Posers (Closed)

Lucas Lorenzo DelFino
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Yeah … noone down at the beach calls him that. Dude, just call him Zo, they all do. Zo’s been a fixture down there for a few years, at least since he was chasing the titles for junior surf championships. At first it was just summers when he was out of school, but now he’s down there all the time. Best way to find him is to find his van - that grey piece of shit half full of band equipment and half cleared for his bed roll. Rumor is, Zo got that van from a stoner who lost a bet. Sometimes they got to chase Zo out of the lot cause that van’s leaking oil; but he comes and goes enough that the folks don’t bother him that much. You won’t catch him the morning though, that’s for sure; not unless morning is still ‘last night’. He’s not always in that van, But, dude, if the van is there, then Zo’s around.

You’ll rarely see him with a shirt on. Board shorts of course, and he has a wet-suit when the water is cold. He can get away with it with the way he looks. Hansom fella, typical blond hair blue eyed. His hair’s been turned by the sun, and who knows what race he is with the tan he’s got. He’s got this hair that looks like it’s been bleached or highlighted, but its the sun. He don’t work out or nothin, hell he seems only to eat from the junk food stands up and down the beach. But you surf, skate, and screw around like he does you don’t need to. Thing is, that shows, you know? He don’t look fake like them guys who push iron all day. Not that I’m gay or nothing - not saying he is either, that’s for sure, but I’m tell ya … I can see why the girls think he’s cute.

Yeah, Zo is always going up to something though. He’s got his beat-up board he calls ‘Jasmin’ that he’s had since a kid. He can inline like he was born with wheels on his feet. He’ll grab a net and jump in on a volleyball game too. And not just with locals either, he’s got this way .. see .. that he can just go up to anyone and start talking to them … and once they get past the fact they’re talkin to some local surfer kid that smells of seaweed and funnel cakes they all get to liking him. Next thing you know, tourists are playing volleyball, or riding on Jasmin out to catch a wave with his teaching. He does a fire ring many night when he’s down at the beach, and the tourists are just as welcome as the locals. He scrapes together enough cash for a cooler of beer (he is old enough, we all remember than 21st birthday if you know what I mean), hands those beers out to whomever, and they drink, tell stories, sing some songs, and watch the fire burn out on the beach. It’s like he doesn’t give a shit … but like in a good way. He don’t give a shit if your are a local or a tourist or a slacker or a bum or a kid or a dad. If he likes ya he likes ya.

It’s the posers, the bullshit posers, though … you ever want to see Zo go off on anyone, bring up them poser douchebags that come down from the rich part or town. The rich fuckers that want nothing but to tell you they are rich. Dude’s got a real beef to pick with them, showing off their money like it makes them special. Clothes that cost a fortune that don’t mean nothin, shoes that cost more than his van, expensive phones, expensive bags, expensive everything. He says, they pay five hundred bucks for sunglasses so when they look down on you they do it with a name brand attitude. Then they think we have to accept what they do is something other than bullshit … no, they are posers. All of them.

He says that’s why he’s never gonna let their band do anything more than gigs at places they know. Zo leads & plays bass in a band called ‘House’ with a couple of buddies; Chuckie on drums and Tito on guitar. Chuckie and Tito weren’t always in house, sooner or later folks go their own way in Zo’s circle of friends; but that don’t mean nothing against Zo. It does make House Zo’s band, so he makes the calls. So they stick to the small time, never become more than what it they are.

Kinda like Zo … like he’s this guy who is in the day. He looks perfectly happy. He is a great guy, great time to hang with - so why ask him to do anything. Course we all know kids grow up, but he seems happy enough with what it is now. Not like there is anyone who sitting there trying to make him do anything he don’t want to either. Zo is in that relaxed world of not worrying about nothing.

…………


Lucas, however, is feeling the pressure. Lucas, the name Zo’s family choose to call him (since they in fact gave him that name) comes from a near history of nothing but success. Lucas’s great-grandfather, Mateo Delfino, emigrated from Argentina with nothing but the clothes on his back, his skills as a carpenter, and a desire to make it in the new world. By the time his son was old enough to take over the family’s furniture making studio, Mateo was already to take care of his family back home with any need they had. Lucas’s grandfather, Ricardo, expanded the business, opening multiple factories in different states. When the time came, Tomas (Lucas’s father) became the first of the family to go to college - and he did to a high end engineer school. He stayed away from the woodworking business for some reason, though with a bit of luck Tomas Delfino came up with a simple multi-stage rotary valve perfect to control outflow air through an environmental control system utilized in passenger aircraft. While explaining it always confused people when Lucas had to describe it, he would just simplify by saying ‘it’s something every plane needs but no one else makes’. When the Delfino Vavle company sold its patents, and long term design to a major manufacturer with an unlimited royalty - Lucas’s family tipped over a net worth that exceeded 8 digits.

Lucas didn’t get the engineer gene in the family, though. His brother, Tobias, got that and is already moving up the chain of command in some corporation daddy greased. Even his older sister showed the Delfino determination, clawing her way up a downtown law firm. So when Lucas wanted nothing but to play his bass … it caused some problems at home.

It’s been a few years now. He hasn’t started college. Seems to ignore the conversations that dance anywhere near college. He spends most his days running around to God knows where in that van, that Tomas could replace with a new one with the money he spends to keep the damn thing fixed. Lucas never says where he goes, never talks about what the band equipment they bought for him is used for, or why he doesn’t come home some nights. Still whenever they expect him to show up for something, a corporation gathering or an event at the country club, he does as he is told.

This is going to come to a head though. Lucas is going to have to meet with his responsibilities, and that quite soon.

Béatrix Daiyu Valletort
Simply known as "Trix"

Trix comes from old money from both sides of her family tree. Her mother's family started generations back on of China's leading, well known and used pharmaceutical and while the company is being run by her Uncle back in China, her mother as the oldest child had controlling interest in the company. Her father's money is said to some from some noble ranks long-long-long ago but their names hold no nobility weight, just the sway of several million dollars from the creation of a successful investment company.

The only person that Trix ever got along with in her family was her maternal grandmother. She would have been classed as a "hippy" by a westerner with her 'earth provides' ways of thinking and carefree artistic nature. Nainai(grandmother) was unlike any other person in her family and taught Trix the beauty of art and music, the magic in creativity and the joys of simple wonders. In fact it was her Nainai who introduced her to the cello. Like raindrops to a stream Trix picked up the cello as if she had always known how to play it. Seeing this talent her mother and father sculpted something organic and soulful into a machine. Trix learned to hate her cello lessons and if it wasn't for the way her elderly Nainai smiled every time she played she would have given up playing the cello.

As it was Trix was pressures and forced to hone her talent into a remarkable skill and gained a fair bit of attention. To the point that Juilliard invited her to audition for their pre-college division where she spent 4th to 11th grade studying music and living in a scheduled world of outside studies, extra lessons and planned concerts.

When Trix turned 15 her Nainai passed away and everything changed for her. She started what her parents referred to as her rebellious stage and no matter what they did or how many therapist and emotional coaches they sent her to she didn't get better. In hopes that a different scenery would change her attitude the family moved with the false claims that it was for Trix's own good. Not that a new investment headquarters was opening on the other side of the coast and her father had been asked to become their COO.

From her point of view Trix didn't see anything wrong with who she was. The person she was with her Nainai was the person she was now just without all the fake smiles and airs. Once Nainai had passed away Trix saw no reason to continue to lie to herself anymore, to keep being the person that her parents were forcing her to be. It just wasn't the real her and so she stopped. Stopped going to cello lessons. Stopped going to fundraisers for causes that she didn't care about. Stopped dressing like a princess to be paraded around like a show horse. Stopped everything that she had always hated deep down. The cruelest thing was what happened to the people she counted as friends. Once she started to be herself they all turned their back on her and excluded her from their life all together and started treating her like she had some kind of infectious disease. They ignored her and when they did give her the time of day they ran her down, picked on her and called her names. They had once been her friends but once she saw who they really were it jaded her whole point of view of her "class" of people.

