CHAPTER SEVEN
Alex doesn't always attend the Tuesday dance nights at the Perth Ave community center, but she does it enough that she's made friends. A few regulars she'll save a dance for, and a few she's close enough to actually have swapped numbers. Two of those - Nicoletta and Leo - she's roped into pre-gaming before the event. With no alcohol available on premises, it's not uncommon that some of the attendees go for a drink before or after. Not to get drunk. Just to get… loose.
They're all in their social dancing best (or, y'know, most comfortable, 'cause she's not gonna wear a dress when she can wear a crop top and leggings) and Alex actually has heels to change into for dancing (because, honestly, the only time she wears skinny heels is to dance, because they look damn good and are somehow easier to dance in than walk). The heels are hanging over one shoulder on a bungee so she can do her walking in flip flops, but even that she doesn't need to do too much of, 'cause Nicki has a car and they saved her the walk from her apartment to the bar.
Totally coincidental that they chose the Kanaloa. Totally. Not like she made the recommendation. It's less than a mile from the event, and the promise of pool and darts was a draw for Leo. That Jonas works there is… simply serendipitous. Entirely.
Alex doesn't bother walking to the bar when they enter; Leo already announced he was paying for their little threeway date, she isn't gonna deny him that little pleasure. Whatever makes him feel like a man. No skin off her back. She does shoot a bright smile to Jonas when she sees he's on, though. Turning a bit mischievous at the end, with a little wiggle of her fingers.
Instead of heading for a booth, she goes straight for the pool tables, before realizing that she doesn't actually have quarters to use one. She loiters by the jukebox, skimming its contents, becoming even more aware that she's gonna want change. Who even carries change anymore? Her general annoyance at the very modern problem is quickly set aside because— well, the bartender can probably break a few bills.
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Today hasn't been as slow as usual, but it's always slow at the Kanaloa. At least, ever since they started going under. Jonas doesn't want to say he's been worried about it, but… he has been. Stable employment for someone with a two-year degree is harder to find than he'd like, and Daniel's been treating him better than most people would. Combined with his distaste for change and his generally cold disposition, it doesn't make for anything good. But the appearance of both Alex and her two friends makes him feel better, even if it's only for a few fleeting moments.
Listening to his boss crunch numbers in the back, he serves the man his drinks, quietly chatting while Alex swings her way over to the jukebox. That was bound to get used at some point, because it's pretty much the only source of music in the place, but it has its class. Even if you could smack it on the back and make a few quarters come spilling out, earning a free song. Something he'd learned his second year working at the bar. Of course, only the regulars really know that secret, so it usually sits more or less collecting dust in the corner.
That is, until Miss Blue Hawaiian starts making her way toward the counter. Her friend's already paid for her drinks, which confuses him for a minute, but Jonas just continues his work in silence. Cleaning glasses, passing drinks to people who pass by for a moment and are gone the next, trying to count the minutes until his next smoke break. He's almost on autopilot when she reaches the bar, voice monotone and low as he rolls out his neck. Probably slept on it oddly. "What'll it be? Tequila, whiskey, beer…"
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Alex raises an eyebrow. Downer? "I mean, I'll take a tequila shot if you're paying," her tone is a deadpan kind of bemusement, "but I'm already set for drinks…" She shrugs toward her dates. "I'm just lookin' for quarters, my good barkeep." She spins her bungeed heels off of her shoulder idly, reaching for her cash, studying him. "If you're conscious enough to get me some change, that is." What's his deal? Is she even close enough to ask him that? It feels like almost an invasion? And she's too sober to be that rude. At the moment, anyway.
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"Huh? Oh, what? No, I'm…" Jonas shakes his head a bit, pinching at the bridge of his nose as he does his best to straighten himself up. "Sorry. Just out of it today, I guess. I can break down some bills for you no problem." They keep a few rolls of change in the drawer, which means Alex can ask for damn near any denomination of coins, and they probably have plenty of it. Though his smile is a little terse when he glances back up to her, even if it's clearly not because of her appearance. And then he notices the heels.
