"Me, neither." Beth smiles back. They can be the buzzkills standing around with soda cans together--it's not that bad a place to be, when you get down to it. It guarantees somebody's going to be sober enough to keep an eye on the camp. "It smells like paint thinner, anyway."

You try one kind of moonshine, she's pretty sure you've tried them all, even if this stuff is supposedly made from maples.

Having exhausted discussions of the weather and the booze, she realizes she has no idea who this guy is beyond he's new, he's an outsider, too. There's a moment's quiet as she regards him, and then, "My name's Beth."