𝗜𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁 𝗔𝗳𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿𝘀 | 𝐁𝗼𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲/𝗥𝗙𝗞

XVIII: "The Paisans"

[August 1, 1948]

As days go by, Evelyn Bellamy waited and waited until the moment arrived; the moment when Bobby would inform her of his departure for the law school in Virginia. It was the first of August; only thirty days left until it happens but not a single word ever came out of his mouth. She would give him the silence in mid-sentences, she would stare at him in anticipation, and lastly, she would utter "is there something you wanna tell me?" Yet, nothing. He only said no.

Once in a while, Evelyn would go to town in her free time during the afternoon to meet some of her friends she made in high school, or summer jobs, and camps; those friends that love gossiping, drinking cheap beers they bought from the bartender they made friends with, and leaving lipstick stains on the crystal glasses. They would call up their boyfriends — Evelyn would not — to join them dancing to the music on the jukebox.

When the boys arrive, Evelyn would change her personality, good manners became important to her. While her friend Connie, a young Italian girl with subpar English, would smoke and dance, sometimes even make out with her boyfriend. Secondhand embarrassment became a normal thing for Evelyn to experience around her friends — ironically enough.

"Come on, paisan!" Connie invited Evelyn to join them for a freestyle dance to Nat King Cole. "Oh, no, no. I'm fine." The older girl would play the mature friend role. "Don't call her paisan, she's French, not Italian, dummy." A much more masculine female said. She had a long thin cigar in between her small lips. "You're just jealous you don't have a boy— or a girl," Connie whispered the last part, she avoided a single fry that was thrown at her by the manlike maiden.

Evelyn and another girl, a blonde, stifled their laughter. "Connie with her facts." The blonde added, a teasing look apparent on her face. "Psh, Betty, it's nonsense." The butch-femme who was sitting beside Evelyn shifted in her seat, closing a few inches between their bodies. "Connie can be foolish sometimes," She said with her pale lips, no lipstick on them.

"That part is acknowledged." Evelyn nodded in agreement. "However... you, Milana, is a mystery." She continued, an impish smirk on her face. Betty watched both of them with interest as she waited for Nino; her lover boy to come back with her drink. "How do you mean?" Milana flashed a wide grin on her face, puffing on her cigar. "Well, Connie made a good point. Where's your ragazzo?" Evelyn pried, it was a question she had had for a very long time. Milana Drago was a beautiful nineteen-year-old girl with hair as black as coals, eyes as blue as the morning skies. Her fashion, however, might be the reason for her status; she's never worn skirts, dresses, or heels. It's always buttoned-up shirts with khaki pants or jeans; something girls always avoided in the forties.

Milana gripped on her nape, eyes dropping to the floor. "Well... I'm not ready for boys. Don't think I ever will," She responded with much hesitance. "Oh, we all know why." Betty contributed a few words to the convo, but it wasn't clear enough for Evelyn. She thought she understood, thinking Milana must've been like her; walking aimlessly in the dark for this thing called love.

"But... sei bellissima." Evelyn complimented, but in an utterly confused manner. "Evelyn, I might just kiss you if say that again." Milana joked wittily — or was she? "Careful, Lana." Betty stirred the ketchup in the small paper container with a fry, her brown eyes locked on the condiment. Milana glanced at Betty before looking at Evelyn, their eyes met, and the French girl giggled to avoid the awkwardness that was brewing up too fast for her taste.

"I'm only kidding," Milana emphasized her words, glaring at Betty. "How's it going with your ragazzo?" She sipped on the chocolate milkshake she had just ordered. "Bobby? Well, he's still secretive." Referring to Bobby's fear of the truth, Evelyn spilled. "Thirty days left and counting— nothing." Milana sighed with not much to say. She only placed a hand on the girl's back and went back into drinking and snacking.