"Take one puff,'' Oliver said pushing the cigarette my way. I winced away from it.
"No. I told you I don't smoke," I said. Oliver put the cigarette to his lips and took a long drag. The he let the smoke pour out from his lips. He leaned gently on the way closing his eyes.
"I need one," he mumbled. Even though it was dark I knew that behind his closed eyelids were light brown eyes. Oliver is very weird to me. He's so laid back when we should be on the watch right now. He opened his eyes and our eyes met.
"What are you staring at? Did you change your mind about the cigarette?" He asked. I broke eye contact and looked out onto the empty streets. It's scary how the streets are always empty.
"Never. Can we go home? It's boring and I'm tired," I complained. He held out the cigarette.
"Just take one puff," he said. I took the cigarette between my index finger and thumb. I stood up so that I towered over Oliver's lanky body. Then I flicked the cigarette into his lap. Oliver screamed and jumped onto his feet trying to get the burning cigareete off of him. I laughed and began to run. I could hear Oliver's foot steps from behind me.
Like messing with Oliver. It's fun and I like to hear him laugh. It's like my job.