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The Boardwalk, Early Sunday Afternoon

Natalie knew she was probably enjoying this whole thing way too much, and for all the wrong reasons. But as she walked down the boardwalk, still clad in all black thanks to Jace, she couldn't help it. It felt nice to look like a stranger, go to places she usually wouldn't, and just generally put up an act that allowed her to do things like making people judge whether she was prettier than her dear little brother.

Because Natalie wouldn't do that. Right? That time right after the breakup didn't count. That had just been a glitch in the system.

Right.

She took a seat on a bench and looked out towards the water.

[open place in town is, indeed, open.]

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Sam didn't make a lot of visits to the island but Seattle felt a little suffocating and he had an urge to skateboard near the ocean so here he was. He didn't know about anything strange going on island wide and wouldn't have really cared if he did.

It was the island, things happened.

Board in hand, he got a bit of a running start before jumping on it and taking a deep breath. So far, this didn't feel too bad.

Natalie didn't notice, for a moment. Then the sound of wheels caught her attention, and she looked over.

And then her breath caught in her throat for a moment. Yes, she'd come here today because she usually didn't, because she considered this his turf. That didn't mean she'd expected to actually see him here.

Sam didn't keep his eyes closed for too long because that was just asking to hit a pebble and go flying. He opened them after awhile and when he got closer to Natalie (or to the unfamiliar looking guy, to him), he nodded.

"Afternoon," he said politely, slowing down a bit as came by.

"Afternoon," Natalie replied, after a pause that was just a little bit too long. But it was necessary, for getting her emotions in check and hidden. She didn't need him reading her right now. "Skateboarding in January?"

Sam shrugged a shoulder and dragged a foot to slow himself down a little more than already.

"As long as there's no snow on the ground, I'll skateboard whenever," he said. "Looks pretty clear to me here. Nothing to break my face on."

"If you say so."

This was so weird. So, so weird. Even for Natalie and her generally unflappable ways. To the point where she struggled for something to say.

"I wouldn't know, I've only been on a skateboard once."

"Only once? That's depriving yourself if I say so," Sam said with a small smile. "Everyone should try it at least once but they miss out if they don't keep doing it."

"Someone had to hold me up." You was what she'd wanted to say, instead of someone. But she couldn't really go down that road.

Even if it was only a little smile, he was smiling at her, and her chest hurt a bit but she didn't want it to stop.

"It's not for me."

"You sound a little like someone I know," Sam said and he was alluding to her there. And it was only 'someone I know' because he thought she was a stranger and didn't want to just reveal everything to someone he didn't think he knew.

He smiled a little more. "It's not for some people but at least you tried. I'd be a little more judgmental if you were saying it wasn't for you and you hadn't even tried."

Natalie shrugged her broad stranger shoulders. "I was saying it even before I tried, though. But I'd made a deal, and I like to honour those."

"Man of your word," he said, nodding. He glanced down the boardwalk and then back at him. Her. Whatever.

"I'm Sam," he said after a moment. "Haven't seen you here before."

"I don't usually hang around these parts of the island," Natalie replied, which was true. Also note how she sidestepped having to introduce herself. Which would have had to be a lie. "Boardwalk's not my scene."

Sam did take not that he hadn't introduced himself but he let it go. No big deal.

"What brings you down here today, then?"

Another shrug. "There's room for break from routine on Sundays."

"True." He nodded. "Guess that's why I'm here. Get a break from the routine and stretch out my legs. It's been a rough few months."

That was putting it lightly.

And oh, how Natalie knew it. Her slightly sympathetic, wry look wasn't an act. "Likewise," she said. "It happens. But it also passes."

"If you say so." He still didn't feel quite right all the time but he was getting better at ignoring it. "But whatever, I guess we all cope in our different ways."

He sighed and looked down at his feet for a few moments.

Natalie watched him, although she felt like she probably shouldn't. It felt like cheating. But she was greedy, too. Some of her sadness bled through her emotional walls, though she tried to keep it to herself.

"Well, you're out and about," she said, lightly. "It –– whatever's happened to you, it hasn't beaten you."

"Well, I can't stay in my house all day, every day," Sam said, matching his light tone. "For one, it'd get boring. For two, Brid would end up dragging me out to do something and she makes bad choices."

He stopped. "Brid's a friend from back home. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about." Except the horrible stab at her heart that went with Brid's name. Just that. She shook her head. "What kinds of bad choices?"

Oh, masochist.

"I dunno."

He shrugged. He wasn't going to go into too much detail of course but he figured he could share some of it.

"She's just a little more physical than I am. Likes to go running and stuff. Like exercising way too much. She's tried to take me dancing or some crap a few times. And just, you know. Stuff."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

Natalie should have been getting some kind of an award for this performance. She pushed some of the shortish, floppy hair away from her eyes. Funny how pretending to be someone else at someone who actually knew her made her feel more like herself, and not in a good way. "She sounds like a good friend."

"She's been there for me when other people weren't," Sam said, shrugging and leaving it at that. "She's a good person."

He tapped his foot on his skateboard a few times. "It's not bad, though, no. I'm just not a mover and shaker. I like records and movies and stuff. I like relaxing."

"Those are all valid forms of entertainment," Natalie said, still watching him. "Just got a record player for Christmas, myself."

She'd wanted to tell him, but that was really out of bounds nowadays. She was such a cheater.

"Yeah?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "Not too many people want record players. What was your reasoning?"

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The Boardwalk, Early Sunday Afternoon

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