"…You have heels on a bungee cord?"
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Her brow is furrowed at his weird demeanor, but the question brightens her. "Yu-p," she pops the P with a smile, spinning the bungee in her hands over and under and over and under in a kind of lazy figure eight. "Dancing tonight. Can't social dance without heels. But also; can't fuckin' walk in 'em." There's a crooked grin at that, that suddenly goes mischievous as she leans against the bar, lowering her voice in a mockery of conspiracy. "Though, apparently, if I break both my legs I get to be hoisted, so…"
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That gets him to snort, though he's already going into the drawer to grab a roll of quarters and start doling them out to her. Alex had told him about the dance on… Sunday? Yeah, had to be. Some Latin thing he had no plans on following up about, even if she'd been the one to invite him. "Al, you're not gonna break both of your fuckin' legs just to get me to pick you up. At least, I hope you're not, 'cause that's a waste of a good pair of legs." Okay. That came out a little wrong, and Jonas knows it, based on the way he cringes.
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Alex straightens up, a hand on her chest as she smiles brightly. "Why thank you, I'm flattered." That seems to have worked for a moment, anyway. Gloom cleared away for all of a half second, before her angel was looking fallen again. "Come out with us." It's not like she didn't think she'd say it, she's invited him before - or at least she thinks she did, it might have been more of a bulletin of an event that exists - but she's surprised by how much she wants him to say yes. Even if it's his shift. She glances around. "Get the barback to cover you," she jerks her head in the direction of the man busing tables. "Bet he's looking for a promotion. Come dancing with me." Me. Slip of the tongue. "Us."
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His head shakes a bit, and he's back to cleaning glasses again, listening to Reggie make conversation while Daniel's still crunching numbers in the back office. From the sound of it, nothing good is happening on that end. Jonas is doing his best not to think about it too much, but… "Nah. I couldn't. We're technically understaffed as it is, even if no one's come in or out the past half hour or so. Besides, I'm not just gonna leave Reggie high and dry without some kind of safety net. He barely shows up to close, think I'm gonna trust him to run this all on his own?" He manages something like a smirk, tapping his fingers against the wood of the bar in a lazy pattern of morse code.
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"Jonas. I got you laid." She didn't, but Alex is sure as hell gonna take credit for it for comedy's sake. Extra cheeky, she raises her eyebrows like she's waiting for him to protest. Which he will, so she quickly adds, "What do I need to do to prove to you this is in your best interest? I'm lookin' out for you, angel. You do your guardian thing, I'll do my… evil demon thing, or whatever. Tempting you to get the fuck out of your head and come blow off some steam."
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That gets him laughing, at least. It's quiet, but it's there when he rolls his eyes at her, crossing his arms over his chest to glance over Alex. She did kind of get him laid, technically, but he also has a job to do. Which means he's going to need a bit more persuasion than just her own demonic tendencies. "Tell you what. Pick a game. If you win, I'll come out dancing with you, but only for tonight. I win, I'll stay here and do what I do best. Mix drinks and change lives. That sound good?"
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Alex narrows her eyes. "Fine. The game is dancing, and I'm gonna win it so fast, you don't even know."
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…What the fuck does that even mean? "No— I reject that statement, just-" Jonas shakes his head, and then heads around the end of the bar, motioning for Reggie to take up position while he grabs a pool cue from one of the walls. "We're playing pool. Because there is no way in the deepest, darkest pits of Hell that I'm dancing in here."
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She grins. Because he's out from the bar, and he's in her court now. And she's not too shabby with a pool cue. He's already at the table, but she stops by Nicki and Leo, grabbing up her drink and giving them a grin and a quick explanation before excusing herself to join Jonas.
By the time she's picked out a cue, he's already got the balls racked up. "Who breaks?"