In a new state where no one knows who she is, Trix hides behind a fake surname "Smith" and uses her free time to escape the confines of her golden cage. As her parents have yet to accept the change in their daughter they still treat her the same and have the same exceptions of her. Which mainly fall into the lines of 'what we say is what you do no questions asked' and that's not at all what Trix is about these days causing a battle inside of her of that she wants to do and family loyalty.

Loves: photography, her cello, her loaded bamboo vanguard board, sleeping in, boots without heels, nature and animals.
Likes: lemon head candies, fun dip, pop rocks, odd flavored candy sticks, non-classical music played on classical instruments and a large range of music from all over the world.
Dislikes: thunderstorms, make up, dresses, gospel, crust on her sandwiches and smoking.
Hates: ants, high class society, her cello, cauliflower, schedules and brunch at the country club.

Morning sun had well since turned to day, as Zo’s stomach began to rumble; a sign that he had successfully wasted time until lunch. The waves that morning weren’t monster, but worth the drive down, worth skipping breakfast. He was out there for an hour before he thought to come to shore. Since then he been pretty much walking around chatting, his wet suit unzipped and rolled down to his waist. Then as he wandered off the beach, he ran into Eddy - an ex-drifter turned old hippie beach comber - who in his drug riddled mind felt the need to tell the story of the time he went to Vegas to chase down the cousin of a dude who slipped him sandwiches down at Guido’s. Then there was the pink teens, a gaggle of middle schoolers who can’t hide their crushes on him -- no way he’d touch those girls, but its always fun to flirt a little with girls who don’t know how to handle it.

Back at the van, he propped his board ‘Jasmin’ up to dry, then dug around for a towel that didn’t stink like ass. He had to settle for something that was more half assed. He really didn’t need it since he long since dried off, but it was force of habit. He wiped down his exposed skin, and ran the towel through his hair.

His phone rang. A smartphone, but it looked as simple and beat up as any you would see. Zo swiped it, and started talking with it on speaker.

“What up?” called a guy back.

“Hey Denis,” Zo replied. “What kept ya from the waves this morning?”

“Pulled the morning shift. The boss figured out surfers are the only ones that can be up to serve coffee at 3am.”

“Sucks to be you,” Zo laughed. He wrapped his towel around his waist over the wetsuit.

“What’s the plan?” Denis came back. “Just got off and don’t want to be bored today.”

Zo dug a little more around in the van until a pair of orange & brown striped board shorts that have long since seen better days. “I’m crazy hungry now, so I’m getting me some fries.”

“Then what?”

Zo shrugged. “Don’t know? Sounds like some folk have boards out down the beach. Could go skating. Or you could spend your tip money and buy beer and we can shitface the day away.”

“Heh,” Denis laughed. “Maybe later.”

“Then just get your ass down here, and we’ll figure it out.” They hung up with the plans sort set, and Zo got more focused.

With the towel still wrapped around his waist, Zo pushed the wetsuit over his hips and wiggled them down his legs. It was a public parking lot, still filling up with the weekend beach goers and folks coming out to the stores, parks, and boardwalks. There were more full spots then empty, with people of all ages moving through it. And there Zo was wearing nothing more than a towel. He shook out the shorts like he didn’t give a shit … but that was Zo in a phase. If he loses the towel, what is anyone going to do except stare.

Dressed again in the board shorts, canvas shoes, and a t-shirt draped over his shoulder in case he needs it, he wandered down the walk. He could smell the fries … wanted the fries … and today that’s all he cared about having was those fries.

Dreams are a freedom from the reality of life, the escape from that which is inescapable and the one place that provides exactly what you need or feeds your deepest fear.​

In Béatrix's life there was no peaceful awakening, no tranquil rested feeling after a good night's rest. For Trix every morning was a battle to wake up, to submit to the blaring siren of her alarm clock and start the day. Most people would look at Trix's like and wish it were theirs but they wouldn't understand the hellish torture it was to live in a golden cage of expectations and unrealistic demands. To have every minute of their day pre-planned for them with no care of her own wishes, hope, likes or dreams. After all who knew better then parents.

Under a mountain of blankets a young woman grumbled and growled, her voice and silently cursed words muffled by the designer fabric and stitch work. The alarm had won again and Trix slid her defeated finger over the screen and silenced the dreaded electronic dog collar. In all fairness it wasn't the iPhone's fault. No, that laid in the hands of her mother and their synced calendars.

5:45 am - 5:59 am: Wake up and get dressed.
6:00 am - 6:59 am: Morning exercise in the gardens. (mother and daughter time)
7:00 am - 7:59 am: Clean up and get ready for the day.
8:00 am - 8:59 am: Family breakfast.
9:00 am - 11:59 am: Cello Lessons.

Trix turned off the phone, she didn't need to see any more then that. Nearly every day was the same with every slight differences thrown in for socializing "fun". What that really meant was the Trix was carted around to any and all events that her parents felt necessary for Trix to attend. The only saving grace was her personal driver Mr. Hobbs. He felt sorry for her and had no problem looking the other way and reading the paper or doing the daily crossword as she ran off and did what she would. They had come to terms years ago and by now things didn't even need to be said.

"I could drive you to your cello lessons." Edward spoke from behind his daily reports not bothering to even look up as she talked to his daughter.

"No thank you Father. I have my cello already in Mr. Hobbs car." It was a lie but Trix had stopped feeling bad about it a while ago. The truth was that her cello lessons were the only time to herself. The tutor they had hired to continue her lessons was quite good but Trix was better and he was just as happy to teach as he was to get paid $585 an hour doing whatever it was that he did while Trix was gone.

"Hmm." There was a start of a nod but when Edward's phone rang his attention was turned to who it was. "Ah! Glen!" And with that family breakfast was done 13 minutes early as Edward left the table to finish his call in his study.

From the other side of the table her mother Grace glanced at her watch and kept from frowning. Frowning after all gave you wrinkles. "If you are finished with breakfast you may leave as well." Grace huffed standing from the table. "Have a good day, listen to your tutor." Grace didn't wait to hear if her daughter had anything to say before she left the room, her Burberry heels clicking on the pristine marble floor.

Once bother of her parents were gone Trix let out a loud sigh of relief and slumped in her chair. As calming as yoga was supposed to be, it was canceled out by the long list of dos as Grace prepped her daughter for the coming spring gala at the country club. Grace had booked a performance for Trix, the first since they moved out west and as Trix's mother she wanted to remind her daughter of all the things she must keeping in mind. Theses were their new friends and Grace wasn't going to let Trix ruin the relations she and Edward had made by Trix's outlandish behavior. Making a great effort to remind of the that time when she turned 19 and shamed their family by not showing up at a charity event.

"May I take your plate Miss?"

Trix blinked, she had lost herself in memories. "Oh, um. Yes, please." There was nothing wrong with the new house or the servants that cared for it but they weren't the ones she had grown up with back east and didn't know how much Trix hated being called Miss. As the table was being cleared Trix removed herself from the room. She didn't want to be in their way and knew that as long as she was there the workers had to take great effort to mind her.

As Trix left the house and met Mr Hobbs in the motor courtyard she couldn't help but feel a bit more relaxed with every step that she took away from the house and her parents.

"Will I have to find you again or will you tell me where you're going today?" Mr Hobbs asked as he held open the back passenger door to the black Range Rover Autobiography.

Trix smiled for the first time that day and shrugged. "If I knew where I was going I'd tell you."

It the was answer the Mr Hobbs expected and before he closed the door to the luxury SUV he handed Trix an old Motorola RAZR flip phone. Her phone could be linked and traced by her parents. Plus where was she supposed to be other then at cello lessons during the hours of 9-12.

