The sweetness is in the boy. It’s there for all to see. JJ asks him how old he is, and he replies that he is eighteen. Such a young boy to be working in an uptight environment. But when he talks, Oliver looks JJ straight in the eye, but there is wariness.

“Who are you waiting for?” “Nobody.” He looks to the floor. “Why are you still here?” “I don’t know.” And Oliver clutches the skateboard to his chest. “I guess I’ll get going,” and Oliver walks into the dark. A small, lonely figure.

And then Caitland rushes out and asks where Oliver is and sees him standing alone at the edge of the road. She rushes towards him and puts her arms around him. He drops the skateboard, and they embrace, but this is no romance, because it is a comforting hug that suggests that Oliver is not in a good place.

I’ve been watching in silence, and I tell JJ that we need to go. We get in the car and JJ says that Oliver reminds him of me. Cute and polite. I’m flattered.

As we drive away, I see them huddled together under a streetlight and it looks like Oliver is crying. I feel sad and when I get home, I write a message.

“Hey Oliver. There was something wrong with you and I talked to JJ, and he thought the same too. A bit of anger in those eyes. Hope all is ok with you. I’ve got a lifetime experience of fucking up, so I’m well qualified if you need a chat.”

I never send the message.