| There's nothing like a summer storm (or a rash of summer storms) to make one appreciate the clear blue sys and fresh spring weather that only California can offer. Overhead the gulls glide lazily on the breeze, while below people make their way lazily around the boardwalk. Shops have opened their doors to invite the smell of the ocean in, while workers work to sweep away the piles of sand that the storm carried away from the nearby beaches. From Ricky's Ribs and Wings comes the typical loudly played music, the weekly top 40 playing for those who dare to approach the hive of teens and families that swarm it.
But Noah isn't at Ricky's Ribs and Wings, he's slouched at a table outside of Culture Corner, a half-eaten salad in from of him as he flips a page in his book. His phone is resting on the table next to him, though the English girl normally in his back pocket is nowhere to be seen. It's rare, but it does happen.
Within sight of Noah's seat, somewhat down the boardwalk, is a row of buskers doing their performance art for tips from passing pedestrians. There's a mime, a clown making elaborate balloon animals, a hip-hop dancing team breaking it down to a rhythmic song being played on a retro stereo... and as far from that as she can get, is Saya. Not far from her, but unrelated, is a violinist who's delivering a fair approximation of Beethoven, and Saya? She's doing ballet. Wearing battered toe shoes, a black leotard, and a filmy knee-length skirt. If one had never seen her out of street clothes, before, they might be surprised by how muscular her legs look, and how wirey her frame is - she may be short and thin, but she's also obviously all muscle, without an ounce of extra fat. Saya's dancing is quite accomplished for a girl her age, at once graceful and energetic, and there's a confidence in her aloof expression as well.
Occasionally, passers-by will stop and watch her dance, and stop to put a dollar or five into the little brass collection bucket she has in front of her space. There's always one rotten apple in the bunch, though. A man of about thirty years old stops to watch, and his expression isn't appreciative in the right way. He waves a $20 bill toward her. "Hey, there," he says to her. When she doesn't respond (too busy dancing) he tries again. "Hey, Chinkerbelle. You wanna come a little closer? Wanna work for it, huh? Me likey," he taunts her. "Make me happy long time," he suggests with a leer.
Tucking her phone into her pocket as she steps out of Culture Corner lets out a sigh only to drop into a seat beside Noah having spotted the boy just in time to keep from passing by first. "Why do people have to be so annoying sometimes?" she asks, the question clearly rhetorical. Lifting an elbow to the table she tilts her head against her hand only to roll her eyes at the man with the money. "And that's just rude."
Noah brows arch gently as he spots the man. "I know right." He responds to Ellis. He also seems less than inclined to stay out of it. There is one in every bunch. But this one is loud enough, and rotten enough that the teen climbs to his feet, taking his board and bag as he moves toward the couple. He also lifts his phone as he moves behind the man, side stepping to face the both of them with the phone. "Hey sir, we're interviewing local pedophiles for our local project with the Lantern Hill PD junior safety patrol, ran by my dad of course. So tell me, when did you realize you were a mentally ill? Has it effected your sex life? Statics show that 87% of pedophiles have almost 57 hours' worth of cheap pornography on their home computers and that a nearly equal number of them suffer from premature ejaculation. Is this true?" beat, "Oh, and talk into the camera. I want a good shot for the report."
For her part, Saya stops dancing once she hears the racial slur. There are a few moments where she's utterly still, glaring death at him, unable to think of what to say and extremely pissed off. And then Noah arrives. What he says to the man has her grinning from ear-to-ear, and she claps a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles.
The man turns beet red. And he turns and storms off - bystanders laugh at his exit.
"My hero!" Saya exclaims. She snatches up her tip bucket and does a fancy little dance move that ends with a whirl and her standing next to him. "Just for that, I'm gonna buy you a coffee," she declares. "Or something. Were you eating? Lemme buy you whatever it was," she urges. "And then I will talk you up to Amelia, so she knows what a great boyfriend she has," she says with a grin.
Ellis blinks as Noah sets off without a word, but then when he starts to speak to the man a smile slowly creeps across her face. Laughing she rises to meet the pair, Noah and Saya. "That was absolutely brilliant Noah," she replies with a grin. "Sorry you had to deal with him," added to the other girl. "But almost worth it for the look on his face? Almost."
Noah looks almost disappointed as the man rushes away, but Ellis and the small dance from the Asian help to distract him from said disappointment. He even blushes a little at Saya's ravings, ducking is head as his hand reaches to rube at the back of his neck. "It's okay. I don't like perverted creeps. No one should have to be degraded like that." He turns and heads back toward the restaurant with the girls, though he eventually glances back, "Oh, and I already paid, thanks though that's pretty sweet. But you can talk me up to Amelia. Puppy or not, we all know it's just a matter of time before I actually have to /actively/ date her." He's joking, which is mostly clear by his grin, but those close to the pair know that a flirty Noah is a thing of fiction. Some guys just don't have that portion of the brain. "But you can sit with us. Counter Culture's not bad. My dad has me on a zero sugar diet. Staying up for three days will do that to parents." Ellis gets a grin as well as he reached to turn her back toward their table, before it gets bussed.