"Thank you." Trix sing-sang kicking off the Rossi heels for the rugged worn down beaten soft combat boots in the bag next to her. As Béatrix Valletort it was all pearls, name brands, skirts, dresses and heels. But when Trix was herself or rather Trix Smith she got to let her hair down and dress in what felt good. Which was normally older worn soft cotton shirts with fun logos or prints, jean shorts and her favorite pair of boots. In the back most part of the SUV next to her cello case was a longboard skateboard that Mr Hobbs was nice enough to keep safe for her.

By the time Mr Hobbs drove to the farmer's market Trix was changed out of the skirt, polo shirt and heels. And what had started as boots had changed to a set of sandals and one of her favorite "elephant" outfit. "Pop the back for me?" Trix asked as she tucked her trusty Pentax K1000 into her elephant bag and hopped out of the SUV. When the back opened Trix grabbed her longboard and waved bye as Mr Hobbs drove away.

The farmers market was busy and within minutes Trix was surrounded by a mass of people. No one knew her or suspected her of being the child of her parents and at last Trix could be herself as she wondered the market taking pictures here and there. It was past an hour later before she came up for fresh air and parted from the market. This was the first time she had been dropped at the market and as she looked around she recalled the ocean not being too far away. She had seen the ocean a few times on the east coast but never on the west. A new adventure laid ahead of her as she stepped up onto her longboard and kicked off. She was off to see the ocean.

As it turned out, when he got to the fries, Zo didn’t want the fries. He got a pretzel instead. A big salt covered one freshly baked at the pretzel shop. Half was gone before he made it across the way to sit on a big concrete wall. By the time he sat he started picking at the remainder.

A guy on a skateboard so beat up it that the duct tape didn’t hide how it was split in five places. “What’up Zo.”

“Lunch,” he replied between bites, “What up Repo?”

Repo, a short, thin, but surprisingly tanned, Korean about the same age as Zo was dressed in a tank top and shorts that seemed as worn as the board. “The usual, trying to land a few tricks so I can get a video done and sent off to Antihero.”

“Still think they will post a video on that piece of shit?”

“No, I think they would give me a board so I can do this shit for real.”

“Fucking dreaming” Zo responded with a pretzel in his mouth. “Anything going on down at the ramps?”

“Nah,” Repo responded and started looking around. “Chuck said to keep a look out cause some chick has a narly looking longboard. He was guessing it was bamboo, even said he saw it was a Loaded longboard. She wasn’t there, so I thought I would look here.”

“What’s she look like?”

“Said it was the girl with an elephant on her shirt.” Repo scratched as his arm as she shrugged. “Chuck gave me details about the board, noticed what was on her shirt, but couldn’t remember a thing about her tits. What does that tell you?”

Zo was looking around some, spotted what he was looking around for, then laughed. “Tells me he gets more hardons from boards than women.”

“Nice board and nice bod means she’s a poser,” Repo sneared.

“Well,” Zo smiled. “Let’s find out.” Without even getting up from the wall he shouted at the girl they had been just talking about. As she started riding into ear shot he yelled her way with a smile & a charm that seemed to win him friends up and down the beach. “Hey! Elephant Girl!! What kind of board is that??”

The people on the West coast were so much nicer then the people on the East coast.

It wasn't the first time she had thought it but it was all but cemented when she faced a hill that would have required her to hike it. She didn't know who the young artsy guy in the beat up ford ranger was but he was kind enough to offer to tow her up the hill. In all honesty she had seen people tow from cars and trolleys before but where she came from that normally got a person slammed into a parked car so Trix was a little slow in taking up the kind offer. If the guy didn't have such a nice smile she might have just hiked it. End of story, she was happy she took the offer because the hill was a little steeper then she first assumed.

The man who towed her gave a wave out his window after making sure she was good but Trix almost missed the wave. As much fun as the ride up was the view from the top of the hill was even better. It wasn't the greatest view in the world but it was more then she had expected and brought out her camera and snapped a few pictures. It was a combination of the ocean horizon, the outline of rood tops and the grid of cars and roads that made the picture for Trix. As busy as it looked there was a softness to the whole setting that was so unlike her home before.

There was still a ways to go before she hit sand and ocean but for right now, with her camera tucked back into her bag, Trix was all about this hill. Knowing the look of horror that would be on her parent's face as she kicked off from the top of the hill only gave the experience more joy as she started picking up speed. Crossing the first roadways wasn't too bad but as Trix started picking up more speed she started to regret her rash choice to master this hill without protective gear. If she wiped out or mistimed a road crossing... Nerves started to eat at her as the hill plateaued a bit for another intersection but she was yet again lucky to timing it to her favor, a clear section with cars turning away from her. Only halfway down the hill Trix doubted that her luck would hold for the remaining three lights and tried tapping down but with the flimsy leather sandals that she had on it was doing nothing to help and she waved her way between a moving truck and a Prius much to that annoyance and honks of drivers. This wasn't like the abandoned hills in Aspen where one could cut a road as one wished. This was a semi-busy street with cars and drivers that had more sense then the downhill riding young woman.

"Crap, crap, crap." Trix sang tucking behind a minivan and around it, the vibrations coming up through her feet alerting her to how closed she was. If she was a religious person she would have prayed thanks to some God that west coasters didn't rush turning lights as bad as east coasters because with that last light was a close one.

Trix's heart was racing and even with the wind filling her ears her heartbeat and blaring horns were the only things she heard. Her hand trembled and she mentally lectured herself over what a bad idea this was. She didn't know this street, didn't know this hill and with new wheel untested in downhill it was a rookie mistake that could get her killed because she was the rookie downhilling with no protection!

Yet the world didn't cash in her ticket and she made it to the flats of the hill in once speeding piece. She didn't know where she was going but she wasn't in the mind to go down anymore and turned down a street lined with parked cars and calmly rode her speed out.

As the adrenaline wore off and the fear of death subsided Trix started laughing, unable to stop. She was sure she looked like a loon head thrown back and laughing her head off but in her mind what she had just done was looney and what could she do about it now other then laugh. "I'm glad I didn't die." She said to herself wiping tears from her eyes, her board back under control.

A few more streets and Trix could almost hear the waves crashing onto shore. Okay, maybe that was a bit much as the traffic in front of her canceled out the ocean noises but she could see the ocean and knew that once she got across the street and over to the sidewalk she would be able to hear it.

Knowing she had the time to cruise, Trix kept pace with the sand crab next to her. Her mind told her to take a picture of the creature but her heart was a piece and it just felt like too much trouble to fish her camera out. Sooner then Trix expected the noise of traffic got quieter and when Trix looked away from the ocean she found herself in what could have been called a beach bum hang out. There were surfers and skaters scattered among the locals but what spoke out to her the most was the lack of spotless luxury cars. Trix felt at home. This was better then the farmer's market and even as an outsider she felt at ease.

“Hey! Elephant Girl!! What kind of board is that??”

It was a question shouted from a distance and tho Trix wasn't sure the question was addressed to her she found herself looking around for the speaker. A tanned surfer with the classic sun bleached hair that people paid so much money for, but she knew was real on him, sat on a wall and looked directly at her.

Maybe it was the mindless thrill down the hill or the new surroundings that had her speaking before thinking but before she knew it Trix had answered the stranger. "One made from wood." She laughed stepping off her board with grace. Without looking she took her camera out of her bag and snapped a picture of the surfer a sassy smile on her face. She didn't know why she didn't answer the question, she knew the answer but something had ran away with her mouth and she didn't know what.

He wasn't that far from her and a quick push off had her sailing right in front of him. "Why do you ask?" Trix stopped near the surfer and his skater friend and at once felt the negativity from the skater. Did she just stake into some local only hang out and the question was some kind of password that she didn't have the right answer to? If it had only been the skater she would have guessed at a yes but there was a more friendly vibe from the surfer that the skater lacked.

The comment about the wood board made Zo laugh. First impression, the chick’s got spunk. Zo laughed, broadened his smile and nodded humorously.

Repo, not same impression, and started to grumble something.

That’s when the girl pulled the camera out and snapped a shot of him before asking a question.

