[center][h3] [/h3][/center][h3][hr][color=#38547C]Keaton Plasse[/color][/h3][hr]
Ten—that was pretty early. Really early. Was it surprising? Yes, in that Keaton couldn’t really imagine drinking at such a young age. Drinking around her dad only became normal once it came out that she drank; before that, it was sneaking around curfew and popping mints as she did her best to sober up before arriving home, but those were all late teens antics, not preteen ones. High school PSAs about alcohol affecting brain growth came to mind, the thought dwelling as Keaton stared at Lynn. If Lynn knew what she was thinking, Keaton would probably get a burn or two, but drunk Lynn didn’t seem as attentive as sober Lynn. Pity would go over her head, then, especially with Keaton’s poker face, which was honestly better when she had another emotion to distract herself with. 

In this case, the distraction was her other two jello shots, and she pulled a grin as she swallowed the second, the tang of vodka biting past the off-fruit aftertaste of the jello as she watched Lynn address Fish. Amelia and Eli weren’t as caught up in Lynn’s words as she was, though, and Keaton took a hint from them, downing her last jello shot and turning her attention on the newcomer, who identified himself as Gen, or Zack, with choppy English. Wearing a collared shirt to a campground party marked him as either a guy looking to get laid or socially awkward, and his marked hesitation as he introduced himself had Keaton place him as the latter. His bow marked him as some sort of Asian, east instead of south, so mixed. Black? Keaton did a double-take, looking Gen over. He was tall, but she was generalizing now. 

Lynn purporting that tequila would solve the language barrier made Keaton crack a laugh, though she sobered up as Amelia piped up about wanting the complete tale of ten-year-old Lynn and whiskey. Staying silent as Lynn fumbled with her cigarette, she watched, only tuning in fully when she heard Cara’s name. Out came Eli’s phone, and Keaton looked at Gen again, frowning as he spoke. How had he survived on the station without learning English? It was basically a mandatory class, and it wasn’t like Cara wasn’t a viable practice partner. Keaton herself had briefly considered learning some Spanish, after hearing Lynn throw it around, but she’d never gotten around to it. For Gen to sound like he was fresh off the boat at this point in time, well, he had to have either holed up in his room or—Cara’s tone. Cara had tones, and her tone hadn’t matched her words fully, didn’t tend to match her words when she had thoughts on the subject. Being on the receiving end of Cara’s penchant for subtly rubbing wins in allowed Keaton to place the tone, and she fixed Gen with a sharp look. He was understood English—had understood everything Eli and Lynn had said even before Cara started translating. He was lying, and Keaton, be it because she felt that it was her responsibility to vet people for Lynn or because she was beginning to feel the buzz of not really wanting to consider or care about why the antisocial boy decided to lie, had no sympathy for liars. 

“Hey Cara, how’s [i]Zack[/i]  doing in his English classes? Well, I assume?” she asked, flashing Gen a bit-too-wide innocent smile. If Lynn hadn’t introduced him, hadn’t implied that she’d be open to considering him a friend, Keaton might have cut him some slack. But Lynn introduced him, and he decided to lie. He was a poser, a fake, a liar who wasn’t afraid to take advantage of someone if it meant he’d be more comfortable. If he’d just told the truth instead of being a spineless idiot, maybe he’d deserve the name ‘Fish,’ but even fish had spines. 

The boy next to Eli stepped away, and Keaton suddenly realized that she’d managed to tune him out completely when she focused on Gen. Shit. How strong were those jello shots? She could handle a bit more, but they were hitting. Hard? Kinda. She hadn’t drunk anything in a while—a long while, now that she thought about it, and yeah. Okay. So she had to revise her drinking standards a bit. Big deal.

“Lynn, pour me some tequila,” she said, fully intent on directing the shorter girl back towards the booze table and away from the wannabe fob. Archie and Natalie were there too, along with Nic, now. Maybe if they all left, Gen could get what he wanted: some more alone time.