"You're good?" Bobby lent his hand, but Evelyn made it to the roof on her own. "This is the worst birthday gift you've ever given me. Even worse than the spoiled apple pie." Half joking, Evelyn reminded Bobby of the apple pie tragedy; it was his desperate attempt at being nice. Bobby had baked an apple pie to give to Evelyn on her birthday, but baking it two days in advance, and leaving it in the oven only to remember it last minute did not make a good gift.
"Oh, come on, I was only fifteen." With a bottle of whisky in his hand, Bobby twist it opened and took a long swig. Evelyn joined the boy on the edge of the roof, she made herself comfortable with the moon, and a thousand stars shining bright above them.
"Wanna share that, nincompoop?" With laughter trailing behind her words, Evelyn felt her cheeks slowly heating up — she didn't even have a single sip of the whisky, yet something else made the blood in her body rushing. "Someday I'm gonna be the president... and the first thing I'm gonna do is erase that stupid Latin word from the dictionary." Bobby pointed his finger to Evelyn like an old man, he had chugged half the liquid in the bottle in a short amount of time. "Jesus, the Irish in you is coming out," Evelyn said, "Make sure they have a wine cellar at the White House." She seized the crystal bottle out of Bobby's handgrip.
Sitting with their feet swaying in the air, and cigarettes being squeezed between their fingers — this is the best birthday ever, Evelyn thought. You see, she had it all planned out. She ignored Bobby the entire day; telling him how much chores she had to do when really, she was listening to Ella Fitzgerald in her room.
"Hey, about what happened in the house... I'm sorry about it." Bobby interrupted Evelyn's thoughts, she had the part where he hugged her tightly replaying in her head. "Not your fault he woke up, I was the one shouting." Evelyn took a quick sip from the bottle before passing it to Bobby. "No, not that part. I meant when we were talking about Joe." And all of a sudden, the sound of the wind disappeared, giving the man all the time he needed to get himself together. "I've been trying... to move past his death— for the last four years, but it doesn't get easier like everybody said it would." He was slurring his words a few minutes ago, but at that moment he was calm and collected, perhaps with a pinch of melancholia.
"It's understandable, Bobby. Really." Evelyn shifted her body closer to the miserable man, she laid a warm hand on his back. "But I shouldn't have... I don't know— acted like that. It was selfish." Bobby shook his head, he was pressing his palm against his eyes — a desperate attempt at pushing his tears back in. Though Evelyn didn't fully understand him, she was attentive to every single word he had to say.
"Also, I couldn't forget about that time you told me you had a crush on him." Bobby's attempt at lightening the mood worked well; they were giggling softly with one another. "Dear God, I was a child! How long are you going to hold this against me?" Evelyn playfully slapped the boy in the back. She once confided in Bobby; she thought Joe was the bravest man in the whole world — being in the Navy for his life and whatnot.
"I gotta admit... I was jealous, Eve." Bobby's keen, pastel blue eyes gazed into Evelyn's emerald ones. There was a deafening silence as their hearts thump faster, and faster. "Hell, I only think about you the entire time I was at the sea." He reminisced the vast, never-ending sea that often reminded him of home. He was never one to complain to his comrades about his inevitable longing for freedom, but frankly, he would rather be sailing over the Hyannis water; sitting leisurely on a boat, reading Aeschylus while being accompanied by seagulls soaring over endless tides.
Evelyn's letters saved Bobby from ennui. She was only thirteen when he first enlisted in the Navy, but her mind aged faster than her body; they had many intellectual discussions on letters. "All those times at the sea, and you only thought of me? None of those preppy broads from Milton?" At the same time, Evelyn exposed herself; she couldn't bear listening to all the bragging Bobby would do to Jack — all about the girls he'd date at the boarding school.
"Ethel, perhaps?" She brings up a name that's too familiar to their ears. "It's been months, I'm over it." Truly, Bobby couldn't find one good reason as to why he even asked Ethel Skakel out. Could it be some kind of vengeance against her sister, Patricia, who had been dating him until she asked for a breakup? Whatever the reason is, Ethel was not the one for him.
"You can get too emotional when it comes to love. We're young, it shouldn't be a priority." Evelyn chimed in. She began sweating in the windy weather — it was the nerves. "You know, Eve. You and I— we're the same." Bobby swallowed the last drop of the whiskey he had stolen. His mouth was numb from the breeze blowing in their direction, mixing with the potent alcohol smeared on his lips. "How so?" The girl calmly whispered, she stroked her hair back into place. Her fingers twirled with her curls as she kept her mind open with Bobby.
"We're afraid of love though we are lovelorn." The heartfelt poetry that escaped from Bobby's numbed mouth puts Evelyn high above the sky. However, she remained careful, making jokes out of everything Bobby says, "Someone's been reading too much Shakespeare—" "Evelyn." But she was put to a halt by the flustered man, who's had enough of uncertainties, and hesitations. There were two souls on the roof, only one of them knew what they wanted.
꧂꧂꧂꧂꧂꧂꧂꧂꧂꧂꧂꧂꧂꧂