Okay, cool, his savior is coming in the form of a weird teenager, that's okay. Tim'll take it at this point, he just wants a moderately socially acceptable out for this situation and he's not about to give this gift horse a dental exam. Honestly? He had been seriously considering like gnawing off his arm or something to escape, so option B sounds like a much more appealing choice.

And, wow, this kid's almost as bad at the whole, like, talking thing as Tim is. That's some spectacular verbal diarrhea he's got going on, there. Certifiable running-at-the-mouth syndrome.

"Uh, okay, right," he says, and it doesn't take much to push him away because he's completely willing to be anywhere else. "That thing that we need to talk about, person that I totally know."

Once they're far enough away from the engineer lady-- and Tim checks over his shoulder to make sure that she didn't follow them, but it looks like the coast is clear-- he drags his hands down his face and makes the kind of relieved noise that can only be made by those who are finally out of an awkward social situation that they desperately didn't want to be in. Tim can convey some complex emotions in his exasperated groans, it's a talent.

"Thanks for the assist. I thought I was gonna be stuck there forever."

An introvert's worst nightmare.