Jo raises her eyebrows and leans back a little on the counter, “Gee, don't overwhelm me with your enthusiasm,” she says dryly. The tone might be sarcastic but her features have an element of puzzlement to them mingling oddly with her usual stubbornly cocksure expression. She heard Dean's stories the other day and, sure, they were drunk and all but he'd been bragging, been proud. So what's with the sudden someone-pissed-in-my-wheaties face? This better not be some chauvinist girls-can't-hunt crap.
“Sounds like you have it all figured out, anyway. So what, you're heading to California, hooking up with this aunt?”
He still looks nonplussed, is obviously holding something back but it's a conversational enough question. “Yeah, well, kinda,” she replies sitting forward again with her elbows resting on her knee, “I know she won't go against mom enough to come get me or help me get down there or, you know, advocating dropping high school. But I know if I get out there she'll help me out getting started. So I've either gotta save up enough for a car or find some hunter who'll take me along, which isn't too likely since apparently my mom ranks above monsters in scary,” she rolls her eyes and smirks a little, before nodding down at the patties, “What, you not hungry any more?” then goes on, contemplatively, “I thought about just hitching but I don't think I'd get out of Nebraska, most everybody around here knows each other so they'd probably just drive me right back home.” She rolls her eyes again and then hums along with a few bars of Boston in an absent way.