Dylan remains quiet on the long ride to down, thankful for Dan's silence as well. He huddles a little closer to the vents to absorb some heat as he begins to dry off a bit, though his hair still drips.
By the time they get to down, he was about halfway dry and finally warm at least. But as they pull up in front of the little cafe, he again had to make a choice. At least Dan was letting him decide what to do. But at this point, he didn't feel much like doing anything, whether it was going inside or heading out. Even if he did head out though, he'd have to hitchhike and it was still raining.
Giving Dan a sidelong glance, he watches him get out of the truck and go inside. Sighing, Dylan unbuckles himself but just sits for a while, thinking things through and trying to decide where he would go from here. If he went home, it would be a nightmare all over again and his mom and Ben didn't want to deal with him anyway. If he went back to the ranch, he wasn't really wanted there anyway and just caused trouble. If he headed out on his own, who knew where he would end up at. A few months down the road and they'd probably find him doped up again, or worse.
His stomach growls. Dylan's gaze shifts to the restaurant again. It was kind of stupid to pass up a free meal, especially if he would have a lot of walking to do. He finally makes up his mind and gets out of the truck, walking in the rain to make it inside. Looking around, he spots Dan off to the side already eating. Wandering over to him slowly, he sinks into the booth across from him, his eyes still aimed downward. He was still half wet, making him look just as miserable as he felt, if not more so.
Accepting a meal wasn't the worst thing in the world. He didn't like it, but he'd do it, knowing it was the smart thing to do this time. Not saying much other than to tell the waitress what he wanted, Dylan's eyes remained glued to the table as he remains quiet. Eventually he sheds his wet jacket and starts in on his hamburger, taking a little more time than necessary. Maybe he didn't even realize himself that he was stalling.
He wasn't sure what compelled him to finally speak. Maybe it was because Dan didn't ask it of him and it was on his own terms. Or maybe it was because he was at a complete loss and really didn't know which way to go. He'd made an awful lot of decisions for someone his age, but too many had ended up sending him down paths he never should have taken. Today he was doubting himself.
"I'm really not who they think I am," he mumbles, staring down at his plate as he doodles in his ketchup with a french fry. "To them I'm just some punk druggie who wanted to get that way."
He shrugs lamely. "I guess it doesn't matter though. Either way I wound up a loser so I guess they can just think what they want. The truth wouldn't matter now anyway since Dad hates me."
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