2 kids

Fake IDs and sophistication.

Ashley.

It's inevitable there's something wrong with today's generation.

Sadly, we're no exception.

Standing shoulder to shoulder, literally touching, in front of the alcohol aisle in some small shop way too far from any main and crowded streets, I'm sure we're attracting too much attention. Thankfully, there's no one but us and a shopkeeper, who's an old man. Barely standing on his feet, barely making any movements, barely seeing and barely hearing. Somehow making me worried he'll stop breathing any second soon. Yet still working to his very last breath to provide for his wife. This system is rotten to the very core.

No one dares to break the silence.

We never agreed on abstaining from alcohol these following ten, now only eight, days, but getting wasted every single night isn't on the list either. A balance is required amongst teenagers. Though Ace's recent joke, or more of a suggestion, indicated otherwise.

Mae's the first to break the silence. "Are we really going to do this?"

The same question has been roaming my head the past seven minutes while Alex's thumb has been making soothing circles on the back of my hand.

Parker glances at his girlfriend, as if wanting to say, 'we've done it before'. I'm not doubting their non-existent innocence, but doubting my own acting skills. We've probably already revealed our plan by staring at the collection of alcohol bottles for seven minutes, instead of just grabbing what we wanted and paid. The poor old man is too blind to notice we're not twenty one, and too senile to bother asking us for our IDs. We could have already been on our way back, yet for some reason the wide range of bottles caught our attention a little longer than it should have.

"What's the worst that can happen?" Ace asks, rhetorically. "We'll get caught and in too much trouble, and probably grounded for the rest of our lives."

Slowly, one by one, we nod. What's the worst that can happen?

We really should have just grabbed the damn bottles and left minutes ago. I glance over my shoulder, at the old shopkeeper, who seems to be sleeping. I hope his poor heart hasn't given up on him.

"Excellent pep talk, Ace," Alex says. "You've got the ID, Ri?"

River's eyes immediately widen, as his head pops out of the perfectly straight line we formed. Shock dances in his eyes. "What? Why me?"

"You look too sophisticated to ever think of something like this. And I know you always carry the fake ID with you."

River's quiet for a second, then angrily cursing under his breath. "Goddamn old habits." Alex's just smirking, knowing he's right. "Too nice?"

Ace's eyes roll quickly, wondering like me why he's bothered by that. Though Alex's words are true. River's too nice looking to strike people as someone who breaks rules. Or gets convinced to accompany his friends on this reckless idea. That could have been over long ago if we'd just done what we came here to do. He's radiating a 'well put together' aura that's really hard to hate, a little mature for his age. He's the quiet, cute guy in the back of the library with a strange humour, earphones blasting music and reading classical poetry. And then he turns out to be full of surprises.

Alex nods. "No offence, mate, but you look too nice with the glasses and the white shirt. Perfectly well put together to buy a bottle or two, or three, or some fancy wine for a fancy dinner."

"You don't want wine," he points out.

A shrug of Alex's shoulders is all he gets as an answer before Mae speaks, "But you look really handsome." She smiles at him, as she adds, "Hot."