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Jonas is half-leaned on his cue, nodding toward Alex with a slight shrug and an almost bored look on his face. "You were the one that wanted me to go dancing. May as well let you have the first go at it." Besides, he isn't the absolute best at pool, and based on how she's grinning? Alex knows what she's doing. Which kind of terrifies him, if he's being honest with himself. Best see how she plays, then.
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Alex takes a long pull of her mojito, with an obnoxious noise of utterly quenched thirst. "Thanks, Jojo."
On her first round she sinks three balls. A lucky break sunk 11 and lined up an immediate corner pocket for 14, third go got her 12, and then she missed her banked shot for 9, letting it bounce harmlessly past the pocket she was going for. Still. Probably her best first round ever. If only her luck will hold. "Your go, sweetheart."
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Jonas rolls his eyes a bit at her, watching the balls drop into their respective pockets before glancing around to check his options. "Of course you take the advantage. This is what I get for being a gentleman."
His first round isn't quite as successful as hers, but he still manages to sink both 7 and 2 while narrowly avoiding a corner shot for 8. That's always a problem he runs into: getting distracted and shooting 8 before he's finished the game. And Alex is… very, very distracting. Then again, two can play at that game, when he feels up to being eye candy for a night.
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Admittedly, Alex takes a little too much joy in watching Jonas bent low over the pool table to line up his shots. And he makes two of his shots in a row, so that's not too shabby. Quite good, actually. But she's a little too focused on the man making the shots, 'cause— look, she's seen him in button-ups, and so briefly at the gym, but when he sheds the flannel for a plain white t-shirt, well. She finds herself leaning on her pool cue a bit too much, catching shadows of ink barely visible underneath, and it is way too enticing for a guy she's pretty sure she wants to be friends with. Not like she's gonna stop looking, though. Like Alex has that kind of self-control.
It takes her a second to realize it's her turn, and her shot ricochets harmlessly away from the 10 she was aiming at, nudging his 6 a little closer to a side pocket. Shit. Alex straightens up, narrowing her eyes at Jonas, like he chose this wardrobe change on purpose. Very possible. Doubtful, but still possible. Before he can take his turn, she perches on the edge of the pool table by the 6. Casual. But purposeful.
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Okay. She's trying to distract him. It seems like Jonas has far more focus than she's capable of at the moment though, when he manages to line up 6 and pocket it before missing a shot at 1. Not terrible, but not the way he'd prefer to be going about his night, either. When he glances back over to where Reggie has taken charge of the bar, the kid at least looks like he's having a good time. Maybe there's a little bit less of a reason for him to actually try and win this game now. Besides, what's the harm of going out for a little while? It's not like he's going to come back plastered and out of control.
On his missed shot, he'd nudged 9 just a bit closer to a center pocket, and upon noticing nods toward Alex with a click of his tongue and a wink. May as well, seeing as she's playing dirty. Or that's what it seems like.
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He winked. Alex has to grin at that, and it's not as sharp as she'd prefer. A little too bright and sunny, and it quickly twists to something more wry. This has to be intentional on his part, doesn't it? Distracting.
Okay. So they're tied up. She can come back from this. Alex rolls her shoulders back, lets down her hair and shakes it out before pulling the top half away from her face again. Drumming her fingers on the side rail, she traces her touch back and forth as she picks out an angle. A bit of a hard shot, a little far for her height, to be honest. Leaning over the table has the heels over her shoulder almost brushing the felt, so she laughs for a second, spinning them off her shoulder and walking back to hang them on the rack with the rest of the pool cues. Out of the way.
Back to the table, she lines up a shot at 9, even if it has her on tiptoes to reach. Worth it, in the end, 'cause she sinks it quick. Eyes flit over the table, picking out her targets. 10, 13, 15. Music comes on out of nowhere, and when Alex glances up it's Nicki at the jukebox, arms crossed and leaning against the machine with a smirk. Her kind of girl.
