Participants:
| Scene Title | The Kiss Heard Round the Roller Rink |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Simon gives Jezebel skating lessons and gets paid in kisses. |
| Date | November 17, 2008 |
The décor is exactly what one would expect from a roller rink. Disco balls spin from the ceiling, brightly colored beams of light splash across the basketball-court-size rink and are reflected in its smooth, oval floor.
Jezebel is sitting on one of the leather couches arranged not all that far from the wall of the skating floor. She's breathing hard. Perhaps she's already been out skating for a while.
Simon pretty much just got to the roller rink, which is why he's not even wearing his skates, yet. He's hanging around with a bunch of guys his age, most of which are taller and much more athletic looking. There is laughter, name-calling, and other general teenage boyishness. After a moment of this, all the boys except for Simon run spread out in little groups.
"Ok, guys, I'll be around," Simon says, watching his basketball teammates abandon him. A sigh escapes from his lips before he heads over to the couch Jezebel is sitting on. He takes a seat at the other end and starts to take off his shoes.
Jezebel smiles at him. It's a kind smile. "May you skate better than I do. I don't think my lesson did enough good. Do you know if inline skates are easier than traditional?"
Simon glances over at the woman and blinks a couple. He always finds it odd when strangers talk to him for no reason. "Oh, yeah, I think so. It's hard to turn in these things," Simon says as he lifts his skates up and waves them around a bit. "Did you fall or something," he asks, wondering why the woman was having a hard time. While he waits for an answer, he slips one foot, snuggled warmly in a blue and black striped sock, into the skate. The laces always takes forever, so he saves that for last.
Jezebel replies, "Oh yes, several times. I'll have the bruises to show for it. I think I need a pair of skates I can safely stop in. I apologize for being forward. I keep forgetting that this is New York City."
"Do you," Simon asks as his second foot finds its home in the other skate. The kid reaches down to start with the lacing, tugging the lower strings first, then the higher ones. "So you're from somewhere else then?" It's a simple question, delivered with a little disbelief. He does a quick job tying the first skate, then moves onto the second one.
Jezebel nods. "I grew up around D.C.," she explains. "In one of the better locations. We didn't have anything like this, though. If we had, I'd be much better on a pair of skates. I take it you've always lived here?"
Simon finishes lacing up his other skate, then pushes his shoes under the couch, where he will come gather them later in the night. "Yep, born and raised." He stands up effortlessly and wonders why people like Jezebel come to a place with a big hole in the ground. Where people are always so sad and buildings blown up all the time. He shrugs off the thought, though, and says, "So, strange woman from D.C. My totally awesome friends have ditched me for the night, so why don't we see if we can't teach you to not fall down anymore."
Jezebel grins. "You're on, big boy. My name's Jezebel, Jez for short. If I thought it was a good idea to run around much at this hour, I'd promise you a slice of Erica's chocolate gateau if you actually succeed." She gets to her feet with a moment's difficulty. "Lead on."
Simon blinks when he hears her name, but isn't about to make any kind of comment that would be out of line. That would be a job better suited for his sister. Instead, he just smiles and says, "I don't know what that is, but nothing chocolaty can be bad." That being noted, he shuffles forward to the opening of the rink and steps out onto it.
Jezebel follows Simon, stepping carefully until she reaches the floor. "My mother has an odd sense of humor. You have got to try the cake. It is so good. It even has a properly poured ganache on top, which I can never quite manage. Unfortunately, I'm sure the place closed hours ago."
"Don't worry about it. Some other time," Simon tells Jez as he starts to move across the floor, keeping to the railing in case his new friend decides she needs to grab onto something. "So it's easy, just push off with one foot and slide along." He exaggerates his feet movement for Jez to see, and it looks like the easiest thing in the world for him, as if he knows exactly how and where to place his feet.
Jezebel watches carefully, then imitates Simon. "That part, I can manage. It's the rest of it that gives me trouble." Jezebel appears to have good balance, but an utter lack of skating skills. "You should have seen us the other day. All four of us almost ended up on the floor at one point."
Simon looks puzzled and the shrugs, "I didn't realize there was anything else to it. Come on, let's get away from this wall." Simon grins and starts to move away from the railing. A swarm of people move around him and he seamlessly joins the crowd, weaving through a group of twenty-somethings to find an open space for him and Jez. "My worst moment was probably ice skating when I was ten or eleven. I fell so hard I had a bruised coccyx. Know what that is?"
Jezebel nods. "Yes. Believe it or not, I was working on a degree in biochemistry at one point. That bad? Ow." She skates to catch up to Simon, deliberately moving more slowly than he does. Perhaps she has trouble stopping once she acquires momentum.