"You have got to put that on YouTube," Saya says with another laugh. "Holy crap, that dude's face needs to be all over the Internet, seriously." She just beams at Noah. "Thank you. Really - thank you. I don't know what I would have done." Ellis gets a smile, too. "Thanks," she says. "I'm Saya - what's your name? Uh... I know I've seen you around school." She nods at the invitation and will join them at their table, taking her tip bucket and stopping to grab a duffle bag from her performance spot on the way.
Randomly, an older couple stops them. "We saw what happened," says the woman, squinting at them through prescription sunglasses. "Yeah," agrees her husband. "You know, we put three daughters through ballet classes - none of 'em stuck with it. But I think I'd have killed someone who talked to them that way." The wife nods. "You're a brave boy," she tells Noah. "Your parents should be proud."
"Really now? I didn't know your dad was able to sway you like that. Now if I were to say the same thing about me and my grandmother..." Well that wouldn't surprise anyone by the way Ellis says it. "Speaking of which, that would drive the woman mad don't you think?" Its a thought at least. Of course as the older couple stops them she quickly puts whatever might have come next to silence.
Must. Fade. Into. Background.
Noah could literally die as the couple stops them, and while he does the polite thing, smiling and nodding with a mumbled 'thank you', there's a very apprehensive and red-faced quality about him. The second they are out of sight, his hood is drawn and he sinks even deeper into the light weight hoodie he wears. "It's not a sway. Sugar messes with my head. And it makes me hyper and keeps me awake, and then I fall asleep leaning against the fridge." He sighs at the small confession, though he does slip his attention back toward Saya. "This is Ellis. She's crap at introducing herself."
Saya is kind of embarrassed by the old couple, too, but smiles at them until they're gone. Then she turns back to her two companions. "Wow, that's a long name," Saya jokes, grinning at Ellis. "You're, um, Donovan's girlfriend, right?" she asks curiously. To Noah she shrugs a little. "I don't eat sugar, either," she tells him. "Well, sometimes I do. If it comes in ice-cream."
Ellis hmms, "Oh, yes," she nods in reply to Saya's question. "Sugar isn't so terrible. Unless you're Noah maybe," she tacks the last on with a grin towards the boy. "But I'm sorry, yes, Ellis. You're a wonderful dancer, you must have been taking lessons for a long time..?"
Noah chuckles, relaxing some as the attention on them wanes. He seems even happier as the conversation slips to Ellis, allowing him to settle at the table and return to his salad. Or, at least return to his water with the occasional munch given to a remaining stick of celery. He only stays out for a moment. "Ice cream? I haven't had that in forever. I try to keep my diet clean..but I fail sometimes. I have a soft spot for coke." He pauses, "Cola, I mean. Sodanot like..COKE." Just in case she needs to that cleared up.
"Thanks!" Saya say, brightening at the compliment. "There's a lot I need to work on, but... well, I've been taking lessons since I was eight. So... like, half my life." She nods a little, considering that. "Wow." Her eyes widen at Noah's hasty backpedaling about which kind of Coke he likes, and then she laughs. "Dude, you're hilarious," she states. "I can't eat too much junk food," she admits, settling into a chair (have they really been standing this whole time?) and reaching into her duffel bag to drag out a light cotton sort of poncho thing, which she shrugs on over her leotard. "Gotta fuel up with the right stuff, you know?"
"I've taken a few lessons, but I'm not nearly as good as you," Ellis replies with a smile, only to shake her head at Noah. "I don't think anyone would have thought otherwise. Not coming from you anyway," she tease. Her phone buzzes and she fishes it out of her pocket glancing at the display with a sigh. "Ugh, well, have a good day," she offers the pair excusing herself to take the call.
Noah chuckles, blushing yet again for the billionth time this hour. It isn't until Ellis stands and exits so abruptly that he really relaxed. "She's nice people." He points out, leaning back in his seat. "You are good though. Like Ava good, or maybe better even." It may not mean much to Saya, but comparison to the future starlet is actually a very big compliment. "And you make me a lot less nervous, so there ya go." He lifts his drink to his lips, taking a deep sip as his eyes narrow toward a passing group.
"Bye!" Saya says when Ellis departs. She picks up the menu that was just now dropped off by an employee and looks it over. "Hm," she says, frowning in thought. "Yeah, she seems nice," she agrees, looking up at Noah and nodding. She blushes a little at the compliment. "Well, thanks," she tells him. "She's really good," she tells him. Then she raises her eyebrows. "Why does she make you nervous?" she asks.
Noah shrugs, looking back toward his phone again. Noah does not make eye-contact, which is easily apparent. "I dunno...Ava makes me nervous because she has no concept of personal space. Ellis makes me nervous because she's ... I dunno. Really friendly. But close to you kind of friendly, and she expects more of a reaction than I tend to give. But I like both of them."
