This isn't weird.

Dominoes

Indigo could tell from the sound of Tess's voice that she had been dozing when he called. "Hey, you," she greeted him with a yawn. "Sorry, I'm barely awake. Thought I'd try to get to bed a little early and sleep off the terrible fucking day I had."

"Oh?" Indigo was pacing his way slowly back and forth across the front porch; for anyone who knew him, it was a dead giveaway that something was amiss. Indigo was not a fidgety person. Any and all niggling anxieties remained, at all times, tidily concealed behind a wall of unshakeable poise. Alas, it had been shaken. "Did something happen?"

"Ugh, I bumped into—" Tess paused for just a fraction of a second and cleared her throat. "Um, just someone really fucking annoying this morning, and it put me in a bad mood. What are you up to?"

"I'm at game night," he replied.

"Oh, right, right." Her voice was casual, but subtly strained. Already uneasy. "Um... everyone make it out tonight?"

"Yes."

"Oh. That's good," she said without conviction. "Is everything okay?"

"Tess, is there anything you would like to tell me?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

He waited, silent.

"I have no idea what you're asking me," Tess insisted. "What is this about?"

Indigo ignored her question. "If you have been hiding something from me, this is your only chance to tell me the truth."

"What are you talking about, Indigo?" she asked again, growing panicky. "Did he say something?"

"He?" Indigo repeated.

"No, I meant—someone, did someone say something about me?"

"What are you worried about someone saying?"

"Nothing! I mean, come on, fuck, okay—look, I was minding my own business," she said. "He's the one that showed up and harassed me."

"Ben?" he asked.

"Yes!" she snapped. "I haven't said a goddamn word to him since—you know when. He just showed up this morning and started grilling me about Millie. I didn't do anything."

"I wasn't even aware you had spoken today," Indigo replied. "But I did just learn from him that Millie hasn't contacted him even once since she left. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

"Is it, though? You know all the shit he said to her."

"I do. And yet, as I recall, on the night Millie left, she was rather vocal about her desire to speak with him."

"Seeing her sister on life support probably put things into perspective."

"So much so that she needed you to be the one to deliver the message."

"Can you blame her?"

"It seems rather out of character for her."

"It was a long trip. She was too exhausted to deal with him herself."

"But she did ask you to?"

There was a telling pause before she hurriedly insisted, "Of course she did."

"Hm. She's refused communication with the rest of us as well."

"What do you want me to say, Indigo?" she snapped. "You were all his friends first. He broke her heart. It makes sense that she doesn't want any reminders."

Indigo let a beat pass in silence, allowing her one more chance to retract her claims of her own volition. She didn't. "Very well, then," he said. "I would like you to give me her phone number."