you guys had gone to Nevada for a couple days to visit his family. His family loved you and basically treated you like their own second son. One day you and Dylan went out to go shooting. You always loved seeing him drive cause of how his legs were toned (sorry if it’s weird). A little after shooting he got cocky and said I bet you can’t hit those three clay pigeons out there with this he held up a carbine repeater and sat on the hood of his truck with a smug smirk