Dale was feeling more...tangible lately, so the invitation to hang out in the part was more than a welcome one. At first, when his mother had put every waking moment under close supervision, he had protested it, even resented it. When his stepfather nearly died, he begun to welcome the isolation. He didn't have to put up a calm front for anyone or pretend that everything was okay. Toby, in comparison, wasn't afforded that luxury. After a loss, life had to go on. It was difficult to comfort someone who didn't want, or needed to be comforted. Sometimes, what someone needed to feel better was to feel like shit.
He rounded the concrete path around the lake to where he spotted friend. Dale's hands were stuffed in his pocket, one clutched to his iPad, pausing the song on his playlist with a swipe of his thumb. Though he rarely put aside his music sanctuary, even around people he liked, he did make exceptions. "Hey," he said in greeting, pulling the earbuds out before stuffing them away in his coat. "Did I keep you waiting."