“The kids’ table? I’m eighteen.”
“Your cousin Sarah is nineteen and I don’t see her complaining,” Mom says.
I huff out a breath and roll my eyes.
Sarah’s in college and brought her boyfriend to the family reunion. Of course, she doesn’t mind sitting at the kids’ table. They’re both totally cracking up about it. It’s a lot less of a joke for me when I’m by myself.
“When you’re twenty-one, you can move to the adult table where the wine flows freely,” Mom says.
I snort.
That’s a really easy way to make sure that when all the adults get drunk, they don’t accidentally give any alcohol to the kids.
Mom’s family reunions are crazy before the alcohol. Afterward, it’s like a weird rave with a bunch of dad bods and mom bods.
I look over at my stepdad, Bryson. He looks even more miserable
