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Alfie snorts, rolling his eyes at me. “You are. You said we were always bugging you when you were trying to work and turned off notifications.”
“Yeah. You never check it,” Trey whines. “So, we brought the party to you.”
“You mean, you broke into my house and convinced these two to come too.”
“It was a group breaking and entering,” Trey protests while the other two argue they had nothing to do with it. “We’re twins. We’re like the same person. I can’t go down for a crime I didn’t commit.”
“Fraternal twins,” I shoot back, flicking my beer bottle cap at his face. Trey knocks it away, wrinkling his nose at me. “That means the only thing we have in common is that our eggs got fertilized at the same time.”
“TMI,” Alfie complains, mocking a gag.
“Just because you’re scared of vaginas,” Trey mocks. Alfie mocks another gag.
“I’m not scared of them. They’re just irrelevant to me.”
“Back me up here, Mo,” I turn to him. “You’re a biologist.”
“A marine biologist,” Mo shoots back. “I’m not in this argument."
Alfie points his beer at Mo. "You like vaginas.”
“Doesn’t mean I know about ovulation cycles.”
“You know what an ovulation cycle is.”
“Because I listened in health class.”
“And also, because marine animals breed,” Trey chimes in, earning two middle fingers in his direction.
“Whatever. My idiot brother convinced you to break into my condo. You’re here. I haven’t seen you guys in forever. What’s new?”
“Mom’s finally convinced me to spend Christmas in Hong Kong with her,” Alfie sighs, lazing back on his sun lounger.
“Took you long enough,” Mo snorts, shoving his black, thick-rimmed glasses up his nose. “She’s been trying to get you to visit her relatives there for ten years.”
“It’s eighteen and a half hours on a plane with mymom. And there’s a stop in South Korea. She’s lucky I agreed this time.”
“Do you know how many meals that is in airplane food?” Trey shakes his head. “You’re gonna die, man.”
“Don’t make it worse,” Alfie whines. “This body is a temple. I think I will have a fast day for that flight.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Mo shakes his head, his black afro blending with the dark sky over the bay behind him. “You couldn’t pay me to take a plane ride that long.”
Mo has been terrified of flying ever since we were in middle school.
“You could pay me to do it,” Trey quips, grabbing another beer. “Sit there, eat, drink, watch movies. Sounds like the life for me.”
“How people pay you to look after their children will always escape me,” I snort. Trey flips me off.
“I teach gym class. No one is expecting me to be Einstein.”
“Why I am friends with three jocks will always escape me,” Mo complains, pointedly looking over his suit and the workout clothes the rest of us are clad in.
“I own my gym,” I scoff. “I’m a CEO, not a jock.”
“You’re a jock,” Mo shoots back. “Own it.”
“I’m a lawyer,” Alfie protests.
