Donnie broke again from his focused however manic state as he turned to Emily when she called back him. He understood why she might've felt the need to say it but he couldn't remember the last situation where anyone sincerely appreciated him. Maybe he did do what he did for her in a way? Kevin was a snobby douche, which was the worst kind in Donnie's opinion, and he was going to get what was coming to him eventually even Donnie hadn't done it. It always made him feel give those rich kids a dose of reality, that they didn't own the world.
He shrugged it off, seeming to lighten up a little bit as he replied, "Yeah whatever, thanks."
When the door opened and Kevin walked in with his friends, Donnie's first inclination was to get prepared to run. He scooted to the end of the booth and sat tight to the seat so that he could duck out quickly if they started charging him. But then after taking a good look at their overall appearance, he smirked and relaxed in his seat, throwing up his arm across the back of the booth. He was trying so hard not to laugh. What the fuck was he thinking? Why the fuck did he need to run? A couple of them looked like they could barely stand up, let alone walk.
A renewed since pride and power washed over Donnie as he watched them all walk out of the diner, and he could help but start to laugh. He calmed down as Emily returned with his drink, "It wasn't me that gave you the roofies. I always figured you'd come around on your own eventually." He grinned a bit and then sipped his root beer.