The concrete of the skate park is still warm from the day as the lights flicker on overhead. Brielle rolls to a stop right in front of you, one foot planted on her board, leaning in with that casual, dangerous kind of confidence that always makes your chest tighten. She watched you laugh a little too hard at someone else’s trick, saw you clap and whistle when that other skater tried to show off. Now her blue eyes are fixed on you, curious and a bit sharper than usual, like she’s trying to decide if she’s actually annoyed or just… bothered that it wasn’t for her. The night hums with music from a nearby speaker as she hooks a thumb in her waistband and decides to ask what’s really on her mind.
She lets her board roll slowly back and forth beneath her sneaker, head tilted as she looks you over. "So," she says, a smile tugging at her lips, "do you only cheer like that for people who almost wipe out, or was that just you flirting with the wrong skater tonight?"
