The process was dangerously easy. He selected a design that featured a retro gaming controller, typed in Leo’s email, and hesitated at the "Amount" box. He thought about Leo’s ancient, sputtering laptop and the way the kid’s eyes lit up talking about building a PC. He typed in a number that made his own bank account wince, but made his heart feel a little lighter.
"Worse," Elias muttered, holding up his phone. "I’m trying to figure out how to send a gift that doesn’t scream ‘I forgot you exist’ from a hospital bed."
The fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room hummed in a low, irritating drone that matched the buzz in Elias’s brain. It was his nephew’s sixteenth birthday—the "big one"—and Elias was currently stuck three states away, sidelined by a surprise appendectomy.
"Happy birthday, kid," Elias leaned back against the thin hospital pillow, the hum of the room finally fading into the background. "Just make sure you build something fast enough to call me without the lag."
He hit "Purchase" and watched the little loading circle spin. Success.