The phone rang and rang and rang, but there was no reply. So Hugh waited five minutes and tried again. This time, Callum answered.
"Dillon, I am busy. I hope someone died."
"Sadie style busy? Or, wait, sorry, Sharon? Sionnain?"
"Shut up. Her name is Susie and we've been dating for nearly, uh, nearly six weeks."
"Yeah. Like, at least – at least five. Or four. Or – wait, what do you actually want?"
"You'll be relieved to know it has nothing to do with girls."
Callum snorted quietly. "Look. I am not joining holy orders when you’re out of town. Deal."
"I'm dealing. I am dealing just fine. Except, my entire crew has copies of some slutty-ass picture of you on a purple. motherfucking. couch. They think it's very amusing. Oh yeah. And Trent's taken to calling you my boyfriend."
There was a long pause. "Oh," said Callum.
"Oh? Just oh? Callum, this is supposed to be on the down-low. This isn’t funny, ya know, he's my best friend and he's totally, totally fucking-"
"What? No! I mean, yeah, I mean no. No. I would have noticed. I would have totally noticed. Man, I love Trent like a brother. He's not interested in me like that." Hugh sucked decisively on his cigarette.
Callum cleared his throat. "Yeah, I get that, I do. And I meant to tell you, eventually. It's just, there wasn't really a good time, and then stuff got - complicated - and we, you know, and then. You know how it is. Right?"
There was a muffled thump and the line went dead.
"Hugh? Talk to me, you fucker!"
Swearing to himself Callum hung up the phone. "Sheila?" he called.
"Uh, I mean," he went on, and then added quietly to himself, "shit shit shit," then raised his voice again. "Susie? Sweetheart? I need to go out for a little bit. To, uh. Kelowna. Can you feed the cat?"
[even more TBC?]