A few minutes later, as the credits are rolling, Yaz’s phone goes off again.

“Oh, well this one’s cute,” she says. “Look at him.”

I lean toward her to see. “Nuh-uh.” I shake my head. “He literally says ‘not tryna date.’ I mean, I don’t want turn away users, but this is a dating app—why would he even want to be on it?” I roll my eyes and stand up, having seen enough of his shirtless beach pics. “You shouldn’t talk to him.” I head toward the kitchen.

She follows me, gaze still glued on her phone.

“I don’t care about that.”

I open the refrigerator door and squat down to look for the orange juice, wondering if that counts as my exercise for the day.

“I respect that at least he’s up-front about it,” she continues. “Most guys here think that, but don’t tell you until after they sleep with you.”

“What do you mean?” I pop up, looking at her over the fridge door. “Most guys are against dating anyone?”

“I mean, yeah... Haven’t you talked to a guy at a party and had him give you the whole, you-only-have-four-years-of-college-to-be-a-single-idiot speech?”

I locate the juice carton on the top shelf and close the door with my hip. I skillfully avoid looking her in the eyes as I head to the cabinet for a glass. “Um, sure.”

Lie lie lie, you know damn well the only guy you’ve talked to at a party was Robbie and you both were there out of spite.

I try to keep a good game face as I turn to her, setting my glass on the counter with a clank.

“It’s unbelievable.” She shakes her head. “Although, to be fair, I definitely know a lot of antirelationship girls here too. That’s why everyone is always complaining that there’s no dating at Warren.”

I consider this as I pour my juice. “I’m not sure if that’s true.” I set the carton down. “There’s a girl who is supposed to live down the hall, but is almost never here because she practically lives with her boyfriend.”

“Oh, but that’s the thing.” Yaz pulls a chair toward her. “I have a theory about this.” She sits backward on the chair. “People here are either basically married, or so committed to just hooking up that they act like they hate each other when they’re sober or it’s like, daylight, which I like to call Vampire Fucking.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s so stupid.”

“Yeah, well, you know.” She rests her head on the back of the chair. “They think if you go to dinner with them you’re gonna go all Gone Girl on their ass, or like start taking sugar pills instead of birth control so you can sue them out of the start-up fortune they plan to make.”