“I don’t want,” Richie said. “Not really. We were all together more than we weren’t—some new guys, like Vij, coming in, but…the gang, all the time, really. The Three Musketeers.”
“That was a while ago.”
“Fine.” Richie sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. “The Two Musketeers.” He was wearing argyle boxers, red diamonds with white lines on a background of blue, which had ridden up to flash extra skin. “That doesn’t make it easier. Three, two, one.”
“Nah. Two forever, no matter what.”
“It’s kind of like—” Richie pulled the underwear back into place “—kind of like high school all over again.”
“Except we’re old now.” Ben yawned, his eyes too heavy to keep open.
“Yeah, and all those people we said we’d keep in touch with, but didn’t…”
“Yeah.”
Richie got quiet again, so Ben let himself start to drift off. He was a good sleeper, blessed with an ability to just conk out as soon as his head hit the wrong end of the bed pillow.