She turned her face aside and said. "Please, Gabe, not tonight! I am dead tired, and…"
Crack!
His open palm caught her across the face. "Bitch!" he growled. "I ought to give you something to remember!" He drew back his hand to strike, again.
"P-Please, Gabe, don't hit me again…" she begged, tears welling into her eyes from the pain and humiliation. "I-I'll go to bed w-with you, a-and you can have the ten you want…"
CHAPTER TWO
At about seven, that evening, Don Scott had dialed Marcy's number. Her voice came down the wire to him, knowing and throaty, "Oh, Don… I was wondering if you'd call."
"You know it… like you came on strong, this afternoon!"
"Like what…"
"Like you make the motions… send up smoke signals…"
"You curious…?" she queried.
"You know it…!"
"Curious enough to find out… for sure… Don?"
"Like groovy! Where?"
"My house," she said. "My parents have split!" She gave him her address, over near the college.
"I'm on my way."
"Bring some bread, Don!"
He thought she was joking. "You putting me on?"
"No, man! I said to bring bread… and that's it! Otherwise no party!" She hung up on him.
"CHRIST!" He spat at the dead phone. The little bitch! God damned little whore! Christ… And I thought she was interested in me!
Don looked in his wallet; he had a ten-dollar bill he was saving. He had been planning to use it for the next school dance scheduled for the following Friday. Oh, well, maybe I can earn some more before then… or sell something to get a little extra bread! Christ! I've got to see Marcy, though.
He went back into his bedroom; his search turned up another 75 cents in change. He'd have enough for a couple of packs of cigarettes. An inspiration struck him and on impulse he carried it out. Carrying the ten-dollar bill was foolish, he decided; he should have two fives, instead.