Ziva sat on a bench, lacing up rented skates with sparkles in the wheels, almost disappearing beneath a thick halo of black curly hair and an oversized sweatshirt handed down from her brother.
"What are you doing here, bitch?" It was a tall girl with silky straight blonde hair. A girl named Lysandra, who was a year older than Ziva. Lysandra smirked at the figure on the bench.
"Leave me alone," Ziva muttered, bowing her head lower, hunching forward further and focusing on the fibers in the lace and hoping Lysandra wouldn't spot her dirty fingernails and cracked polish.
"I bet you can't even skate." Lysandra shifted and flung her weight to her other hip.
"Leave me alone."
"They might as well put the hazard cones out for you. I bet you'll be a disaster. I mean, look at your hair. Do you even know what conditioner is?"
"Leave me alone."
Lysandra licked her teeth, huffed, then passed by, making sure the clean white skates she held in her hand grazed the Ziva's head. Ziva stared at her through narrowed eyes as Lysandra met up with a gaggle of friends. When she thought she was suffiently re-invisible, Ziva stood and took three shaky steps to the side of the roller rink. She held tight to the rink wall. A waft of stale hot dog scent floated past and she felt briefly nauseated.
She raised her right foot, and placed the wheels down onto the rink surface. The two objects connected as if both were magnetic. The light dimmed, the music changed and had a throbbing beat, and the disco ball in the center of the ceiling started turning, throwing discs of colored light across the cavernous room. Ziva pushed off with her other foot and she glided to the center of the rink. She put her feet into a T to stop.
A handful of skaters went around in the same direction along the outside of the rink. Ziva turned a full circle, watching them. Then she looked up at the disco ball. She closed her eyes and a flood of warmth filled her. She smiled.
Ziva stretched out her arms like a professional ballerina, tilted her head back, and pushed off. Her eyes were still closed, but the lights of the ball still penetrated her lids. She skated towards the far end of the rink, and turned abruptly when she was a foot away from the wall skaters, still blind. She skated faster and faster, parallel to the others, in a tighter loop. She made a complete circuit before she switched feet and started skating backwards in the same direction. Some of the skaters braked and paused to watch her. She skated even faster, switched position again and again, deftly threading her feet one over the other. She spread her arms and twisted her feet outwards and started skating in leaning circles, like she was sliding effortless along the surface of an invisible cone. She pulled her arms in and spun tightly. She pushed out and crouched down on one foot. She stood again and looped the rink, skating so fast that her huge mop of hair pulled back from her face, and glowed in the disco light, like a halo.
Lysandra stepped out onto the rink, her eyes glued to the spectacle circling the rink. Her front skate slipped and she fell against the rink wall and landed with legs splayed. Her mouth slightly open, she kept staring at Ziva.
As Ziva came near Lysandra, she opened her eyes, smiled broadly, and winked.