Because if he allowed himself to really plant roots, and allowed them to grow deep, then it'd be that much harder to rip them out. This time was supposed to be different, his mom had promised it'd be different. They'd move to New Mexico, and that would be it, the very last stop on the road, there'd be no moving around anymore, and he'd be able to set down his roots then.
But now his mom was down in New Mexico. And he was still here in Pennsylvania, and there was the promise that she would come and get him when she was ready and his grandparents agreed that she was ready. And nothing had changed. He was still sitting around knowing that at any moment he would get the call that he was moving, so he still had to guard himself like he had been doing all these years. Like Xander said, it could be months. Until this recent blow, Milo at least had a deadline, he had the knowledge of when. Now he didn't even have that. Everyone was telling him it was a good thing, but it was the same as what he had before, and although he understood the delicate differences between the two situations, practically, for his daily life, they were identical. And how was he supposed to relax and let himself really build a life here when at any moment his mom could be ready to start their actually settled life? And for some reason, it felt like everybody in his life expected him to almost hope his mom didn't get it together and come back for him, like everybody else had decided she had run out of chances.
It was all too complicated and too upsetting for him to fully grasp, so he stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at his shoes to look Mr. Dark in the eye, "I--well, I'm interested, but it's okay, you don't have to show me."
"No, it is no problem," Dark replied with a slight shake of his head since he was holding Ivy's hands and therefore could not give the wave he typically did in those moments, "I enjoy showing my work. I can take you both out there after dinner."
"Okay, sir, thank you, sir."