The sound of his name shifted Clint out of his head and he abruptly glanced up. Oh. Junior was here at the party. Cool. That meant Cass was here too. "Hey Squirt. Merry Christmas." He thought about asking if she was old enough to be drinking that martini, but he decided against it. He wasn't quite old enough to be asking Steve Rodgers like questions. But, uh, just how old was she again? He couldn't remember. Doubtful it was over twenty one. Probably somewhere around sixteen. Maybe fourteen.
"How's the party treating you?" He ventured after an obvious pause. Their last conversation had been about that Wicker kid going back to his home world-dimension thing. She looked fine now about it. Well, aleast to him. Maybe she was over it?