Noah reached for the phone with a heart that had momentarily abandoned its usual rhythm.
For a fleeting, foolish second, he had convinced himself that the caller would be Adam.
He imagined the man's deep, gravelly voice on the other end, perhaps offering a stiff apology or even just a curt check-in to see if he had arrived safely.
But as he glanced at the glowing screen, the name staring back at him was not the one he had been secretly yearning to see.
It was Naya. Noah's lips instinctively pouted in a sharp wave of disappointment, a physical manifestation of the letdown that settled in his gut.
Taking a quick breath to steady his emotions, Noah tapped the screen to call Naya back.
He knew his best friend was perceptive, and he didn't want any trace of his current melancholy to bleed into the conversation.
As soon as the line connected, Noah forced a cheerful, upbeat tone into his voice. "Naya, good evening!" he chirped, sounding far more energetic than he actually felt.
