“Okay,” I started, trying to think of something to lighten the mood. “You do realize men have biological disadvantages too, right?”

She gave me a flat look. “Like what?”

“Random boners.”

She choked on her Coke. “Blake⁠—”

I laughed as she coughed, her face turning red. “You asked.”

“I didn’t ask for that.” She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway.

I hadn’t realized how much I had missed that smile until now.

“We die younger, statistically. Higher rates of workplace fatalities. Higher suicide rates. More societal pressure to suppress emotions⁠—”

“Blake.”

“Hmm?”

“Cramps.”

I nodded solemnly. “Point taken.”

“Would you actually date a girl like her?” she asked.

“Like who?”

She gestured at the screen, where Alicia Silverstone was flipping her blonde hair dramatically. “Pretty, rich, fashionable…”

I tilted my head, pretending to consider it. “She seems high-maintenance.”

“You say that like you wouldn’t let a girl like that ruin your life.” Beverly scoffed, throwing a pillow at me.

I caught it easily, snorting as I tossed it back onto the bed. “Okay, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“If you could steal one outfit from this movie, which one would it be?”

“The red Calvin Klein dress. No question.”

“The tiny one?” I said, eyes widening. “That’s a napkin with straps.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not tiny, Blake. It’s chic.”

“It’s barely a dress.”

“It’s iconic.”

I held up my hands, conceding defeat. “Fine, fine. It is.”

She smiled, picking up a few fries from the plate and chewing slowly, as if contemplating something. “So… Arabic, huh? Are you, like, fluent now or something?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. Arabic’s not like Spanish. You can’t just pick up a few words and get by. It’s…complicated.”

Beverly tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in curiosity. “Complicated how?”

I rubbed the back of my neck, thinking of how to explain it. “Well, the alphabet is completely different. And the vowels aren’t written, you have to just…know them. And the way sentences are structured is all backward compared to English.” I paused, glancing at her. “It’s like learning a whole new way of thinking, not just words. But I’m getting the hang of it. I can read and write a little, and I know enough to not sound like an idiot when I’m talking to Jamal’s family.”

She smiled softly. “That’s actually really cool.”

I looked down at my hands, suddenly aware of how tense I was. “Yeah, well, it’s not just about the language, you know. It’s like a way of connecting, of understanding something I didn’t before.”

“I get it,” she said, her eyes softer now. “You should teach me some words sometime,” she added, her voice sleepy with the fatigue that had started to settle over her. She yawned and stretched, her body curling up into a more comfortable position. “I’m getting sleepy.”