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I close my mouth.

Declan is full on laughing now, trying to hide it behind his fist. He’s failing.

Okay, maybe I don’t really talk to girls that much, but I’ve never had an empty bed, and as far as I’m concerned that’s all that matters.

"This is a hate crime," I say.

"This is an intervention." Mason gestures broadly at the room. "We're all here. We all love you. But you’re a dating disaster."

"Hayden doesn't think I'm a disaster."

"Hayden is on the floor cuddling his girlfriend and hasn't heard a word we've said for twenty minutes." Mason points out, and I want to punch him in the face. Maybe I can and say it was an accident. I mean no one is really going to say anything about punching Mason. We’ve all thought about it at least once a day.

Hayden still doesn't look up. "I can hear everything." He takes a bite of his pizza.

"And?" Mason says.

"And nothing. Miles is fine." He turns to Mason. "You're deflecting."

"I'm not deflecting, I'm observing…"

"You've been observing since August. Which is interesting, Mason, because I don't actually remember you setting the world on fire last year either; you spent more time on the sixth floor than anywhere else."

Mason opens his mouth.

"Wait, I'm trying to remember." Declan taps his chin. "There was that girl from the law building. What was her name?"

"We're not doing this." Mason quickly snaps at Declan which makes me laugh.

"Katie. No… Kelly."

"We are genuinely not doing this." Mason tries to fight everyone now that the table has turned on him.

"She lasted what, two weeks?"

"One week," I say.

Mason points at me. "You stay out of it."

"Three days," Hayden says, still not looking up.

"It was a mutual…" Mason starts.

Trixie holds up the sketchbook. She's written, she blocked you.

The room absolutely loses it. Mason sits back and drags a hand down his face, and for a second, he looks like he's going to argue but doesn’t. He takes a long drink of his beer instead, shaking his head slowly.

"I hate all of you," he says.

"No, you don't," Declan says.

There’s a beat and then Mason looks at the ceiling.

"No," he says. "I don't."

That’s the thing about us: we can say things over and over again; we can make each other feel like shit, but we will always know, no matter what, that the other is joking.

***