Malcolm didn't seem worried. "Your shift at the soup kitchen tends to be Tuesdays and Saturdays, right? I wonder if I could get on that shift as well. I've already spoken about volunteering for your meals on wheels program."
Tuck understood now. Malcolm was trying to push him out. Trying to take away something that meant so much to him. "If you think," Tuck said, his voice low, "that my own messed up, ridiculous excuse for a life means more to me than those people out there," he hissed, "you're dead wrong. I'm not leaving them."