“Wood board’s a wood board,” Repo grumbled finally loud enough to be heard. The skepticism draped off of Repo’s posture like the shorts off his hips. “Fuckin’ tourist.”

“Dude,” Zo smirked. “Be nice.” Zo hopped off the wall, brushing the dust off his shorts and subconsciously straightening them. Turning back to the girl he gave his most charming smile and gave a better reply. “Just asking, elephant girl. Rumor was some skate bunny was showing off a sweet board. My compadre wanted to meet the board, I wanted to meet the bunny. So what kind of wheels are they?” Point at the board.

Before she could answer, he turned away from her, bent slightly over the wall, and pressed his butt towards her. With a smile over his shoulder he quipped, “Oh, and get a shot of this … this is my better side.”

The attitude from the skater rubbed her the wrong way, sure she was used to being judged and measured before someone really got to know her but today she didn’t want to deal with it. Added to the fact that she didn’t want to be known as a ‘bunny’ Trix figured she would teach these boys a thing or two about longboards.

“Not really Mr. Local.” Trix smiled with all the false pleasantries she had grown up mastering. “She’s made out of a pressed bamboo core making it truly a grass and a fiberglass mix outer coating, giving it more of a flex then traditional wood boards. The hint of sand on the top gives me the freedom to forego grip tape, making for a more comfortable barefoot ride.” Trix was just getting into her flow and she took a deep breath before continuing. “This here is a 98cm symmetrical center balanced five flex deck.” She lectured slipping a foot under the deck and quickly drawing her knee up grabbing the board in midair and leveling it upright to show off its beauty, taking care to cushion the tail of the board on the tops of her feet to prevent any damage. “Paired it with 180mm Green Fairy 50 degree trucks with the flat black under trim. I had 52s on it before but it just didn’t carve the way I wanted to. Plus the blue satin kind of clashed with my color scheme.” She smiled with wicked glee knowing that her pride for her board was showing, not that she cared. Who wouldn’t happily be the pride owner of a ride like her’s? “The wheels are a new touch and I haven’t quite made up my mind about them.” Trim sighed using her fingers to ‘walk’ the waved grooves in the tires so they spun slowly. “70mm 80A custom lime green Shark made wheels. Saw them on tv and figured why not.” Trix winked at the surfer finishing her bragging rant. “All in all this beauty here is named Felony and she’s a helluva ride.” She beamed that overly sweet painfully obvious fake smile once more before turning away from the skater. He was killing her hill ride high.

When the surfer bent over Trix gently set her board back on the ground and obediently took another picture centering his smiling face in the photo. “Hmm…” She paused as if in thought. “You know…” Trix turned back to the camera wishing for a digital screen. “There doesn’t seem to be much of a difference in either side.” She playfully frowned hoping he wouldn’t take her jab too hard as he was the only one really putting an effort into being nice to her.

“So what are you two, the local beach patrol? Shooing away potential tourists from the real gems of the area?” She sassed with a teasing tone. “Because if that’s the case you’ll be happy to know I’m new to the area and am loop holed out of the tourist title.” Trix boasted with seemingly flawless logic, at least to her. “And bunny title.” She pointed to the surfer. “You can call me Trix.” The pointed finger turned over to an offered outstretched hand, a warm and genuinely happy smile on Trix’s face.

There was a stone silence that stood between the two guys. It may have been a few years since either of them sat in a class, and no teacher they had looked anything like the small girl standing in front of them … but they both just got schooled. Rocking the rundown on her board was the stuff of legend, few people had that kind of knowledge of a good axe, let alone a bunny. Then getting called out for calling her a bunny just kicked it all into shape. Whatever the camera caught in her freaky little picture taking probably included a dude in shock.

Repo was the first to break the silence, simply by dropping his beat up shit board to the pavement. The multiple cracks through the thing made it rattle like driftwood up against the breakers. Just the sound of the thing made it clear that his was the far inferior tool between his and the girl’s and made the thin Korean kid actually blush through his tan. He reached to grab it but his hat fell off, drawing even more attention to his shock, until he just grab his hat and hop on his board. Flustered he just kicked off and yelled over his shoulder. “Later Zo, call me when you are done with the fucking tourists.”

Zo watched him skate off, but turned back to the girl. “Trix, nice handle. Goes with the board. And for the record, that was pretty impressive there.” He hopped back up onto the concrete wall to have a sit, putting his hands onto the edging and leaning back for a stretch. His bare chest expanding as he did. “Probably more impressive to him than me. Skate boards … not my drug of choice. I’m an inline guy on ground, but prefer the surf for when I have tricks of my own to do. So half that shit you just told me went completely over my head.”

He leaned forward on the edge and looked directly towards her. “But a bit of wisdom for you Local Bunny, and don’t take this the wrong way or anything but a heads up. Don’t tell anyone you bought the board. It’s a sweet ride, I will give you that; ain’t gonna by a single skater that won’t be impressed. But you’ll find out pretty quick that this place fills up with posers. Rich kids who are sick of skate parks in the suburbs coming down here to impress the locals. They wear their expensive knee pads and got those helmets that don’t have a scratch on them. Then they grind like pussies. Fall on their ass. Call their mommies. You tell these dicks that you bought that board, they think you are a poser.” With a wave say, “tell them it was something you picked up at a show or one of them exhibitions. Or hell … just say you met a skater who that you were cute, and he gave it to you.” With a laugh he continued. "Don't get me wrong, you obviously know your shit, but no one likes a poser. Don't give them a reason to think you don't know your shit. Just be awesome like you just were."

With a smirk he added, “or you can just be cute.”

Thrusting a hand out to her he stated, “Zo, by the way. Local skate bunny patrol.”

The noise the skater’s board made when it hit the ground made Trix cringe and instantly she felt bad about being so obnoxious about the show and tell of her own board. This kid probably little to nothing to his name and what he did have he probable worked his ass off for and treasured. It was obvious she had riled him up and the flash of embarrassment showed only deepened the shame and guilt that Trix felt. She couldn’t even fault him in his foul language farewell. In his place had someone made her felt the same way Trix wasn’t too sure the next set of words out of her mouth would have been as kind.

Was it? Trix hand a hand through her hair and smiled. “Yeah well your friend seemed far from impressed.” She shrugged looking off in the direction the skater went. Trix knew better but a part of wished she could do something to help the skater. As it stood now any offered help would just outcast her and put into question where she could afford to offer such help. For the time being Trix would have to let it go until a time presented itself.

Trix caught herself looking as Zo stretched, watching the ripple of muscles over his chest. How was it possible that she had been pissed about moving here? The sun, warm weather and shirtless studs. Yup this was the place to be she smiled to herself resisting the urge to take another picture.

At the mention of the surf Trix looked past Zo and out to the sea. She had been to the ocean a few times but the water on the East coast didn’t look nearly this pretty. Or warm. It was probably the lack of warmth that had kept Trix from doing more than just dipping her toe into the salty water. Trix had always wanted to do more but in all honesty the unknown lurking below scared her and kept her at bay more so than the cold.

Bunny? Trix raised an eyebrow but stayed silent listening to his kernel of wisdom. “Is that so…” She hummed looking down at her legs before crossing her arms over her chest. “By your check list I should be fine. No knee pads, lack of shiny helmets and no mommy to the rescue.” She ticked off on her fingers. Trix flashed her most charming innocent smile. “Who’s to say that I didn’t just nab the board from some posh? I mean her name is Felony.” She sassed. The truth, the board was named Felony because her parents would rather her commit a felony then drag herself through the mud being associated with the sort of people who hung out at skate parks and parking lots. A felony they could buy her out of, a reputation was harder to rebuild and recover from.

Trix fanned herself as she pretended to be tickled. “Are you trying to say I’m cute Mr Zo?” She teased using her god awful southern accent.

“But thanks for the advice.” She shook his hand noticing the warmth, surprised that they weren’t as rough as she expected them to be. “So as local stake bunny patrol what are your civil duties? Any chance they include tips on good places to eat?” Trix asked with a bat of her lashes, still holding his hand unconsciously.

