"Thanks--" she indicated the delicious cheesy burden they carried. "Well, it's an idea, the poetry reading I mean. Because of the rebuilding and everything going on, I think some of us need to destress and act like normal teenagers. It's, uh, it's in an over-21 venue though. Uh..." She looked around, shifty-eyes-style, and when she was sure they couldn't be overheard, she whispered, "I've got an ID, though. Do you need?"
Jubilee wasn't exactly a criminal mastermind, but from her time as a juvenile delinquent and mall-dweller, she'd picked up a few tips. Down in the Village in NYC, she had, a few months earlier, acquired herself a pretty decent-looking fake ID. They were a dime a dozen down there, and no one looked too closely at it.
"Or, you know, I could see if my buds at NYU could hook us up with a party, or...something?" Again, no criminal mastermind she, but like nearly every 17-year-old, she found herself at college parties on occasion.