“Doubtful. I’ve seen Magic Mike and that’s not sexual tension to me. That feels like a performance of lust on both parts. The women in the audience are gassing the strippers up because they’re doing a good job. That doesn’t mean both parties want to have sex,” Joy says. “It’s like, uh, okay cool, you’re very fit and there’s your bulge. What’s that supposed to do for me?”

Malcolm bursts out laughing. He doubles over, holding his stomach, absolutely losing it.

“Why are you laughing? I’m being serious,” Joys says, unable to stop herself from smiling.

Fox has turned his face firmly toward the window, hiding his mouth behind his fist. Malcolm is wheezing now, crying for Jesus to help him.

“I thought we were having a serious conversation!”

“I’m sorry, but it’s kind of funny,” Summer admits, unable to hold back her giggles anymore.

“It’s not!” Joy’s mouth is slightly hanging open in performative shock. “I don’t get it. I feel the same way about people sending nudes. Like, the one time I tried a dating app on a dare, my inbox got flooded with dick pics. Why?”

Summer recovers first. “Oh, unsolicited dick pics are super gross across the board. But. Like. If I’m dating someone and I ask for it, that’s different. Then it’s okay.”

Malcolm has started staring into space. Every few seconds he almost loses the battle to another laughing fit.

“But why would you ask for it? It’s just a picture. I don’t get it. What am I supposed to do with that? What is that supposed to do for me?”

Fox comes back and says, “Use your imagination.”

“I’ve been doing that for fifteen years. I’m tired! I just want the answers! Give me cheat codes.”

“No,” Fox says, a mixture of frustrated and . . . embarrassed? Why would he be embarrassed? He runs a hand down his face. “I mean, that’s what you do with it. You use your imagination. Sexting.”

Joy watches him closely, processing what he’s said. Softly, she replies, “No.”

Malcolm loses it again.

“Will you stop?” Joy demands around her own pleased laughter. “Help me explain it to Fox and Summer, you jerk.” She throws a pillow at Malcolm, who catches it.

“Okay, okay. Wait, hold on.” Malcolm has to take several deep calming breaths before he begins. “Let go of the pictures for a second. Let’s say you’re with someone and they get naked. And then so do you.”

“Hold on, let me stop you right there—”