“Whao, slow your roll little bunny,” he teased back. “You are already talking about good places to eat? Are you trying to date me or something? Because I don’t know what you heard I am not that kind of a guy.” He had a wide smirk on his face trying to look serious. “There is a certain order I expect out of my girls, Trix.There’s the misguided flirting and the blow offs and the setting you up with my friends in a ploy to make it look like I am not interested. You think I just start grabbing a bite with some girl because she is cute,” he stopped thinking about how she almost cracked when he called her cute before, “and Yes you are cute, quit asking me.” He nodded down to where they were holding each other, “I mean, look at what you already have me doing - and I haven’t even gotten under your shirt yet.”

With at wink and a smile he hopped off the cement wall. “Come on then, you look like a taco kind of girl.” He looped his shirt over his shoulder and started to head down the walk.

It wasn’t more than a couple steps when an old guy with bright white hair and goatee waved him down. “Hey Zo, your band playing tonight?”

“Not tonight,” he replied. “Tomorrow. Chuckie scored us a gig at Racers out on the patio. Nothing like getting a little sand blown in your face while you play, but hey … gig is a gig is a gig.”

“Alright dude, what time.”

“Eight, just after the tourists leave, you know?”

“Gotcha,” the old man smiled and started to walk on. “Nice girl you got there.”

Zo smirked, “new resident, just showing her to Sliders.” With that he started walking on. In a way, he just gave Trix probably the best compliment he can give someone he just met. Between all the ‘bunnies’, the ‘pinks’, the ‘tourists’ … a ‘resident’ is someone Zo is blessing as someone on the in. But for some reason, it just fit her.

Bunny… Trix just raised a carefully sculpted eyebrow but let the cutsie animal name go.

“Please surfer boy.” She waved off with a flourish of her hand. “If I wanted to date you I’d make you work for it. As it stands I’m letting you make your mark on the cute ‘elephant’ girl with a sick board first.” Trix casually informed him with a sassy smile. “If anything you should be saying thank you.” She winked back. “And you’re welcome.”

Trix nodded along to his listing of dating steps trying not to laugh. It was so nice to be around people who didn’t have the airs to think they were better then you. The easy kick it back and chill mentality of ‘street people’ was where Trix felt most comfortable. Even if it wasn’t quite her world that she was stepping into.

She didn’t say thank you to the compliment, saying would have felt arrogant but her pleasure showed by the soft coloring of her cheeks. When he ever so causally pointed out that she was still holding his hand she bravely just swung his hand back and forth as if it were normal and routine to be holding his hand. The only sign of embarrassment was the intensity spike of her blush. “A fair reward for showing me the local grinds.” She played letting his hand go as if on her terms and not just a slip of the mind and body.

Tacos? Just the sound of the word made Trix’s mouth water and she quickly stepped to picking up her board and keeping pace. Just a few steps from their meeting spot an older man with shockingly white hair and a deep tan waved down Zo. She listened as they chitchatted about Zo’s band and when they would be playing next and where. For some reason it didn’t surprise Trix that he was in a band, heck most everyone she knew had some connection to the musical world though she doubted they would have any understanding of Zo’s garage band musical tunes. She also made note that when she was asked after by the old man Zo hadn’t called her a bunny or any other tag name and that earned him more points than his friendly smile and rocking body.

“You’re in a band?” Trix asked as if it hadn’t already been made clear that he was. “Let me guess, lead singer center front with a guitar strapped across your chest as you coo to loppsy bunnies in some kind of darkened heart torn love rock song?” There was enough of a tone in her voice that it was clear that she was only slightly joking, in case he really was one of those love song rock boys but mainly because she could just see him up on stage with his hair in his eyes and skin tight jeans like all these new age boy band types. Not that she figured that would be his style in any way shape or form, it was just funny to picture.

“Zo: day time tour guide, night time bunny slayer.” She laughed, a flicker of a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth as her phone vibrated a twenty minute countdown.

He had to give it to this girl. She can dish as well as she could take.

“Before you get any great ideas, we really suck,” he replied. “We never practice, and we only play shit that we can learn just by plunking away off the radio.” They walked slowly along the the boardwalk. “But I won’t lie, it does make the skater bunnies melt. I heard recently that this one was so excited about my band she let me buy her a taco to spill on her elephant shirt.”

As he made the joke he looked over to the girl, and the look on her face changed. Sure she was just laughing but there was a bit of a frown there now. Not knowing what caused it, Zo immediately assumed it was him. Sure, it was just banter, and sure she was dishing it out, but maybe she wasn’t taking it as well as he thought.

With a short sigh slid his hands into his shorts. “Hey, I’m sorry if I am putting it on a little too think. You see a lot of assholes around here if you hang out long enough. I don’t want to make you feel wierd. I’m just playing, really.” With a bit of a smirked he he quipped, “I’ll even let you buy your own taco if you want; but only if you go back to smiling for me.”

“Way to ruin the picture I had of you in my head. I mean you were really pulling off that guyliner...” Trix fanned herself but lost it to a fit of laughter at his description of her as a fangirl bunny.

The tone of the conversation took a sharp turn and Zo was apologizing before she even knew what was going on. It was cute that he was so concerned that Trix stopped, putting a hand on his arm for him to follow suit. “I’ll make you a promise, the moment it gets too weird or even remotely weird I’ll tug on my ear,” She tilted her head and tugged on here earlobe with a wink, “Like that and you’ll know I need space. Until that time you’re good. Okay?”

With a smile Trix started back down the boardwalk. “Plus if it makes you feel better, I like it thick.” She laughed making a cute face and blowing him a playful kiss. “And you’re so buying me a taco, you can’t go back on sacred shit like that.” She joked. “But if we can, can we keep the mess to a minimal. I have a rule that things don’t get messy until the second date.” Trix told him holding up two fingers and trying to keep her face serious.

As much fun as she was having the countdown was forefront in her mind and she knew better then to keep Hobbs waiting. He was known to come looking for her and it would blow her cover if he were to do so.

“I wouldn’t mind coming down to check you guys out, fair warning of suckage aside.” Trix smiled meekly looking back at Zo over her shoulder. “I kind of have a thing for music and I’d love to form my own opinion of you and your band.” Nervous that he might tell her no, that it was some kind of local only thing, Trix fell back on sarcasm. “Of course if you are as bad as you say I’m going to have to demand another feeding on your buck. I mean it sounds fair from where I’m standing, partial hearing loss for a full belly.” Her hand held up as if weighing one thing against another.

“Oh, so you like it thick do ya?” he smirked as they turned into the taco shop. “I heard most girls go for length. But each their own.” She was smiling again, that was the important part. And now that they have the ‘safe word’, he felt that surge of confidence.

She asked if she could come down and see his band, and needless to say he was digging it. Still,he let her state her case for a bit, raising an eyebrow and acting reluctant. “So you are saying, the only way I can get you to see my shitty band is to feed you first. If I wouldn’t know it any better, you are asking me out on a date … and making me pay for it.”

Before he could follow-up, they were getting called to put their order in. “Whether you know it or not, you’re getting the special. It’s street meat mixed with hot dogs. But its still a killer taco.” When he order the tacos, he pulled a crumpled up wad of bills from his pocket. There was no suggestion in the clump that it was heavy stack, quite the opposite. It was mostly singles coming up to no more than ten or fifteen bucks. But they had the appearance that they were shoved into his pocket haphazardly, like he was the kind of guy who take bills when he came across them. That was sort of true. Zo tended to break bills when he was someplace far away from here, but wasn’t good of keeping the change in a organized locations; so they tended to scatter around his van. He could carry a wallet around here, but that was so loaded, it might give the wrong impression to his friends. So, who cares if he looks like he has beggar money. As long as people don’t think he is a poser.

