“So, Drew, I came here with Susie, right?” Cecilia says. “But she might be too drunk to drive. She’s had like way too many shots of raspberry Smirnoff. Do you think . . . are people staying over here tonight? Do you think we could crash here?” Shoulder touch.

“You can definitely sleep here,” Andrew says, and Cecilia beams at him. I can practically see the hearts in her eyes.

I know he’s lost to me for the night, along with the rest of the watermelon Breezers, so I finish my drink and set it down on the counter, ready for the next move. We’ve been here before and I know my lines. “I’m gonna go find Hannah. I’ll see you guys later.” I wave and walk into the dining room.

Andrew chases after me, leaving Cecilia behind. “Hey, you can take my bed tonight, okay?”

“Aren’t you two going to need it?”

“It’s your birthday. You’re not couching it.” He grins. “Besides, we can take the guest room. Or the shower.”

“Please don’t put gruesome images in my head,” I say, hitting him on the shoulder in a not-so-delicate way.

“C’mon, there’s nothing gruesome about a shower. This isn’t Psycho.”

We discovered Hitchcock when we were twelve, stumbling upon a DVD of Strangers on a Train at the local video store. We watched it on the fuzzy TV in his basement, bringing down our sleeping bags to spend the night and pretending we weren’t scared. This led to a slew of basement movie marathons and the infamous time I peed my pants during The Birds. Now, whenever we see seagulls at the beach, or flocks of geese in the sky, he always says something infuriating about the air smelling like pee.

Andrew breaks into an impish smile, the corner of his mouth going crooked. He motions back toward Cecilia, his voice low. “Tonight, we’ll be Strangers on a Drain.”

“Oh, stop.”

“I can’t wait to check out her Rear Window, if you know what I mean.”

“I’ve got some birds for you.” I laugh, flipping both my middle fingers at him.

Andrew waggles his eyebrows. “Tonight I’m gonna show her my Hitchco—”

“My favorites!” Hannah crashes into us then, pulling both of us into a tight hug. “Are you guys seriously doing Hitchcock puns? If I didn’t love you both so much I would hate you right now.” Hannah’s grip is surprisingly strong because she’s been playing field hockey since sixth grade and has the muscles to prove it. A hug that almost hurts is a Hannah Choi specialty.

“Oh no,” Andrew says, pulling out of her grasp. “If you don’t think we’re funny, then who will?”