Freedom Train

January 18, 19, 28, 1963

January 18, 1963

It was a cold night. So cold, in fact, that Annabeth was almost glad that she wasn't going to be meeting Terry behind the barn.

Almost.

Luckily for the two, every time they had met before the weather hadn't been too frosty- Nothing a coat couldn't cure. The last few times, the blankets Terry brought proved to be helpful as well. It also helped that the wind usually came from the North and their position behind the barn frequently blocked most of its brutality. But Annabeth doubted even the barn could've congested the wind that night.

Bobby still hadn't told Annabeth what he'd been up to. She knew he had something up his sleeve. He would hint at it when she saw him, but never said anything one way or another.

She hadn't seen as much of him recently, either. He was very secretive about how he was spending his time. Annabeth didn't think it was her place to ask any questions when she had so many secrets of her own. But honestly, her curiosity was beginning to get the better of her.

"I promise I'll tell you all about it soon, Annabeth," he assured Annabeth as he held her hand from across the cluttered table at Jim's.

No matter how many times she tried to get Bobby to divulge his secret, he just kept that tight-lipped smile in place and continued to be just vague enough to drive Annabeth more and more crazy in wonder.

"That's the same line you used last time I asked you what you've been up to, Bobby Warren," she scolded gently.

"And what did I tell you the last time?" he prompted.

"That it was nothing bad and that I should trust you."

"And do you trust me?" he asked gently.

Annabeth truly did trust Bobby. Truth of the matter was, it was Annabeth who shouldn't be trusted.

She was sitting there, holding Bobby's hand, when her heart so very clearly belonged to another man. Even if Bobby couldn't see it, she knew it, which made it all so much more... Wrong...

"I do, Bobby. I trust you," she guaranteed him with a soft nod as she tried to push her own guilt to the side.

Bobby squeezed her hand and smiled.

"Now that we've settled that for the day, I have a different surprise for you."

"What's that?" she asked, trying to seem more excited than she was.

"I got us tickets to the picture show in the next town over. Lawrence of Arabia is playing."

Annabeth smiled genuinely. It did sound exciting to go and see a film on the big screen. She had only gone once with her Mama for her 16th birthday. It was truly magical to watch a story unfold on a screen that size. And she had heard great things about the movie he had procured them tickets to.

"That sounds real swell, Bobby. I've heard that picture might win an Oscar!" she replied.

Shortly after, Bobby paid the tab and the two of them headed toward the theatre.

As it would turn out, Annabeth still couldn't tell you whether or not the picture was Oscar worthy. Embarrassingly, she fell asleep twenty minutes into the show. When the movie ended and Bobby nudged her awake, she was surprised to see that he was more amused at her impromptu nap than he was irritated.

He ribbed Annabeth good naturedly about her snoring during the drive home, and they laughed about the young couple in the back of the theatre who couldn't seem to keep their hands to themselves once the lights dimmed low.