As they waited for the specials to be made up, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Give me your number and I will text you the address of the place. It’s Chasers, right up the boardwalk from here.” His phone was battered and bruised, but still functioning. “Come down a little early, and we will make it a proper date … take a walk along the boardwalk, have some tater tots, watch the sunset, make out a little, let you take my innocence, watch my band suck, then get shit faced on the beach, have nasty butt sex, wake up in jail naked … it will the fairy tail our kids will hear for the rest of our lives. Well, unless you’re not into tater tots.” The tacos came out, and he handed it to her, half expecting to see her yanking so hard on her ear it would fall off.

“Well, I am a long board kind of girl…” Trix joked back with ease. If only the snobs were this friendly, witty and real. Things would have been so different if it were but this was real like and nothing was ever perfect, despite what the high class like to portray.

Trix shook her head, no. “You already said you were buying me a taco, messy shirt in trade.” She corrected with a weighted brow rise of her own. “What I was saying was you’d own me another lunch if you sucked, breakfast if you’re so bad that I feel pity for you.” Trix smirked.

Suddenly Trix felt bad that she was making this poor surfer buy her lunch. From the looks of him she knew she wasn’t the sort to have lots of money but after seeing him pull his battered bunch of bills out, guilt twisted her stomach. “Processed meats and no gluten free taco shell!?” She chuffed as if horrified. “Makes me almost want two.” Trix laughed setting on getting him food next time she saw him, despite her jokes on feeding her if his band sucked.

“112-358-1321” Trix recited without pause. “Oh I have no problem with tater tots but the date is off if you can’t promise I’ll get sand in uncomfortable places, discover days if not weeks later a tattoo of your name somewhere on my body and have at least six kids that we can use as a child labor force.” She countered happily taking the piled high taco. “Thank you.” Trix smiled pass Zo and to the person in the window.

As disgusting as Zo’s description of the taco had been, street meat and hot dogs? What part of that didn’t make a person think second day leftovers from a Chinese buffet and expired slimy dogs, what she was handed was far from the image in her mind. And the smell! It was like Nainai’s winter stew but without the hindrance of the vegetables. No longer fearing the unknown meat, Trix took a healthy bite of her taco. “Mmmm.” From the smell alone she knew it wasn’t going to be bland but she hadn’t expected so much flavor. How were these tacos so cheap? Honestly where was the profit that allowed them to stay open. Scanning the window she didn’t even see a tip jar.

“Yeah.” Trix nodded taking another bite and smearing sauce on her right cheek. “This totally forgives you from prematurely ejaculating in my ass later on tonight.” She teased, wiping and missing the sauce on her face. Her phone went off again in a silent warning and like Cinderella, Trix knew her time was drawing to a close. “Raincheck on messing on my shirt?” Stepping away from Zo Trix started returning from where they came from. "Well, here…” On second thought Trix pulled her arms through her shirt, trading her half eaten taco from hand to hand and pulled it over her head. “I’ll get back from you another time.” Under her shirt she had on a simple white crochet bikini top. Sure maybe tossing a complete stranger her shirt had been reckless but there was something about the guys that had her believing in his decency. There was also a chance that she could never see that shirt again but she had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be the last time they saw each other. Especially is she was going to run away from home on the wings of some lie and watch him play.

“See ya surfer boy.” With a single wave Trix laid down her board and kicked off, she had to book it if she was going to make it back in time.

Zo was stunned when she took her shirt off at the taco joint. Not that she showed anything, but the fact the girl that he just met would peel the elephant from her torso and toss it to him leaving herself in an incredibly flattering bikini top was just enough to suck the air out of him. That doesn’t happen often to Zo.

She was practically on her move away from him before he started to respond - and he did so in quick lines as she walked away. “Boyo, after that display I can’t wait to see the naked selfies.” When that didn’t get her he shouted to the departing girl so anyone could hear: “I hate to see you go but I love to watch you leave!”

Standing there with a half eaten taco in one hand, and a sweet smelling shirt over his shoulder, Zo walked towards the beach with the afterglow of something that just seemed good. Sure he met some girls around the boardwalk, and he spent more than a few nights helping them get sand into hard to reach places. But this girl seemed to just get him, seemed to just click with him. Every step he took, she took with. Ever quip and jab, she returned with the touch not to punch too hard back. She was sexy as shit, but she was funny as shit. Someone like that just doesn’t appear on a long board everyday.

And nothing could happen now to shake him loose of that.

Then the phone rang, and did exactly that. Just the name on the display was a boner killer, but he knew the conversation was going to be worse.

“Hello Mom,” he answered.

“Good afternoon, Lucas, where are you today?”

“Out with friends.”

“And when will you be back?”

“Late, got some plans tonight.”

“What plans,” she dug.

Zo tried to sound uncommitted. “The band and stuff.”

“And let me guess,” she huffed, “You don’t know when this stuff/ will be over.”

There are a million sarcastic answers Zo would normally give to anyone else. But those would be to people he liked, not people he was related to. “No.”

“Well, in that case, I will see you tomorrow. Your sister will be joining us for dinner at the Patron’s at 7PM tomorrow night, so be home early enough to be cleaned up and ready for the car at 6. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” he replied. Zo had nothing going on tomorrow; but even if he did the direction was clear -- they would be scrapped for family time. Fall in line, do what he is told to do, and that would be the end of it. Good news is that this hasn’t happened for a couple of weeks, so it’s probably the least he could do. Still, if the new skater bunny wanted to hang tomorrow, he would have to come up with some lame excuse. Lie to her about his plans. But this is something he had to do.

“Alright then. Be safe, Lucas.”

“Yes mom.”

Hanging up the phone, he already felt his stress level dropping. While tallking his feet had found the sand, and the gentle wash of the ocean brought him back to reality. He fell back onto his seat, and laid in the sand. He wanted to clean his head of the frustrating world of his life far from this place … and pulling that elephant shirt to his nose and taking in a smell of Trix’s perfume he felt all those problems going away.

Trix smiled at the naked selfie comment but didn’t turn back, she didn’t have the time but the next time out of Zo’s mouth had her looking and shouting back over her shoulder. “Don’t miss me too much Castor Troy.” She sing sang with the same volume intensity before skating from view.

Hell, she smiled to herself tagging a pull along ride up the hill. Zo was the kind of guy a good girl like her could fall for. Easy on the eyes, good souled baddie, witty, funny and generous. If only she could bring him home without her parents jetting off into the next galaxy.

Trix waved at her free ride as she pushed off back towards the farmers market and an impatient driver.

“Cutting it close.” Hobbs clipped taking the long board and bag from Trix and tossing both into the back of the BMW SUV. “Do I even want to know where your shirt went?”

Back to real life Trix groaned opening the door to see her princess clothes all laid out for her. “Honestly? Full out orgy, I mean I had to pay for lunch somehow.”

“I hope the STDs were worth lunch off the dollar menu.”

Trix clutched at her heart and pretended to be wounded. “Harsh Hobbs, harsh.”

Another reality check as Trix stepped through the front doors. She didn’t know why she expected a hello but for some reason she had and the lack of a greeting bothered Trix when she walked into the house and saw her mother. “Mother.” On the car ride she had practiced her lie until she felt comfortable with its falseness.

“What is it Béatrix darling I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Trix wanted to take a deep breath feared it would draw attention to her. She liked that her mother’s attention was on the screen of her tablet and not on her. “I would like to attend the symphony tonight.”

Without even looking up her mother brushed off the notion with a slight wave of her hand. “Those tickets have been sold out for weeks.”

Which is why this lie was perfect because it meant her parents couldn’t come along with her. “Ludovic’s plans have changed and he’s offered me his ticket. He’s already called down to the ticket will call and gave them my name.” Ludovic was her cello teacher and she had made mention of her plan and he just nodded along, like he always did. ‘After all,’ He liked to tell her. ‘I get paid no matter what you do.’

