“Then why do you try to beat it every time you see us?”
Ronnie swallows and looks the next thing to miserable.
“I—I’ve got to be getting home with these groceries,” he says. “My mother’s waiting....”
“Answer my question!” demands Tommy, looking vicious.
“I—I’ve forgotten it,” stammers Ronnie. “It’s storming harder, isn’t it?”
“Yes—it’ll be great weather for skiing after this snow packs down,” says Eddie, pointedly.
Ronnie blinks and glances around like he’s going to yell for help.
“Cut it,” says I, pushing the fellows back and taking matters in my own hands. “Ronnie, old boy, this must be a pretty lonely life you’re living,” I begins.
“These groceries are getting heavy,” Ronnie answers, shifting his packages around. “And I’m getting snow down the back of my neck.”
“You shouldn’t be alone so much,” I keeps on. “It’s bad for a guy to play by himself all the time. It makes him self-centered and mean. Besides, there’s no fun in it. What you need is to get out with the gang—to be one of us!”