Head to Bronson's Liquors

You've been thinking about having a party and no party is worth having if you can't supply a little booze. Your mom has some wine and your stepdad has a few beers in the fridge. What you need is the hard stuff to make some cocktails.

Your little performance for Dan has earned you plenty of cash. One problem: even though turning 18 makes you an adult, you're still too young to buy booze and you don't have any fake ID.

Well, you think, you've always been a pretty convincing girl.

You add a little more sway to your hips as you walk up to the small liquor store and step inside. The door jangles and you see that it's Willy Bronson behind the cash register. He's a kindly old man. He has white hair and blue eyes that look big behind the lenses of a pair of old fashioned glasses. He's wearing some slacks and a sweater and sitting on a high stool behind the register.

You know Mr. Bronson's grand daughter. She's your age. You're not friends, you don't know her THAT well, but you remember she was an attractive brunette from your Algebra class by the name of Kylie. She was always a little shy and bookish, but her good looks made her popular with the boys.

"Well hello there, Joy," Mr. Bronson says. "You're up bright and early. What can I do for you?"

You hesitate. How are you going to get that booze? Should you try to fast talk Mr. Bronson? Tease him? Or give up and leave?