Kail hated these parties too. The attendees were always older, which meant many of them thought pinching his cheeks (he wasn't a CHILD any more, even if he did have the unfortunate sense to look like one) was acceptable, but then got weird when he wanted to touch their faces in return. So he was under strict instructions to behave perfectly which was hard, okay. It was hard to not do the things you needed to do. Wanted to do. Should do. Shouldn't do? WHATEVER.
Kail had actually won an argument with his mother, and got away with wearing some kind of designer-label cashmere-merino blend sweater in beige with brown slacks and polished brown shoes. But the point was, it was a comfy sweater that actually felt nice in his hands, and the slacks weren't so bad as usual, even if the shoes did pinch awfully, he could always take them off when she wasn't looking. Of course, he'd only won the argument so much - the sweater was tight fitting and the slacks hugged his thin legs, and she'd made him take his glasses off. It was the last thing he was currently peeved about, because it meant he couldnt' read anything, or even view small details well. Stalking (for that was the only word for it) through the hotel side corridors, he was off to their fancy suite to find his glasses.
She could only have hidden them in so many places, right? Caught up in thoughts, Kail was almost on top of Quinn when he noticed the older boy, but his attention was immediately drawn to the card house.
"That." He proclaimed. "That is really awesome."
And then remembering his manners, he stuck out his hand.
"Kail Cubrin, nice to meet you."
The (mono)tone of voice suggested this was something that had been drilled into him, rather than came naturally.
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