Simon notices the trouble she's having and slows down a bit to come up alongside her. "Ok so if you want to slow down, just kind of move your foot out, but not too much or you'll fall. Forget about those brakes in the front, too. They're death traps." Simon watches her feet for a moment before looking up to make sure he doesn't hit anyone. It's been forever since he's skated, and he was never too good at it. Now, though…He wonders if all the footwork is a result of his ability. "What made you stop? Going after your degree, I mean."
Jezebel tries slowing down and actually doesn't fall. "Killer pneumonia. I had to take medical leave and coughed for four months after my doctor would let me out of bed. There's nothing like being that sick to convince one that something has got to give."
"Studying made you sick?" Simon grins and points off to the right, where one of his teammates took a spill and is being helped up by a couple other guys. "Don't tell them that. They'll use the excuse every chance they get." He smirks and continues skating, and as the come onto a turn, he moves one foot over the other to skate in a steady arc.
Jezebel does her best to imitate Simon, but leans into the turn a little. "I was doing too much. I was going to protest rallies, going to school, had a very consuming hobby and still got out every once in a while. Looking back, I probably should have gotten sick earlier."
"Well, everything happens for a reason. I'm sure you probably already know that, though," Simon says as they make it to the next straightaway. The DJ seems to have a change of heart, switching from some terrible reggaeton to an 80's remix. "Now this is more like it," the teen exclaims, bouncing a bit to the beat. "So tell me more about this consuming hobby of yours."
Jezebel chuckles. "I garden. Thank God I don't have pollen allergies. Also, I cook, I read, I used to play computer games. I'd still be playing Spore if my laptop could handle the graphics. Trust me, I was doing too much."
Simon thinks on this for a moment and ends up shaking his head. "Nuh-uh. There has to be more to it than that. I mean who chooses gardening over school. Not that gardening isn't cool," Simon lifts his hands defensively in the air before continuing, "But you could have always taken it up again after finishing school."
Jezebel replies, "I swear it wasn't anything illegal. Perhaps I should have cut out the political activism, but I just couldn't. The situation's too dire. I'm up here looking for distant relatives. Maybe the search will keep me out of trouble."
Simon peers at the woman for a moment, distrustful of her enigmatic story, but just shrugs in the end. "You have to do what you love, I guess. How about this family? Maybe I know them?" He has been living in the city ever since he was born. Anything is possible.
Jezebel thinks for a minute, then answers, "Maybe. Ever hear of an Eric Mas? He is, or was, a mechanic. I've found my half-sister, but even she doesn't know where he is at the moment."
Simon shakes his head as he and Jez bear down on a couple who really can't skate. Simon parries to the left and moves around them. "Never heard of him, sorry. I'll keep my ear to the ground for you, though. Family is important."
Jezebel just barely manages to pass the couple on the right. She has to catch up to Simon again before she can tell him, "I'd appreciate that, awesome skater. I fear I've managed to completely forget your name. Remind me to give you my cell number."
Simon grins and jumps in the air, doing a complete 180 and landing once again with ease. Looks like he can do more than just hit a bullseye from across a bar. The discovery amuses him, but he doesn't let that forget the woman he's skating with. "I don't think I gave it to you. I'm Simon," he says, before turning back around because skating backwards is tough.
Jezebel says between much less impressive moves, "I'm pleased to meet you, Simon. I take it you skate a lot? That move's tough on ice. It can't be much easier out here."
"Oh yeah. I skate all the time," Simon lies as he continues to skate on. "Like you garden, most likely. Also, I'm pleased to meet you as well. You are actually not a complete douchebag like all the other people I've been running into lately."
Jezebel blushes a little at Simon's language. "Thank you, I think. I'm sorry to hear you've been running into a bunch of jerks. Do you want to talk, or forget the whole thing? I'd offer you the protection of a biker gang, but I don't belong to one."
Simon laughs and give a nod, "Yeah, I kind of figured that. You don't seem like the biker type." The music changes to something upbeat and Simon starts to get into a little bit of dance-skating. "There's nothing to talk about. People are just jerks and stalkers and probably murderers, too. Just turn on the news."
Jezebel makes a face. "No thanks, I've read too much of the news lately. Hah, I fooled you. My Harley's in the parking lot. I can't quite follow what you're doing with your feet, Simon."
"Seriously? You have a hog? I stand corrected," Simon says, clearly impressed. "Oh and don't worry, you don't want to. For some reason people think dancing is embarrassing." Especially when you skate-dance to the B-52's. "Mostly though, I'm just making this up as I go along."
