Night at the theatre

Part 18

I followed everyone with my eyes. They slowly all left. It was late and everyone was tired. So was I. All I wanted to do was sleep.  Get home and sleep.

"So did you have fun?" A voice made me jump out of my own thoughts. I turned to see Oakley. He was with his back to me. His eyes focused on the window. I could see his reflection. He looked serieus again. Probably how he had looked as he had spoken to me in the theater.

"Your friends are not the most friendly." I spoke truthful. I couldn't lie to him. There was everything in my body explaining to me I shouldn't. I threw a handful of cups in the bin. The place looked horrible. As if a a full festival had happened. I tried my best to clean a bit, but everywhere I turned it seemed to get worse.

"At least I have friends." He said. The strike was low. Even for him. I did my best to not let any muscle of my body get stressed about it. If he knew it annoyed me, he might strike again. I sat down on the chair I had cleaned. I had to give it to him. The chair he had was comfortable. I looked to find Oakley still standing before the window. He did not seemed too worried about the problem of all the cups. I pushed myself to talk to him. To get out of my comfort zone as many said. He was faster.

"Thank you." The words were soft, but I heard them loud enough. I looked up. He was looking at me. Not directly, but through the reflection on the window. I pretended not to see him looking. His thank you might not have been truthful. To me it was. For the first time in a long time someone had thanked me for helping them.

"You're welcome." I said in the same volume he had given me. I did still wonder why he needed my help in the first place. He could have asked anyone. Maybe he hated them. Or they hated him. I didn't try to hide a small smile at the thought. This was also one of the first things he was grateful for. I couldn't help but keep this as a happy moment.

"I should go home." I broke the silence. He was still standing with his back to me, but I could see he was stressed about something. I really didn't want to go. Something in me told me not to go home. To stay here for some reason. But I was tired. Oakley was muttering something under his breath. As he walked passed me I heard a bit of the sentence he was saying.

"..You can also leave, Your choice."