That gave Claudia pause. The symphony held annually at The Royal Theater Hall, was quite the event. More importantly the after party was where all the important families mingled and there were sure to be young single men that her daughter could meet. She had yet to fully emerge herself within the highest ranks, she was after all the newest arrival and despite her prodigious wealth the woman here felt it necessary to feel her out and make sure she was truly one of them. “Take Mr Hobbs and don’t be back before midnight.” The way she spoke left no room for discussion and she swept from the room now three minutes behind in her day.

Trix barely had a chance to agree before her mother was gone. “Well that went better than planned.” She smiled pleased with herself. “Guess what Hobbs, overtime.” The look on Hobbs’ face might have worried anyone who didn’t know him, but Trix considered him her friend and only laughed at the grimace.

“Shit…” Trix stood in the middle of her closet at a loss. “How do I have nothing to wear?!” She snorted in disgust picking at shirts, skirts and dresses. None of it would work and the few things she did own that were of her own choosing she was if-y about. What kind of place was this? Was this a date? What if it was a date! Sure he joked about it but what if it wasn't a joke. If it was this would be her first date and short of what she gathered from television shows she didn't know anything what to do on one. “This is stupid.” Trix was talking to herself as she wandered in circles around her dresser. “It can’t be a date because you all but forced him to invite you. Dates are where the man asks you without you hounding him for an invite.” Wait- what if she was being a bother.

Sighing Trix gave herself a moment. “Great moment to decide to be a girl.” A droplet of water fell from her wet hair and ran down her back, raising goosebumps along the way. “If nothing else get dressed so you don’t freeze.” She scolded herself.

Maybe it was the nerves of having lied outright for the first time that got Trix all knotted up and frantic but after some thinking and rethinking she threw together something comfortable and tucked it in her bag and got dressed in her ‘symphony’ outfit.

Hobbs dropped her off at the farmers market and silently watched Trix leave. He made sure that she had the collapsible baton he had given to her on her ninth birthday and that her taser was fully charged. It was only good for one hit and so he had taught her years ago to make that charge count. His years in the military, then later in the secret service provided him the experience to teach the growing girl some tips and tricks if she were to ever get into trouble. He half smiled thinking of how there were even a few times where she got one up on him.

Nearly an hour early Trix wondered if it was maybe too early. Chasers looked like the local hangout once the sun when down and she lingered on the boardwalk not quite sure what to do since Zo wasn't walking around with a neon sign above his head. Not wanting to be the weirdo just hovering, Trix kicked off her slippers and headed towards the ocean. She was probably too early and would circle back in a few minutes or so.

Beach Zone is an old shop that sold towels, hats, sunblock, drinks, and other things that were supposed to beach goers; but the last few years they tended to sell more touristy shit like postcards, gift boxes, snow globes (which was quite ironic for a beach), and grabbers with a mouth shaped like a shark. The place sucked really, and normally no local would be caught dead near the place. But they have this bench out front that comes in handy sometimes. Especially when you stub your fucking toe doing a trick and need to tape it up. That’s why Zo was there.

Of course there was another cool part about sitting there, especially this time at night. The guy that owns the place is pretty cheap, and won’t replace the shitty sign over the building. Only have the lights in the sign come on, and then not all at the same time. But as the sun sets, and some of the buzzing letters flash on,, he is literally sitting under and a big neon sign that says “Zo”.

Zo struggled quite a bit with the rest of his day. Seeing he basically had a date that night, he wanted to look nice. But he had a gig that night, so he wanted to be cool. Plus, there was no guarantee Trix would show up.

Plus he was running out of clean clothes in his van.

In the end, he went with simple cargo shorts, red Chuck Taylor shoes, and his most ironic t-shirt he could find. A black shirt that basically said: “Irony, The opposite of Wrinkly”.

He stuffed his taped up toes back in his Chuck Taylors, pulled his bass over his shoulder, and got back on his board. A couple of kicks and he was riding down the boardwalk. It was full of tourists, and a higher rate of bunnies than normal too. The kind of night that would drive Zo crazy with trying to balance between being an ass and being a dude. But his mind was way too focused on all those hopes he has. He rolled up to Chasers and looked around. A couple folks tried to talk to him, see if he was ready for the gig, or the usual bullshit. Went in one ear and out the other. Nope, Zo was on the lookout for something. Something in particular.

Then he saw her.

The sun was low against he ocean, causing the orange through the clouds glisten and sparkle across the beach. She was some distance away, far enough away that he couldn’t even begin to see her face and confirm her identity. But he knew it. Somehow he just knew it. She moved so easily across the sands. She etched her way into his head like something you ate that you remember forever, and seeing her now was like smelling that same thing cooking on the stove.

He left his board and bass back at Chasers, didn’t even care if they were safe. Just wanted to walk that way towards her. He walked slowly, confidently, but direct towards where she was.

It was funny the things that caught your eye. “Hey there little sand crab.” Trix crouched over and smiled at the beach dweller. In the larger of it’s two claws was a san crusted piece of something. The logical guess was that it was some kind of food and nothing that looked appealing enough to have to drag all the way back to its hole. “Wha’cha got there?” As softly as Trix had spoken the crab froze. With the setting sun the light cast a long shadow over the tiny sand dunes and projected the crab’s shadow to look like something from an old Godzilla movie. It was worthy of a picture and Trix reached behind her to her bag and frowned.

Not only was she without her camera but her movement startled the crab and it dropped its sandy dinner and scurried off. “Hey wait!” Felling back for the crab and how hard it must have searched for it’s bit of food Trix dug around in her bag pulling up an old Chinese fortune cookie. “I got something for you.”

Unaware that she was being watched, Trix hopped over the crab and frightened it into hiding and tucking tight against a long wore footprint. “Look I’m sorry but I’m not going to hurt you.” She whispered to the crab unwrapping the stale cookie and crunching it into manageable pieces. “See, something a bit more appetizing then what you were carrying around before.” Trix tried convincing the crab who was now surrounded by bits and pieces of fortune cookie. For a while the crab didn’t even move, this googly eyes pressed firmly to its body, but slowly over time the crab relaxed and viciously snatched up the nearest cookie piece.

Smiling Trix watched was the crab spun the cookie in his claw and nibbled over the edges as it passed his mouth. Once he had given it his seal of approval it snatched up yet another piece with its free claw and ran off. Watching the crab escape what she was sure he would later tell his friends was a near death experience, Trix started to see more crabs venturing out of their holes, comfortable in the presumed safety that dusk gave them.

“Poor little crabs.” Having been taught that if you couldn’t share with the whole class, you should share at all. Trix fished more pieces from the packaging. Seeing how much movement there was over the sand, Trix leaned back and took a more comfortable seated position in the sand, forgetting for the moment the ‘date not date’ she was waiting on. No, the more pressing issue at the moment was conquering the proper flicking motion needed to launch the broken cookies parts near enough to the crabs for them to see it but not fear it. A delicate balance Trix feared she didn’t have as she watched a perfectly triangle piece ping off a rather large sand crab’s shell.

“Opps…” Feeling bad about the damage and trauma she was forcing upon the crabs, Trix turned over the package and dumped the remainder of the cookie into her hand, plucked out the fortune and tossed the crumbs out over the sand scaring more but not all the crabs.

“The object of your desire comes closer.” Reading her fortune out loud Trix raised a brow at the large crab she had hit with the cookie that was heading right for her. “I don’t think it meant you.” She laughed kicking out her feet in the crab’s general direction, shooing it towards a different path. “Desire… what do I desire?” She hummed to herself hugging her knees to her chest, bracing her crossed arm over them to pillow her chin. Her first thought had been of a warm family, one that had family game nights and watched movies with no educational value. It was beyond impossible so Trix scaled it down. More freedom to do what she wanted, to make her own choices and learn from her mistakes? Again too large. “Desire…” This time the word fell from her lips like a song, her fingers drawing notes in the sand as a newly made friend came to mind.

Zo.