Alex smiles back, and sets up a shot for 15. It's nudged close, but not quite in. Close enough to the cue ball that he could accidentally sink it for her, though. If he's dumb enough. (She doubts he's dumb enough.) She finds herself swaying a bit to the music, 'cause the selection is a good one, and she shoots Nicki an approving look.
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Jonas has to resist the urge to jump when the music kicks on, but he manages, glancing back toward the jukebox before going back to the table. She isn't playing dirty, he can't call it that, but she certainly has control of where he can shoot if he doesn't want to pocket 8 or earn her a point with 15. It takes him a few circles before he picks out an angle, quietly leveling toward 3 and 1 with more of the hope to get them away from 10 than anything.
It's through sheer luck he pockets them both, using 8 as a bouncing-off point that nearly makes it go rolling into a pocket too early, but it ricochets around the corner and back into the middle of the table. Crisis averted. This isn't going to hold. Definitely not with how she's taken advantage of the table. Just his luck.
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Okay. Fine. This is fine. So he's better than she thought, fine. Now's the time to whip out the stops. Alex steps carefully, 'cause she's got two options, and one is the easy one and one is a little trickier. Time for her Psych 101 class to come into play. Or something. Regardless: time for a show of strength. The easy shot would have her looking down her cue at him. With a high-necked crop top, it isn't the most distracting view she can manage. Meanwhile, skintight leggings make a lot out of the little she has, and she's gonna take full advantage. It'll be tough, but really fucking impressive if she can make it.
She tries not to show how tense she is as she sets herself up. It's a cheap move, and yeah okay maybe a little cheap in more ways than one, but she gives him a glance over her shoulder, a quick look-over with that sharp grin before turning back to her task, taking a steadying breath, and—
Thank fucking god, she didn't think she'd make that. But the cue ball popped over 8 to hit lucky 13 on a long trip to a corner pocket. Sunk. Excellent. She breathes easier now that that's done, and rolls her shoulders back, shaking out her hair again, arching her back and stretching her arms a bit 'cause she was pretty damn tense for that.
Okay. So 10 and 15. Easy. Her eyes analyze the table again, checking where he's gonna be shooting next. If she can get her second ball close enough to his that he can hit it in for her, that would be perfect. Even better if it's the only move he can make that isn't the 8. This is about to be too much thought, but Alex is competitive when it suits her. And she'd very much like to win this. As much to get him to come dancing as to just help him out of his own head.
The thought is a little distracting, honestly. Probably why her shot for 10 just barely misses. But she doesn't let herself think about that, instead watching Jonas. "...You don't smile enough." The smirk is gone from her lips, lost to the concentration it took to make that trick shot. Instead it's a contemplative look she has leveled on him. Eerily thoughtful. And she keeps that look, that steady gaze, as she leans against the side rail, chin on crossed hands, staring him down.
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That's… more than a bit unsettling. Jonas's eyebrow cocks up at the comment, and he looks more confused than anything, though soon enough he's tearing his eyes away from Alex's to check over what else he needs. 4, 5 and 8. Okay. He can do that. It'll be a bit tricky, with where they're placed now, but if his luck from last round holds, he might be able to shoot 4 off of the rail and sink 5 into a corner. But that's if he's really, really fucking lucky. As in a piano falling from a roof and landing right next to him lucky.
Another circle around the table, another quiet exhale. This isn't favoring him. Then again, when has anything? First his mom, then his sentence, North Valley's oh-so-welcoming peer group, then his entire college career. Now the bar. Which is closing. Which means he'll be out of a job. But it isn't closed yet. They still have enough time to make up for the missed payments Daniel needs, if they get more clients within the span of the next few months, but without proper advertising for a place like this they're kind of screwed. He's kind of screwed.
It's that train of thought that makes him miss his shot. The angle is off, and instead of 4 hitting 5 as it pockets down the corner, 8 ends up darting into a center hole. Jonas frowns at himself, and then goes to put his cue up, rubbing the crown on his neck as he goes. "Well. Son of a bitch, that does it, fuck. Okay. Guess I'm going dancing."
