Maya ignores both of us and continues scrolling. Her finger pauses over an action movie with a man holding a machine gun in front of an exploding building.
“That one,” she says.
I look at the screen. “You have seen it.”
“Twice.”
“You complained through the entire second half.”
“Because the physics were insulting.”
“It is an action movie.”
“That is not an excuse.”
“It seems to be for everyone involved.”
Omar makes a sound that might be a laugh.
Maya looks at him. “You have terrible taste too?”
“I have no opinion.”
“That is cowardice.”
“That is survival.”
She starts the movie before I can answer.
For the first twenty minutes, she says nothing. Then the lead actor jumps from a moving train onto a helicopter with one hand and lands without breaking anything important.
Maya sighs loudly.
“That is impossible.”
“It is a movie.”
“It is still impossible.”
“He is the protagonist. They survive unreasonable things.”
She turns toward me. “Is that what you think?”
“I think people survive unreasonable things every day.”
The answer lands differently than I intended.
Her look softens for half a second, then she looks back at the screen.
A flight attendant appears with drinks and a tray of snacks. Maya reaches for the almonds, changes her mind, and takes the pretzels instead. She sets them between us without asking.
I take one.
She looks at me. “You eat pretzels?”
“I eat food.”
I take another pretzel.
