July 8th, 2010: Thursday
He set the blue suitcase at the top of the basement steps, he climbed back down and snapped up his duffel and Phillies bag and brought them up, too. There was one thing he could not forget. Dillon ran back downstairs and entered his room again, then said goodbye to and petted each of his animals individually. The critters were his friends too, and he treated them as
A little over an hour later, they were almost at the Atlantic City Expressway, which they would follow for an hour at least. Dillon had Marilyn Manson's 'Tainted Love' at nearly max volume in his ear and just watched the world pass by. He vowed to himself that by the time they got there, he would be over
That exhausted him. He needed this trip. There was nothing that would stop him from his desire to make good memories to get him through all of this.
Tony was a fairly intelligent person, if he did say so himself. He wasn't a genius or anything, but he's competent enough to know basic body language. Dillon was almost imperceptibly hunched over and looked tense. There was a split second when Tony caught an expression he couldn't identify. It was very well hidden, but he picked up on it. Leave it to a teenager to hide the crazy shit that went on in their head. Tony understood; he was the same way. Still was
"The hell, bruh! You didn't say it'd be this C-C-Cold!"
Next thing he knew, Tony was jostled awake. He turned around and looked up to see Dillon with a concerned look on his face. The sun had dipped a lot as well, and it now looked like late afternoon or early evening. How long was he out? He was so comfortable that he didn't even remember when he fell asleep. When Tony flipped over to talk to Dillon, he felt a horribly sharp
Up until then, Tony was blissfully unaware of what Dillon was up to. Once he saw him take the pile of washcloths and drop them into the ice water, Tony was hit with the horror of what he
Dillon was hurt, very hurt. That hurt didn't compare even remotely