Jeff kneeled in front of his phone, thinking of a message that he could text to Michael.
He knew he would need to work an apology into the message, in case Michael was still angry with him. Ironically, he now wished he had listened to Michael and never left the store with the ill-gotten tube of lube.
He used his tiny hands to punch the appropriate pads on the phone, but he had to study, then stretch, each time he typed a new letter for his message. The simple act of typing out a short text message took considerable time and effort.
He spent most of the time working on a sincere apology, then ended with a plea.
"Please come to the house. I'll be in my room. Please hurry."
For good measure, he added a smiley face emoticon. With only one thing left to do, he pressed SEND.
He waited, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of his phone. He kept track of the time on the screen. Four minutes after sending the message, a loud DING announced a reply.
He hit view but was dismayed by the message sent back from Michael.
"Tired. Can it wait for tomorrow?"
He hadn't considered the possibility that Michael might opt to not rush over to see him.
He tried to quickly type another plea, but it took him about five minutes to compose his few words.
"Please come tonight. I need you."
He pressed send again.