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him.
     
    “That can’t be all you want,” Adam argued with him. “I know you’re starving, Dillon; I heard your stomach rumbling in the aviary.”
     
    It was true. He’d planned on ordering more food than that but didn’t want Adam to pay for so much. “I’m fine with that,” Dillon told him quietly, slightly embarrassed to be having a pseudo-argument with Adam in front of a crowd people.
     
    “Can we get his hot dog and Coke?” Adam asked the employee. “And also give us an order of meat nachos with extra salsa and sour cream and another bag of chips, please.” The employee nodded and began filling the order.
     
    Dillon’s eyes widened. He really hoped Adam wasn’t ordering all of that food for him. “Adam…” he started to protest with a warning tone.
     
    “Hush and let me do this,” Adam silenced him quickly. Dillon shut up and began to shut down, because he really, really didn’t like the feeling of being ordered around. Dillon zoned out, his eyes zeroing in on the glass above the window.
     
    “Shut your mouth and get the hell out of here,” Dillon’s father yelled at an eight year old Dillon, who stood in front of him crying.
     
    “But, I’m hungry, Daddy,” he sniffled. He hated being shouted at.
     
    “I don’t care. Find something or starve. I’m busy.” His dad turned away and took another drink. Dillon knew he’d been dismissed. He opened the cupboard and found a half-empty box of crackers.
     
    Dillon took them into his room and shut the door silently. He didn’t want to get yelled at again. He opened the box and bit into one of them. Stale, again. He sighed as he ate them anyway. It wasn’t like he had another option.
     
    He wasn’t sure how long he stayed that way but was brought back to reality by Adam handing him some food and asking him to carry it to a table. Dillon’s heart was pounding as he tried to shake off the horrible feeling that came with his unexpected flashback.
     
    They sat down in black, cast-iron chairs and Adam unwrapped his hotdog, got back up, and went to the condiment station to dress it up. When he returned to the table, Dillon got up and went to put ketchup and mustard on his hot dog before joining Adam back at the table. Adam had set the nachos in the middle and was eating some of them, but he insisted that Dillon eat some too. He’d also given Dillon the other bag of chips. They ate in silence, because Dillon really had nothing to say to Adam. He was kind of upset that Adam was treating him like a child, but he didn’t want to ruin the day because it was honestly the best day Dillon had ever had.
     
    “What’s wrong?” Adam had concern clearly written all over his face.
     
    “Nothing,” Dillon answered quickly. A little too quickly apparently.
     
    “That’s a lie.” Adam called Dillon on his bullshit. “Dillon, please tell me what’s wrong. This is supposed to be a good day.”
     
    Dillon’s head fell backward, and he looked toward the roof of the tiny shelter they were sitting under. Dillon internally debated on whether or not to tell him, but he decided quickly that in his new life he was going to be more assertive and not let people make him feel badly like his father had always done. “I want you to stop treating me like a damn charity case,” he finally told him slowly, looking him dead in the eyes as he spoke. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and his stomach was churning so fast from nerves that it felt like he might throw up. He couldn’t take it back now, so he waited for Adam’s reaction.
     
    The anticipation was killing him when Adam didn’t answer right away. Finally Adam looked at Dillon, clearly confused and hurt. And didn’t that make Dillon feel like shit? “Dillon, I’m really sorry if I made you feel like that, but that was never my intention, I swear. What part of my gift made you feel like that?”
     
    “Honestly?” Dillon questioned and Adam nodded. “The whole damn thing. This morning