Kavinsky stopped, a cracker poised near his mouth. He looked from the kitchen out into Jack's front room, sort of toward the television. People were cheering, but he didn't know who was performing at the moment, distraction spiked through him. Something tight and bitter was gripping in his chest.

"Huh." He ate the cracker. It took a second to put his calm together, but when he did, he laughed, crossing the kitchen to nudge Jack's shoulder companionably. "Yeah, I've had those kind of dates too, man."