Tyson blinked at her. Even if he had been planning on sticking around, it wouldn't have occurred to him to call. He was a street-kid. He didn't even remember the last time he'd picked up a phone to call anyone. Probably around the last time he'd called his mother, and that... well, it'd been pointless.
"Even if I had your number, what would the point of that be?" Tyson asked, "What would I say, 'Hi Bridge, I'm just calling to let you know I'm still around, but only until I make tracks'? Even I'm not that much of an ass hole."
He didn't respond to her remark about expecting sympathy. He never expected sympathy from anyone, and was frankly wary when anyone seemed to have any for him.
"No. No, it wasn't like that, okay?" He let out a discontent sigh, "Not with you."