Jezebel comments between humming bits of 'Planet Claire', "You're doing a very good job of that. My mother gave me the hog for my sixteenth birthday. Sometimes I think she should have been named Jezebel."
"That's the best gift ever. No joke. Your mom rocks," Simon tells Jez as he slows his dancing down. He doesn't want it to become too overbearing. "My mom gave me these shirts for my sixteenth birthday." He's wearing one tonight, actually, though he doesn't mention that.
Jezebel beams. "I'll tell her that next time I call her. Mind, I don't get that lucky every birthday. Sometimes they give me clothes, too."
"Yeah, I hear you," Simon says, effectively ending his part in this particular conversation. Thinking about his parents never ends well, so he tries to keep it to a minimum in public. "So you're getting pretty good at this skating thing. I think you've got the hang of it."
Jezebel grins. "Really? I'll have to show off in front of my sister, then. How would you like to make your friends over there jealous?"
Simon raises a brow and turns to see some of his teammates goofing off like the jerks they all generally are. Kenny is alright, but even he can be obnoxious just to fit in. He turns back to Jez a moment later and says, "I think I'd like it. What do you have in mind?"
Jezebel grins wickedly and heads for one of the couches, beckoning poor, innocent Simon.
Simon starts to skate over to the couches as well, following Jezebel, possibly to his doom or eminent embarrassment. As he passes his friends, he turns to give them the stink eye, and gets about five in return. Then, soon enough, he's by the couch where his shoes are. "Ok, have your way with me," he jokes, spreading his arms wide.
Jezebel leans right into Simon's arms, tries to get her arms around his neck, then tries to suck his lungs out through his trachea. Assuming Simon doesn't fight it, of course.
Simon wasn't actually expecting all of this, and he's obviously caught off guard because his eyes bug out of his head and his hands remain stretched out for a moment. He doesn't fight, though, and instead gives in by wrapping his arms around the Jez, who must not know that he's only seventeen. The basketball team starts to hoot and holler in the background, for good or for bad.
Jezebel gives Simon a bit of an extra hug when she breaks off the kiss, along with a wicked smile and a wink. "There," she whispers, "you can go tell all your friends that you got kissed by a college girl and got her phone number. Think that'll do it?"
Simon laughs and rolls back into the couch, which he flops down into. "You know, it's something, but I have a feeling these guys will be expecting a much juicier story." He offers a playful wink, but it obviously joking.
Jezebel grins as she sits down next to Simon. "You don't get much juicier on the first date, Mister. Hmm…. think another kiss will do it?"
"Oh, Jez, there's only one way to find out, I think," Simon says as he gently taps his lips with a finger. As if on cue, something slow and bluesy starts to play over the speakers. The lighting turns extra blue and the people skating start to pair off. How romantic?
Jezebel grins from ear to ear, then tries to give Simon a long, slow kiss that fits the music. This time, she takes it easier on the poor guy.
Simon doesn't know what's gotten over him lately, but he's certainly much smoother with the ladies than he ever was before. Then again, the stripper may not be as into him as he thinks. She is, after all, a stripper. There is more hooting from the sidelines, but most of the team members back off, because none of them have dates. Simon breaks off the kiss and grins. "So how about that number?"
Jezebel replies, "Sure, but if you try to get much juicier the next couple of times you call, I'll put the phone next to something playing ABBA." She takes a scrap of paper out and writes on it, 'Jezebel re Eric Mas or skating,' and a phone number.
Jezebel was wearing a fanny pack, of course.
"Ouch, just stick a knife in my heart, why don't you," Simon replies, making a mock stabbing motion into his chest. He reaches out a takes the piece of a paper, glancing at it quickly before pushing it into his pocket. "Thanks, I'll give a call sometime. I think I'm going to go now, though so I don't push my luck."
Jezebel nods. "I should get home myself," she comments. "It was nice to meet you, Simon and I hope every jerk you know at school expires of envy."
Simon starts to undo his skates and laughs as he does so. "Yeah me, too. I have a feeling it's going to take something a lot bigger to get rid of all of them, though." Foreshadowing, anyone? "It was really nice to meet you nonetheless, Jezebel."
Jezebel gets her skates off. Before she goes to turn them in, she says, "Good night and no, I can't get you a Harley."
"I'll just have to settle for riding on yours," Simon answers back, grinning widely as he watches Jezebel walk off to return her skates. That was certainly an unexpected turn for the night, and he figures now he can retire to bed happily, which he will do once he gets home.
 November 17th: Ken And Barbie's Big Night Out |
Previously in this storyline… Next in this storyline… |
 November 17th: Sanctuary |