When people started at him, his mind always defaulted to the worst case scenarios. Like... the fact that they knew something about his past that he didn't like to let on, or the fact that he was wearing his disorders like a sash of shame. Or something like that. Being stared at; feeling vulnerable like that... it wasn't a feeling he liked.
She was acting nonchalant... or maybe she wasn't acting nonchalant; that was the worst thing about socializing with new people. You couldn't read them yet and you couldn't figure out exactly what little conversational intricacies meant. If he was with Zach or Maddie, or even Charlie, he could figure out most anything from a couple of glances. But with strangers, it didn't work that way. With strangers, their intentions were unknown... he chewed on his lip and looked at the TV screen again, trying to focus on the game instead of the discomfort of the situation. But it wasn't easy.
Should he leave? Maybe he should just let her have the space here and go back to his room, write some or something. He had a perfect twist on the story now. The captain was someone like his brother; someone brave and tough who'd been through hell and survived. His first mate was awkward and shy, and there was a girl. A pretty redhead with curls and... Dillon hadn't really looked at her long enough to discern anything more about her.
Wetting his lips and trying to distract himself from the uncomfortable turn his thoughts had taken, he tried to make himself comfortable again.