Serafina smiled, reminded of the difference in drinking age between America and home. She didn’t want to be gauche and didn’t say anything, because she heard the rise of embarrassment in June’s voice. However, there was little that she could say, anyway.
“Oh,” It was her turn to laugh in shared sympathy. “I’m a lightweight, myself. More than a glass of wine and it goes right to my head. But—” She considered. “If you take me to the bar, maybe we can find something we’d both enjoy.”
“Oh,” It was her turn to laugh in shared sympathy. “I’m a lightweight, myself. More than a glass of wine and it goes right to my head. But—” She considered. “If you take me to the bar, maybe we can find something we’d both enjoy.”