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Revelations were a strange burden. Or perhaps it could be some unspoken thing like it always was, burning like a raging forest fire. And Virginia Curtis could feel it coming faster and closer than any bitter fuel she could pour down her throat.
Evie wouldn't consider herself an avid drinker. Her body enjoyed a beer or two, perhaps even getting tipsy enough to giggle through every sentence that would come out of her mouth. She appreciated the clouded bliss alcohol could cast over her senses and she would treasure the way street lamps looked like mindless stars in her sway. But now, Evie didn't touch the cold beer that was beginning to thaw and drench her nervous hands.
"That asshole..."
She bit her lip, looking at Virginia who was lying on her side in the comfort of the magnolia tree's roots and soil. Her knees were pulled up against her chest and her white socks peeking out the top of her boots were dirtied. She suffocated a bottle in her grip, her eyes concentrated on a pesky dandelion swaying in the summer breeze.
"Who?" Evie asked, leaning her head against the tree trunk. "Dally?"
"Who else?" Virginia retorted, narrowing her eyebrows.
She could also get a tad mean but Evie took her bitterness with no offense. She would be angry too and rightfully so. Before Virginia's anger, there were tears that had long since dried.
Evie gently rubbed Virginia's leg in comfort. "Best not let your brother find you like this, honey."
"Why not? He buys the beer, he goes out to work all day, all night— he oughta be smarter," she snapped.
"Virginia... now you're just bein' rude," Evie chided gently. "I know you're angry—"
"How could he do that to Sylvia?" she had repeated the same thing over and over like a tape recorder. "And she ain't got a clue..."
"Sylvia's tough.
"Oh for the love of— Bluebell, sit up," Evie sighed, grabbing her arm and forcing her upright. She pulled off the hair that got caught on her lip gloss and gently wiped away stray black marks from her cheeks.
Evie stared in confusion as Virginia dug through her pockets. The Curtis girl felt her fingers press against something flat and hard, and slowly pulled out a red-handled, folded knife. She quickly unleashed the shiny blade, tilting it in under the sun to watch the light reflect against the metal.
"Nice blade," said Evie, lighting a cigarette.
Virginia smiled, running the pad of her thumb on the flat side. "Dally lifted it for me. Didn't even want it but—"
"He wanted you to have it," Evie finished, smoke venting from her lips in conjunction with the syllables. "Gosh, I never thought I'd live to see the day Dallas Winston's so hung up on a girl like that."
