Instead of a a girl ready to play the victim, Rosco Lafayette found fire. The girl snatched her notebook, batted away his offered hand, and snapped at him while scribbling in the journal. For a moment Rosco met her with a look of confusion, but just as the word 'accident' came to his lips, he found himself forcefully moved. Suddenly the surf lapped around his calves, and a moment later a -rather small- wave crashed into him. Though even more confused he did not seem bothered, and in fact barely moved or even flinched as the water hit him. Rather, he seemed comfortable, amused, and even relieved. This sort of revenge he could handle, versus the sort a girl screaming accusations and howling for police could bring down upon him. A few onlookers even tittered. The situation was defused.

Obviously, she'd used her epithet to do this to him. No other explanation. The fact that she'd whip it out on a whim like that was equal parts intriguing and worrisome. Rosco turned back to see if the girl had stormed off or needed some sort of additional response to be satisfied. Maybe, he thought, he should have let himself be bowled over, and sealed the deal with a little humiliation. It wasn't like he cared, after all. Unfortunately the girl stuck around, and after a brief pause, shifted him back out of the water. At full height, not stooping down to lend a hand, Rosco towered over her, but clearly the girl didn't lack for spirit. And still with the unfair questions, trying to make the situation into more than what it was. And a threat, too. Did this kid think that her epithet made her invincible? Schools had therapy for that sort of thing. It appeared that it would take a little more to let bygones be bygones.

He held up his hands helplessly, trying to placate her. “Take it easy, little lady. Just an accident. Neither of us were payin' attention. It happens.” Using one hand he took off his shades so that the other could wipe some saltwater off. His eyes were big, a glistening swirl of blue and green, bright as the sea itself. He replaced the shades, put one hand on his waist, and pointed the other at her. “You know, you've got some guts to throw around your epithet like that. Lot of people think it's a private matter, and take usin' it personally. Like a concealed carry, 'cept nobody knows what the gun does.” Rosco wondered about the girl's perspective, and why she acted the way she did. The next man who crossed her might not have her best interests at heart, after all, so if he could leave her with some parting advice he figured it'd be worth a try.

Not too far away, atop the wooden barrier, Penny could get a good look at just about all the beach had to offer, from the fledgling foam pit to the market stalls to the couple of folks floating on their backs a hundred feet or so out from he shore, peacefully soaking up the warm sun in the cool water. The strident voice of Jessica, however, cut into the pleasant scene and grabbed at her attention. 

Jessica, wearing a cruelly gleeful smile that showed off sharp teeth, rounded on the teacher lady with remarkable spirit to rebuke her. The woman looked not-at-all affronted by the teenager's choice of insult, and listened with a stony expression until her turn came around to speak. “What you're doing isn't evil,” Noelle told the self-proclaimed evildoer. “It's just sad. You're acting like a middle schooler who's watched too many cartoons. I'm sure security would be glad to escort you off the premises if they learned you were bullying little kids. But I bet your parents wouldn't like that, hm?”

With a knowing smile, Noelle pushed up her glasses. “From the way you talk you sound like you think you're important. You act mean and tough, but what you are is small and soft, clearly well cared-for. Your parents must be big-timers, but I don't see them around. If they were, you could be held accountable. I don't see any friends, either.” Noelle, having been working her way on a progressive line of thought, suddenly shot straight to the conclusion. Her expression took a turn for the sad. “Oh. I see.” She knelt down, wiped the little kid's eyes, and started brushing sand off her. “There you go, sweetie. Let's get you cleaned up. You should go find your mommy and daddy and play near them.”

The child nodded, and after a moment stood up before heading off. Noelle stood up herself, and brushed sand from her legs. A final glance was spared for Jessica, more pitying than anything. “Well, you should stop being a nuisance before security notices. There's plenty to enjoy without bothering anyone.” With that she took her leave, making for the shoreline to join Heath. As she approached she noticed a concerned look haunting him. “What is it?”

“Just...Tucker's not a great swimmer, you know?”

Noelle wrapped an arm around her husband's shoulder. “Relax. He has arm floats on, right? And the lifeguard's watching, too. No reason to worry.” She looked out across the water. The flock of children were nearing the buoy where Lydia clapped and cheered.