For the millionth time since he started pursuing Beth Greene, Carl Grimes felt every shred of imaginary hopes he had being crushed to bits and pieces. Determined to stop him from his romantic efforts, Beth raised her voice to let everyone who had ears to hear her answer when he asked her out.

"…oh please, Carl Grimes. Don't you ever get fed up? For the last time, I will NEVER go out with you! Hell, I'd rather bang your father than you."

Cheers and jeers can be heard everywhere as Beth smiled with glee while Carl walked away sadly. Once more, Beth Greene proved to the school that she's the queen bee – and no one is good enough for her. Something's new though…

"You have a thing for old men!?" Amy caught up with her as she stopped by her locker to fetch some books.

"Uh… excuse me? I, for one, do NOT have a thing for old men. Please, Amy, listen to yourself." Beth retaliated.

"B-but the way you blew Carl off… You definitely said you'd bang his father. Y'know, Officer Rick Grimes is not exactly eighteen, is he?"

"You can't possibly think I'm serious, do you? I just said that to crush his hopes and stop him from pursuing me. But if you must know, it's not old men I have a thing for, but mature, hot men who can get my motors running, if you get my drift." Beth's impish grin was enough for Amy to blush like an angry tomato.

"Beth Greene! I can't—"

"Whatever, Amy. I'm eighteen, okay? Not a minor, anymore. And definitely not like, twelve, you know. You can have Carl, if you like. I know you're drooling over him since the second grade. You're a match made in heaven, though, since you're both babies."

Beth struts away, leaving a dumbstruck Amy with her mouth wide open.

"For the last time, Beth Greene, you are NOT going to that party!" Hershel Greene bellowed at his youngest daughter, his eyes threatening to jump out of their sockets.

"Say what you want, Daddy. I'm going! Zach is taking me. He'll take me home, I promise."

"You take one step out that door, and I'll—"

Too late. Beth is already climbing on Zach's motorcycle, speeding on to the misty night.