Wait for It

Chapter Eighteen

W e were all busy looking back and forth between the two huge crate-like boxes on the lawn to really say anything. We all knew what was in them.

When Louie claimed that he’d finally saved up enough money to buy a kit that would get him a quarterpipe so he could skateboard at home, I hadn’t thought much of it.

His other aunt had sent him a hundred dollars for his fifth birthday—I would have given him ten if I was in her shoes—and with the cash he’d collected from everyone else, he’d almost reached his goal.