But even the electronic beats of Calvin Harris couldn’t cover the sound. Eventually the two noises blended, creating a strangely soothing effect. He certainly needed soothing. Evan’s abandonment and the Warriors’ disintegration had birthed an angry beast within Duncan. Caring for Brodie was the first thing that seemed to tame that beast. Playing nurse didn’t come naturally, but it was keeping him sane. Later, returning from a mid-morning coffee break, Duncan found Brodie sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. His mop of dark hair was flattened on both sides, forming an off-center fauxhawk. “I dreamed the Desk-Hog Police were real,” Brodie said, punctuating his sentence with a yawn. “Two of them were here in my room interrogating me. ‘Is this bed available?’ they’d say, over and over. Every time I said no, they sat on my feet and whinged about calculus exams.” “Was I in the dream, sitting at the desk like in real life?” “You were, but the Desk-Hog Police didn’t care.
What do You think about Play On: A Glasgow Lads Novella?
