Continued from [x] @foxespsu
"Well, Kent's like seven feet tall, so what's the difference?" Charlie snorts as he clinks their cups together, taking a long sip. Even if Kent isn't actually seven feet tall, his height is a big reasons why Charlie always chickens out before a fight can start. He knows he won't win. The Sinclair's aren't good at fist fights.
He just knows it'll happen before he graduates though. There's been too many close calls, and he can't run forever. He just hopes his face doesn't get beat in too badly when he does.
He's so lost in thoughts of Kent that he doesn't fully realize who's he talking to until he meets their gaze. It's been months since the banquet, including a summer vacation where he didn't even see Casy. It should be more than enough to be over them by now, but no, his heart still stutters in his chest when he sees them. He's just better at ignoring it now.
Charlie gives Casey a friendly smile and nervously runs his thumb over the condensation on his plastic up. "Pretty good," he replies honestly, because he is. "Everyone won, which is pretty wild, and it felt good to play a game again."
