A chorus of goodbyes came from the front room, and then a second round, and then Somers poked his head into the kitchen. “They’re gone.”

“Who?”

“Nico, Mitchell, Dulac and Darnell.”

“Did Nico and Mitchell leave together?”

Somers grinned, and one eyebrow shot up.

“No,” Hazard said, jabbing the neck of the beer toward him. “I am not jealous.”

“I know.”

“I do not care if they’re together.”

“I know.”

“I’m asking because it’s important to keep track of romantic associations within a friend group.”

“Of course it is.”

“Romantic relationships are potentially destabilizing. If things end badly, it could upset the social order.”

“Ree. Sweetheart.”

Hazard took a vicious drink of the Guinness and then said, “What?” He punctuated the question with another wild jab of the bottle.

“Come watch a movie.”

Somers waited for Hazard to join him, and then he squeezed Hazard’s hand as they went back into the living room.

“Ok,” Noah said, scrolling through the cable TV menu; the channel preview in the corner showed a young woman working diligently at an office job while dollar signs and question marks danced over her head. Hazard predicted some sort of credit card or payday loan commercial. “Now, listen, we have to make a serious choice. Really serious. There’s a lot on the line.” He paused, remote still extended toward the TV, and looked at them: “Die Hard one or two?”

“Goodnight, boys,” Rebeca said, moving toward the hall.

“Don’t even think about it,” Hazard snapped, pointing at her with the beer.

“Have a great time,” she said with huge smile.

“Rebeca, don’t you dare leave me alone with these two.”

She was already out of sight; from the hallway came a singsong, “Goodnight.”

“Die Hard,” Somers said. “The original.”

Hazard groaned.

“It’s the best one,” Somers said. “Two is awesome, but you can’t beat the original.”

“Thank God,” Noah said, dropping back onto the sofa, his goofy grin breaking out. “I thought we were going to have to fight.”

“What about you, Ree?”

“Abstain.”

“You can’t abstain. What do you want to watch?”

“The original.”

“He’s just saying that,” Somers said. “For real, what do you want to watch?”

“Hey, I thought we agreed we were going to watch one of the Die Hards. That was the whole point.”

“Yeah, but I want to let Ree have a say.”

“Die Hard is fine,” Hazard said.

“Great,” Noah said.

“Wait for it,” Somers said.

“If,” Hazard said, “you enjoy poorly conceived, poorly written, poorly acted, and poorly directed movies that are completely nonsensical and that are embarrassingly unrealistic.”

“There it is,” Somers murmured.

“But,” Noah said, glancing from Hazard to Somers and back to Hazard. “But . . . but it’s Die Hard.”

“Have you seen it?” Somers asked Hazard.

“I tried to watch it. Once. I got through about five minutes.”

“Emery,” Noah said, squirming to the edge of the sofa cushion. “It’s one of the best action movies ever. It totally revolutionized the genre. It’s got Bruce Willis, and it’s got Alan Rickman. It’s got evil Germans. It’s got explosions and that kick-ass scene with the broken glass. You’ve got to give it a try.”