"Dancers just do that," Saya says, reaching up to rub her forehead a little. "The no-personal-space thing. 'Cause all we do when we dance together is -- well, it's all really physical. Like, guys lift the girls up over their heads, and twirl them around and stuff, you know? You can't be embarrassed about that kind of thing - you have to get over your taboos about it. Sometimes we forget to turn our inhibitions back on in public," she says with a little laugh.
Noah looks VERY uncomfortable at the sudden revelation. "Oh..." he allows with a weak laugh. "Is that all. Just get over it?" He tries to keep it light of course, but there's no mistaking his doubt there. "Well..can dancers get over their taboo of being all up in the Noah bubble?" This is an attempt at a joke. One that earns her an apologetic grin before he shoves a slice of cucumber into his mouth. Anything not to speak!
"Well, you could just ask," Saya says reasonably. "I'm kind of careful about it, you know, outside of the studio. My parents gave me a lecture that is still ringing in my ears," she chuckles. "But really, if someone's in your bubble, just be like, Hey, could you give me some elbow room, please? And if they don't respect that, you know, that's just rude."
Noah nods, smiling, though the grin ends up directed more to his cup than the Asian. At least for a moment. "So you met Donovan? How'd that happen? He hardly does anything but work." This cues his curiosity at least, which returns him to his somewhat decent facade of normalcy. "He's a nice guy. He and Ellis are kinda good together."
"At the museum," Saya says. "I was staring at this huge, like, grafitti painting of this woman with hair, like, everywhere, and he came up and we started talking about the painting. It was pretty cool. He is nice." She orders something from the menu when the waiter comes up and hands it over. "Kind of wish I had a boyfriend," she laments. "But who has the time?"
Noah chuckles. "I'm sure you could have a boyfriend really easily. Or at least get dates, but I don't know what the big deal is. If I wasn't with Amelia I would just stay by myself. It's easier not trying to make sure I don't say the wrong thing to much. Luckily she's forgiving." He takes another drink, falling quiet. "+1's do take a lot of time though."
Saya looks kind of confused. "Well... it's nice being in love," she tells him. "Or so I've heard, anyway. Don't you feel good when you're with Amelia?" she asks. "I mean, otherwise, what's the point, right?"
Noah is quiet for a moment, "I guess so. I mean, I enjoy being with Amelia. I like for her to be happy. I have problems with emotions. Translating them. I don't understand people as well as I should. But I do know that I want Amelia happy, and being with me seems to give her that." Eventually he nods, "So yeah. I think so. It's nice." Yes, he did just go in circles.
Saya squints a little bit. "Yeah, but... does she make you happy?" she asks. "Like, I just think about my parents, you know. They're just so, um, I don't even know how to describe them. Like, serene with each other. They have these little silent conversations all the time where they just look at each other and they're in perfect sync." She pushes some hair behind her ear. "And they smile at each other all the time. Ew, sometimes I accidentally see their flirty smiles, too, and that's kind of gross." She makes a face and sticks her tongue out. "What I'm trying to say is... it's mutual. When you were talking just now, all I heard was that you like making her happy - but does she also like making you happy in return? 'Cause if not that's kinda messed up."
Noah shrugs. "I dunno. I guess so. I don't typically do things that I don't like." He chuckles. "My doctor says it's okay, and Amelia understands me when I explain it. But..yeah, yeah I like being with her." It takes much thought it seems for him to find the word happy. That eventually dawns on him. "I suck at explaining things." This is said with an almost sheepish glance toward her. "Sorry."
Saya's expression clears and she beams at him. "Hey, it's okay," she says, flapping a hand as if to shoo away any trouble. "As long as you two make each other happy, and you understand each other, then the rest of us can just buzz off. I'm glad you guys are so awesome together." She pauses. "But see... that's why I'd like a boyfriend. 'Cause they're awesome like that." She spies her food arriving and perks up.
Noah chuckles. "I'm different. It's okay. I'm not sensitive about it." He certainly seems okay with it. "But thanks..plus, you're really pretty. You want a guy, find one. You won't know if you have time or not till you try."
Saya blushes a bit and gives him an embarrassed smile when he compliments her. "Thanks," she says, looking down at the table for a second. "Know any good ones?" she asks, only half-joking.
Noah chuckles. "I don't really talk to many people." He admits with a small sigh, "But Amelia does. I bet she knows someone. And she loves meddling with people so that's right up her alley." A social butterfly with an antisocial boyfriend. "But hey, at least it's not me. Imagine having to deal with a too quiet, meditating, no sugar eating ex-delinquent." Again he smirks. "Actually, I'm pretty sure you're parents would die. I'm still shocked that her dad's are okay with me."
"Well, I'll ask her next time I see her," Saya says. "Right after I wax poetic about how awesome you were when you totally saved my butt, back there." She grins at him and starts to dig into her meal. It's funny how she eats - with a rather single-minded purpose, so the conversation will wane until she's had enough and has to take home the rest as leftovers.
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