"Scotland." Van answered without hesitation, but then gave Brendan a sharp look. He turned onto his side on the rock and propped his head on his hand, looking down at Brendan. "I mean, you know. I just want to see for myself. See why they left me. Maybe throw something at them."
Van shrugged and reached for the blunt. He was talking too much and he knew it, but it felt good. Everything felt good. This was some good weed.
"You're half, right? Half... puke or whatever. Did you have your puke parent around to show you the ropes? Like," Van gestured, raking back his hair. "I mean, how to be what you are?"