Timmy shrugs. “Tell him, not me.”
Brian steps into the room. “Hey, Avery—”
Avery sits up. The covers fall to pool at his waist. Stretching, he growls when he yawns. He doesn’t want to get out of bed just yet. “I got a call,” he says. His voice is an octave lower than usual and thick with sleep. “I heard you already. Who is it?” He hopes it’s Jacob, even though he doesn’t think he’d call this early. He hopes there’s nothing wrong.
Brian turns and walks away. “It’s for you,” he says over his shoulder. Like that’s a real answer.
* * * *
It’s not Jacob, it’s Parker, and something iswrong. Avery can hear it in his friend’s voice when he asks, “Have you missed morning service at all this week?”
Avery frowns. He’s in his boxers and an old T-shirt, and he’s cold. The hall advisor hasn’t turned on the heat in the dorm yet, and probably won’t for a few more weeks. Avery thinks he should start wearing long johns to bed.