Sean propped his elbow up on the table, chin in his palm.  He regarded the pretty blond thoughtfully.  "Doesn't everyone go through that phase when they're in their teens?  I can totally see you as a Goth."  He could, too; imagining her with severe eyeshadow, hair dyed black, wearing pseudo-Victorian corsets and lace conjured up an image no less attractive than the girl sitting currently on his left.  He had known a few friends who had practically worshiped the Cure, and there had been a brief period when Depeche Mode was on his permanent rotation.<br/><br/>"I think I saw a bottle of something that looked like rum in your bags when you arrived," he considered. "So I'm thinking that's probably true.  As for the restaurant thing, I can totally see that being in a restaurant gives you the urge to misbehave," he grinned, "but I can't see you ever preferring takeout.  You seem like the type who thrives on being social, going out with friends and so on.  So I'll go with that one."