She leaned out the window of the brownstone and stared down at the young man with greased-backed hair standing on the street below. “What do you want Billy Connors? You know if my dad catches you here, he’s gonna murder you.”
“I don’t care what your dad thinks. I love you, Sally Mae Hawkins. You hear me? I said I love you!”
“Hush with all that.” She said, waving her hand and blushing. “You need to git before my daddy gets home.”
“Say it. Say you love me, and then I’ll go.
“I love you.”
“Oh, uh…hey Mr. Hawkins.”
And have a Happy Birthday Rochelle!