“Pick a fight with someone and win?”
Yeah, that’s a good idea, kid. Live like I did. But if you want to be really tough, get a gun. Wave that fucking thing around. Almost get put away for years and years…
“No,” I said. “Learn guitar. Your name is Rhett, and you play guitar.”
Rhett picked up his guitar and practiced his chords again. This time, he transitioned with ease. Perfectly from a G to a D, back to G and then down to a haunting E minor.
I smiled and nodded. “There it is. Now we just need to wo-”
Rhett’s phone beeped in his pocket. He scrambled with a sense of fear to check it as quickly as possible.
“Shit. My ride is here.”
“You still have ten minutes, kid,” I said.
“I have to go. Right now.”
Rhett hurried to pack up his guitar and notebook.
At one point, he was damn well shaking. I grabbed his wrist. “Hey. Is everything okay at home?”
“You know that answer, Foster,” he whispered.
I nodded.
I looked at his lip again.
“That happen at home?”
“No.”
Probably a lie.
Rhett stood and took money out of his back pocket.
I jumped up and put my hand over his. “Not today. This one’s on me.”
“You can’t keep giving me free lessons, Foster.”
“I’ll do what the fuck I want, kid. Take that cash and hide it in your guitar case. Then get yourself something good to eat. Forget about Amber and think about Carrie.”
“What? Girls…?”
“Hey, you never know when the right one will pop up and scratch her name on your guitar.”
“I thought you said nobody ever touches your guitar?” Rhett asked.
I grinned. I looked up. My heart warmed over in a way that I hated. “Well, there’s only one girl that carved her name into my guitar…”
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What You Don't Know (True Hearts Book 6) Page 31