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Alex is so focused on him - on the way his brows furrow, the concentration in his gaze, the way his eyes go cold, too busy wondering what it is going through his head - that it takes her a second to realize what's happened. He's taking his cue to the rack before she blinks back into focus, and after flicking her eyes to the table, catching the missing eight ball, she sits up with a dawning smile, even if it's more tired than usual. "Excellent." Straightening up again, she shrugs off the discomfort - something she's too good at - and walks for the rack.
Before Jonas can get away, she puts a hand on his chest. Her voice is quieter, smile barely there. "Hey. Come on. It'll be fun." The longer she looks at him the wider her smile gets. "C'mooon," it slips into a teasing wheedle, flexing her fingers in the fabric of his shirt. "Get out of your head for a bit, angel." Her smile is crooked but genuine, and her eyes glance down at her hand before she lets go, stepping past him to swap her cue for the bungeed heels.
A small huff of laughter shakes her shoulders. "Even if you're too scared to show off your inevitable moves; you're just as cute of a brooding wallflower there as here," she muses, smile growing as she goes back to her drink. She hasn't finished it, but she's not sure she's going to at this point. They should get out of here before he goes back on his word. She takes another couple sips and catches Leo's eye with a jerk of her head. Time to head out.
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Jonas puts his hands up in surrender, managing the ghost of a smile as he starts walking for the bar again. Just a quick stop-off. He needs to clear his head. It isn't going to work, and he knows it isn't, but he can certainly try. Reggie is more than happy to get out of his way as he pours himself a shot of tequila, inevitably taps it on the counter, and downs the alcohol before cleaning off the glass and stepping out again. "Good luck, sucker! I'm headed out."
"Wha— Jonas, you just-"
"Yup. Your bar for the night; don't fuck it up."
Reggie beams. Jonas can't bring himself to return the gesture. Instead he takes out his cigarettes again, flicking the lid open-closed-open-closed-open, following after Alex as she takes the lead out the door.
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The melancholy air seems to be lifting, and Alex feels immensely lighter glancing back and seeing Jonas doing a shot. Good. That's what she does to feel better, too. A good sign, then. As soon as he's out of the door, she grabs for his hand. Raising it up to spin under it (a little halting, with flip flops on concrete, but it'll be a lot smoother in heels on a dance floor), she drags him along behind her, because Nicki and Leo have a head start to their car on the other side of the street. "It's like a two minute drive to the community center," she assures him.
It's weird, 'cause she feels kinda… kinda anxious? Like now that she's dragging him along she has to make it worth his while. 'Cause she wants to make it worth his while. "I'm gonna get you on the floor if it's the last thing I do, Jojo." The teasing is mostly to get a reaction out of him, shooting him a look over her shoulder, still tugging him along, until they reach the car.
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He's more than happy to lift his hand a bit so that Alex doesn't have to (completely) trip over herself to spin, rolling his eyes at the way she's talking. But he's got that signature tired smile on his face, and it grows when Alex starts dragging him along, stumbling only for a minute because of the drop from curb to street before they're both headed for a car. Jonas isn't sure on who the other two are, but he can figure that out later. Or not at all. That's kind of his specialty. No smoking in the car, obviously, but he's still flicking the pack's lid as they all pile in.
Of course they're turned into some poppy EDM station. They're about to go dancing, what else would they be listening to? "The day you get me to dance in front of people is the day I jump back up to Heaven, Alex. Either that, or I'm gonna be really fucking drunk. One of the two."
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The signature impish gleam is back in her grin at that. "And here I thought dancing with us heathens was gonna help you lose that halo." She pulled him into the car by his hand, and rationalizes keeping hold of it. Because if she doesn't, he's gonna jump out of a moving vehicle. And that's just not safe.