“What do they have?” I ask. “Food, beer, liquor,” he rattles off sarcastically. I roll my eyes at him, but don’t hide my smile. “Well, since I’m only of legal age for one of the three, I will stick with food.” “You’re in Salem now, Skyla. You can have whatever you want,” he says with an easy shrug, as he takes another drink of his beer. “Surely the drinking laws aren’t different here?” I scoff. “They are when your last name is Parris, soon to be Putnam.”
