[He briefly thinks about just standing by the door, partly out of rebellion, and partly so he can escape quickly if the time arises because conversations are hard. But with one last sullen look at the exit, Scott shuffles his way over to the table and sits across from him, tryin to decide if he wants to just play things off or... whatever.]
...What kind of stories? [Scott holds back on any smartass remark, knowing that it's not the time right now.]
no subject
...What kind of stories? [Scott holds back on any smartass remark, knowing that it's not the time right now.]