Keaton Plasse
Lynn’s jab was well-meant, and Keaton half wanted to say that she’d already finished what calculus courses she needed. Instead, she opted to laugh, raising a jello shot in a mock ‘cheers’ before squeezing it into her mouth. Whoever made them had taken liberties with the sugar to alcohol ratio, Keaton realized, swallowing with a grimace. Around four would get her to a good level. Thankfully, that’s exactly the number she had on hand.
Beside her, Lynn was beginning to talk to herself. She was tipsy already—had drank beforehand. When she pointed out someone she’d nicknamed ‘Fish,’ Keaton followed her gaze, giving the boy at the edge of the woods a wave and a smile. He looked rather standoffish, and judging by his expression, he wasn’t expecting to see Lynn here. What he’d done to earn his nickname, Keaton could only guess, though she was surprised Lynn knew him. From what she knew, Lynn tended to keep to herself. If that was changing, though, Keaton welcomed it; Lynn could use a few more friends in the world, even if just superficial ones.
‘Tall, dark, and blandsome,’ on the other hand, was a boy in a black coat, and his smile clashed with Lynn’s description. Was he Lynn’s type, or was Lynn trying to stir the pot and start the party? Given Lynn’s current mood, Keaton put it down to the latter, and she was thankful when Lynn announced that she was getting beer. Taking the tequila bottle, Keaton watched her leave, realizing that Lynn wasn’t a beer sort of person—that though she’d said ‘beer,’ she’d meant just about anything that contained alcohol. Lynn’s small stature had Keaton place her as a lightweight, but Keaton was revising that label on the fly. Lynn drank too much too fast to only be tipsy with her body of skin and bones, unless her metabolism—that was it. Her powers were at work here.
Amelia interrupted Keaton’s thoughts, her eyes sharp as she spoke. She knew Keaton and Lynn were up to something—had guessed it. But she had no proof. Keaton could lie. Throw her off, keep her out of it, safe in ignorance. But, Amelia’s powers were useful. As flighty as she was, being able to teleport was a nifty tool, and there might well be a day Keaton needed her help. But that day wasn’t today. Today,
tonight, Keaton wanted to relax and forget about conspiracy theories and her looming demise. Neither the Faceless nor Arianna were here, and—cross that. And that was exactly why Keaton wanted to indulge in the night.
“Sure, let’s meet up—tomorrow. Or whenever you’re free,” she said, grinning and raising another jello shot. “For now, cheers.”
The second jello shot tasted just as bad as the first one, but Keaton knew she’d mind the taste less by the third. If she got all four down and waited around twenty to thirty minutes, she’d have a nice buzz going. Add in some tequila and she might even end up a little woozy and giggly.
Eli piped up with a question, waving at the boy in black, and it took Keaton a moment to connect the dots. She was using her powers to talk to him, allowing her to reach him even at normal volume. It was amazing, really, how versatile her powers were. In many ways, Keaton was envious. So many people aboard The Promise had powers more fascinating, more complex than her own. Hers were useful at times, yes, but she couldn’t
do anything with them. All she did was think and know, and whether she’d even be able to do anything with what she realized was uncertain. When it came to fights, she was useless. Beyond useless—a living hindrance whose priority needed to be flight since fight wasn’t an option.
Seeing Lynn come back, Keaton pasted a smile on her face. She had time for anxiety later. For now, it was time to recall when she first drank and compare it with the others’. Amelia was pretty young, so her answer wasn’t surprising, and neither was Eli’s.
“I had mine my sophomore year summer, so fifteen. One of my friends raided her parents’ stores for our sleepover. Rum—I hated it,” she said, laughing. “Thought it was gross and didn’t drink more than half a shot, tops. I didn’t get drunk until my first party, though, which was… not great. Turns out even rich kids get grounded if they throw a party without getting their parents’ permission.”
She paused, briefly lost in her memories. Knowing that she’d likely never see her high school friends again, never get to finish establishing her college friendships made it all the more tragic. She’d done her best not to dwell on what she’d lost, but it was hard when she remembered how much she cherished her memories. How was Abigail doing with her new boyfriend? Had Lindsey finally gotten around to getting that tattoo she’d always wanted? And when was the last time Keaton had called her dad?
“When’d you have your first drink?” Keaton asked, looking to Lynn. New memories—that’s what she needed. She already had new friends and new priorities, so the hard part was done. The easiest part of the hard part, at least.
A familiar voice shouted Amelia’s name, and Keaton turned around to see Archie and Natalie arrive in all their homecoming glory. They were a bit overdressed for the campground, but it worked as a couple. They looked cute, and if Archie went lizard while drunk, at least Natalie would look great knocking him out. ‘More the merrier’ and all that.