I drain the last of my coffee, all of a sudden ready for something a lot stronger. “You’ll have to take that up with Jack.”

“There’s no way that man could handle both of us at once.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.” I take both of our empty coffee cups to the sink and rinse them before putting them in the dishwasher. Yeah. That’s right. We have a dishwasher.

Gemma marks a score on a final paper, then gathers all her numerous stacks and stashes them away in her bag. “Thanks for helping, Sade. This would’ve been a nightmare without you.”

“I hope I didn’t screw it all up and you don’t have angry parents calling to yell at you.”

She sighs, standing and stretching. “That will happen regardless.”

I open the fridge and pull out a bottle. “Wine?”

“Yes, please.”

I pour each of us a glass, and by the time we’ve gossiped our way to glass number two, Jack’s back with the sushi. The three of us sit around the dining room table, eating and drinking and chatting about nothing important. Jack seems lighter around my friends than he does when it’s just the two of us. The gang has already come over a few times to hang out, and those are pretty much the only times he willingly engages. Sure, when we actually talk one-on-one there are moments when it feels easy and natural, but our conversations are always short, and we still have our fair share of awkward encounters. But that doesn’t happen when my friends join the circle, and as I watch Jack and Gemma banter back and forth, it does something weird to my stomach. Like it gets all twisty and squishy.

Shit. I hope I didn’t eat bad sushi.

Gemma calls for a Lyft and heads home early, since she has to actually get up and go to a grown-up job in the morning. I hug her goodbye and stand on the stoop until she’s in the car. I make a mental note of the license plate number because, yeah, you never know.

Closing and locking the door, I head straight for the kitchen and another glass of wine. I’ve DVRed all of this week’s Bravo episodes, and I’m planning on climbing into bed and imbibing three straight hours of drunkenness and debauchery.

Jack boxes up the last few remaining pieces of sushi and stashes them in the fridge. “You know, if you want to watch TV or something, you’re more than welcome to use the basement whenever. I know it’s kind of my territory, but it’s just as much yours if you want it.”