Rodeo shifts, standing up and tipping back the last sip of his beer. He tosses the empty can onto the tile, nodding as he looks down at the board. He used to want one as a kid, but it was never in the cards for him. He'd had a bicycle, but that was only because he'd stolen it from the bike rack at school. The closest he'd ever gotten to a skateboard was a Tech Deck his mama picked up from Good Will. He steps up onto the board, putting his right foot first and then rocking back and forth a little, shifting his weight to either side. He eases his front foot up to balance on the back wheels like she instructed, but he loses his footing and has to catch himself. His reflexes are quick, and he drops a foot onto the tile and reaches down in one solid motion, grabbing the front the the skateboard to keep it from slamming against the ground. He's not sure why he does it, but he feels instinctively as if he should protect the skateboard. Maybe it's because he knows he would have valued it so much if he'd had his own as kid.
"You made it look easy," he grins, hardly bashful about his slip-up. He steps back up, ready to try again, and this time he keeps his balance. "How's my form, darlin'?" Rodeo asks her, looking up from his feet to her face. She doesn't seem afraid of him, in fact she doesn't seem to realize who he is at all. It's refreshing.