot of sound in the background, and I can hear Vester shouting that I'm on the line.
Stabbing a bite of salad, I crunch at it, the sound grating against my eardrums as I wait.
"Ava?" Clayton's voice, usually so strong and assured, wavers with a vulnerability that catches me off guard. The sound tugs at my heart, a pang of guilt piercing through the layers of confusion that has settled between us.
I should have asked Lucas to let me talk to him a long time ago. He's probably been worried. He's too responsible and caring to have just let things go without wondering how I'm doing.
I'm a terrible person.
I never really thought about him in this time.
"Hey," I manage, my throat tightening around the word. "How... how have you been?"