Ben gazes around the party, his pale blue eyes taking in every detail. He’s leaning against the counter of one of his friend’s houses — a can of Coca-Cola resting in his hand.

Lights are dim, and the room is full of dancing teenagers. The smell of sweat and weed are present in the air, but Ben is used to it by now. He runs a hand through his shaggy hair, smirking softly as he eyes the crowd of teens.