“You play?”
“Not yet.”
“Then how do you know you want one?”
“I’ve wanted one forever.”
Malcolm laughed. “Fair enough.”
He pointed toward the store.
“They sell the best. Go get one.”
Ethan stood, and we started walking.
Then he stopped. He looked at the envelope and back at Malcolm.
I knew that look.
It was the same expression he got when he was trying to solve something in his head.
“What is it?”
He walked back.
Malcolm frowned. “You forgot something?”
Ethan held out the envelope. “Here.”
Malcolm stared at it. “What?”
“My guitar money.”
“I can’t take that.”
“You said sometimes you sleep outside.”
Malcolm shook his head. “Kid, that’s your guitar money.”
“I can save again.”
“No.”
“Please.”
Malcolm looked at me. I didn’t know what to say.
Ethan looked at Malcolm.
“You ensured I got my money back when you could’ve kept it.”
Malcolm said quietly, “That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because it was yours.”
“And this is mine too.”
Ethan pushed the envelope into Malcolm’s hand.
“Take it.”
Malcolm’s eyes filled. “I can’t.”
