“Hey, Selena…”
“What?” asked Selena, who was busy feeling the floor of the cab with her hand. “I can’t find the cover to my racket!” she moaned.
Despite the warm May weather, both girls were wearing topcoats over their shorts.
“You put it in your pocket,” Ginnie said. “Hey, listen—”
“Oh, God! You’ve saved my life!”
“Listen,” said Ginnie, who wanted no part of Selena’s gratitude.
“What?”
Ginnie decided to come right out with it. The cab was nearly at Selena’s street. “I don’t feel like getting stuck for the whole cab fare again today,” she said. “I’m no millionaire, ya know.”
Selena looked first amazed, then hurt. “Don’t I always pay half?” she asked innocently.
“No,” said Ginnie flatly. “You paid half the first Saturday. Way in the beginning of last month. And since then not even once. I don’t wanna be ratty, but I’m actually existing on four-fifty a week. And out of that I have to—”