Honestly, Bobby wasn't expecting her to keep talking to him. He figured she'd storm off toward the bathroom or whatever girls did when they were in distress. Find her knight in shining armor perhaps? At the moment though, Bobby wasn't feeling very much like playing someone's Sir Lancelot. He glanced back over at her with a raised eyebrow. Maybe he'd been too harsh on her in his mind. Everyone had bad days every once in a while, right? He just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. After a moment, he nodded. "It's okay. I know how you feel.... or well... about the part where you don't actually want to be here anyway."
With a shrug, he gave the dance floor a sidelong stare, trying to discretely find his sister among the sweaty, grinding bodies. The thought itself nearly made him puke. He was going to make it a point to tell his mother how nasty the place was, and maybe next time she wouldn't let Stephanie go. Or maybe he'd be spared the trip at least. Knowing his mother though, she'd want him to go with her even more after that sort of confession. "I'm Bobby, nice to meet you," he replied, eying her stain once more. "It's probably going to take a lot more than just water for it to come out, but at least it won't be impossible to do it now. Tide with bleach ought to do it all right. Or I dunno. Probably better to take it to the dry cleaners. They handle that stuff all the time."