Gemma holds her glass up to the center of the table. “We can say many things about you, Sadie Jane, but the one thing no one can disagree with is that you are one badass bitch.”

Nick meets her glass. “I’m not going to call you a bitch, even as a term of endearment, but you know I think you’re awesome.”

Harley completes their triangle. “We love you.”

I grudgingly hold up my glass, clinking it against theirs. “Can I please get drunk now?”

Two hours later, I throw my arm around Gemma’s shoulders as we stroll down the streets of Brooklyn, looking for a karaoke bar. How cliché can we be? Getting drunk and going to sing karaoke.

Nevertheless, a-karaoke-ing we shall go.

Harley begged off from the extension of our “celebration,” giving us hugs and jumping in a Lyft to head home. I’m 99 percent sure Nick wanted to peace out too, but he knows better than to leave drunk Gemma and Sadie to their own devices. So he follows along behind us, close enough to intervene should one of us fall into moving traffic, but walking far enough away to be able to claim he doesn’t know us.

“I don’t have to go to work tomorrow!” I scream at the top of my lungs, drawing amused glances from the poor souls passing us by.

“Teenagers fucking suck!” Gemma announces to the world as if we weren’t already aware of this information.

At which point, Nick catches up to us, grabbing my arm and pulling the two of us into the next dive bar we see. Which is a dive, but a Park Slope dive, so, you know, still hipster AF. “Gem, might want to chill with yelling how much you hate your job in the neighborhood where you teach.”

“But teenagers suck.” She sticks out her lower lip for half a second before beelining straight to the bar.

Nick sighs. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

Sticking my arm through his, I lean my head on his shoulder to comfort him. And keep myself upright. “I know I don’t say this enough, Nicky, but you’re the best. If you were like even a little bit mean, I might like you better. But that’d be bad actually because then I’d probably wanna bang you, and I don’t think I could bang you. Not that you’re not bangable, because you totes are. I just actually really like being your friend, you know?”

Nick gives me a bemused smile and a peck on the top of my head. “I like being your friend too, Sadie. Most of the time.”

We make our way over to Gemma, who has ordered us a round of shots, which we pound before immediately ordering another.