The boy goes quiet, looking none-too-pleased. He's not sure what the balance here is supposed to be. His fingers curl unconsciously on the amulet, and he fidgets it between and around his fingers.

"... I need a smoke."

Yeah, that's really the accumulation of his reply right now.

He glances at the table, eyes catching — laptop. Not that he knows what the hell it is. He mostly just squints. Sue him if he focuses on all the wrong things; his life is crappy, so why not indulge in asking some weirdo a lot of questions? "What's that?"