Blushing Trix erased the musical notes in the sand and stood up. Too fast, as all the blood in her body had just raced to her head in that crimson tone of embarrassment that colored not only her cheeks but down her neck to the tops of her chest. Her mother would be so proud to see her daughter swooning, maybe not at the situation or the circumstance of said swoon but of the frail and delicate womanly action that her mother had harped on her for ages to enact.

She was consumed, utterly consumed, in the games she played on the beach. So much so that he watched for minutes all the she did from just up the beach. He couldn’t hear her, couldn’t quite see what she played with or what she wrote. He only had his imagination to fill in those blanks. There was the way she fixated on the items on the sand. The way she toyed with a cookie. He could clearly see when she laughed, when she danced, when she floated effortlessly about her play area. Zo spent a great deal of his time on the beach as that guy that was the center of attention, the one that everyone payed attention to; it can be so easy to forget how great it is to be the observer, to be the one that watches. It didn’t matter to him what it was that consumed her; because he was consumed by her.

As the sun set the sea aflame, he finally decided to close the distance enough for her to notice him, maybe even welcome him into her games. Slowly, he stepped along the sands, his hands dug deep into his pockets and head down to not look so eager.

She had just finished erasing some things she drew in the sand and stood up quickly. Even in the evening light her skin seemed to radiate with color, much like a blush but with more vibrancy. He didn’t think she noticed him, so he just called out her way.

“So there I was have a nice and proper nap in my van,” he called, “and then the reports started coming in over the radio. Seems that some bunny was having herself a good time on the beach, and they sent the bunny patrol out to check it out. I was kind of hoping that I would get a damsel in distress or some tourist who needed lotion on her back. Looks like it’s just an Elephant Girl, short one Elephant.”

He walked until he stood right in front of her, his smile was unbreakable, his eyes locked towards hers.

“Glad you could make it. Just to let you know, around here you hang out with a girl twice and rumors start up. Usually about planning crimes or shit like that. Just thought you should be ready for it.”

For a second her mind went off into some girlish tizzy but within that second it took to laugh it off, Trix was once again herself. All thoughts of desire and Zo, well she was going to lie and say far from her mind but it wasn’t. “Just an Elephant Girl? If I recall properly I left my elephant with you.” She reminded him with a smile, ignoring the playful jab at him almost calling her a bunny. “Does that not make you Elephant Boy?”

Wow- Could Trix say she was smitten by the second meeting? She didn’t know but the intense way he stared down at her and his close proximity had her little heart racing like a bunny’s. Ha, like a bunny. She smiled to herself.

“Me too.” Trix had some witty comment on the tip of her tongue but her genuine pleasure of just being here, on the beach with Zo won and the simple confession had her blushing again. Then just like that it was back to joking and teasing, the heavy moment passed over. “Those rumors… Do they start before or after we “accidently” leak our homemade porno?”

“I like your shirt by the way.” She tried to make it sound like she had noticed it beforehand. Which she hadn’t because all she had seen was him. “It has sleeves, I suddenly feel overdressed. You didn’t tell me it was such a formal event. I would have worn my nice slippers.” She teased wiggling her bare feet in the sand.

Getting nervous Trix stepped back and towards the ocean. “It seems I’m too late for tater tots but we can still watch the sunset.” What little of it was left. “Then I believe I get to steal someone’s innocence? Or was it innocence then tater tots?” She mused with a half smile.

“Great,” he scoffed throwing his hand up mockingly, “First you remind me how you took your shirt off for me, then suggest doing a porno, then want me to take my clothes off, all while wanting to see my Elephant boy. You know what that does to a guy? You really want me walking around with a boner all night?”

He kept watching those dainty feet digging around in the sand. It suggested to him that she was no different than those tourists that never seen a beach before in their life, but on her it seemed playful. “And I like what you are wearing. Not every day some bunny dresses cute when she knows she is going to run into me again. This is just a beach bar anyway. You won’t be overdressed … besides no one cares. It’s not like this is some poser symphony concert or something like that.”

He reached for her hand, “come on. There is a life guard station up there where we can sit for the sunset, and it will be easier for you to get a little less overdressed there if the mood suits.” With all the interplay, there was something exciting about taking the girl by the hand and walking with her the short distance to the station. It was quite innocent really, especially for a guy unafraid to move on bunnies if he wanted to, but Trix was winning him over in ways that made walking hand-in-hand kind of forward.

The station was an old wood boarded structure. On the oceanside, there was a small plankway perfect for the beach cops to stand and look like assholes. With those dicks off doing whatever, the plankway was a perfect place to sit and hang your feet high enough to watch the water and the sun. Zo dumped himself down on the edge, and patted the spot next to him. “Party of one, no waiting.”

Trix tried to keep from laughing but there was something about Zo that made her smile. It was more than just being comfortable around him, there was something that made her feel like he understood and wouldn't judge her for just being herself.

"Will that be the result of all my saucy talk?" She teased bowing her head in apology. "I'll try to do it more often then." Trix winked knowing that most people would have apologized and figured that it might have been what Zo was expecting out of her mouth.

Trix had a witty barb to throw back at Zo but the dig at symphonies made her flinch. As easy as this was, no matter how close this was to the real her the truth was, in the end she was one of those country club symphony going daisies. She couldn't help the life she was born into but she doubted Zo would see it like that.

"It was this or my symphony dress." Trix laughed at it as if it were a joke and not the truth.

Zo's invite wasn't what made Trix's heart skip a beat. Silly, for sure, but the simple act of hand holding made her blush. The lifeguard station wasn't that far but Trix counted the steps and tried to keep her face neutral.

There wasn't much of a sunset left but Trix joined Zo up on the stand regardless. "I'm a sucker for not having to wait." Trix sighed settling down next to Zo. The sky was darkening and the bright yellows and oranges were turning to deep reds and dusky purples. The moment was silent, beautiful and she felt peace.

"You're lucky to have this." The freedom to enjoy such simple pleasures, it went unsaid. "Most of my life I was surrounded by concrete buildings, everything was loud and without life." She sighed kicking her legs over the edge Trix swung them back and forth slowly just watching the sky change.

Trix took a deep breath and let it out slowly, braving to do as she wanted. Moving closer, Trix leaned her head on Zo and pretended that life could be like this. That this was a possibility for her if she wanted.

"What will the rumors say about us now?" She asked quietly, the red in the sky fading until the blues and purples ruled and tinted the clouds.

It felt good, it felt really good. Her head nestled into the nook of shoulder, letting his hand circle around the smaller girl resting his hand on her hip. It felt good to just have her so close, feeling the warmth of her body near his. There was something about her shape that seemed to just fit against him. She was just that right height to fall in that space that was created in the curl of his arm. Her curves seemed to meld up against his sides, in a way that made him aware of the turn of her hip, the swell of her breast, the firmness of her side; but not in that he it was nothing more than a innocent hug. Zo felt the smell of her perfume cover their space, and fall within the air and presence of her. It was all good. It all felt good. It felt good to be sharing this moment with someone. It felt good just to be with someone. It all just felt so good.

But that doesn’t stop him from another barb. “Not half the rumors that would have been if you would be up here in your symphony dress, and people can see what you’re wearing up it … you poser.” The dumbshit point of the statement was that he himself had a ‘symphony suit’, or whatever the hell that piece of shit suit his mom made him wear when they went to something he had no patience for.

He didn’t let that sit long, kind of didn’t want to forget what she really said there. “I guess I am lucky though.”

With a long breath, he watched a wisp of purple cloud seem to slowly move at a larger head, like an invading thought coming into a greater psyche. “Couple months ago, my mom got on me that I need to do something. She says to me that I could do anything if I wanted to. At first, I thought it was a shitty thing to say. So I got to think, I wake up and go surfing, and the water is warm and full of energy. Then I walk around and meet some of the great people along these beaches. I hang out with friends. Drink beers. Sleep. Eat. Watch these sunsets. Then do it all over again the next day. I realize ever day how cool this place is. I get how lucky I am.”

Staring out at sea he took a long breath and finished. “She’s right, my mom. I can do whatever I want. So I do this.”