Unforgettable by Loretta Ellsworth Page A

flashes: July 18, at 10:44 p.m. Dink had another dozen roses in his hands. He was in the kitchen. Mom had just come home from her job at the newspaper. From the living room I could only see part of her, one hand on her hip. Dink’s voice was pleading. “Come on, Mary. You know I work on commission. Things are tough right now. I’ll help out as soon as I can.”
    â€œWhy do you spend money on flowers when you can’t help with the rent? You’ve only paid me one time in the last eight months,” she hissed in a low voice. Mom didn’t like to fight in front of me. She knew I’d remember it.
    â€œI have expenses, too,” he said angrily. “I pull my weight around here. Who fixed that leaky faucet last week? You’re lucky to have me.”
    He threw the roses against the wall. Red petals scattered across the floor. Then he slammed the back door on his way out. I knew he’d come home drunk. He always did when they fought.
    I wonder which memory Mom’s thinking of as she cries now. I go back to my room and Gatsby , and I read how Daisy’s husband Tom broke his girlfriend’s nose with his open hand in a single instant.
    Dink’s temper was like that. Unpredictable. One minute he was acting like we were best buddies, the next he was yelling at me and trying to scare me into doing what he wanted.
    I didn’t steal Dink’s money because he’d slapped me that one time. I stole Dink’s money because he used Mom and me. He made us trust him, and then he made me write down those credit card numbers. He was a fake from the start, and we both fell for it.
    Thoughts of Dink creep into my bed, making it impossible to sleep. Every sound unnerves me. Rattling windows. Creaking walls. The sound of a car driving by. Distant footsteps.
    â€œI know what you did, Baxter.” Dink’s voice reached across the aisle of the courtroom. “You took my money, didn’t you?”
    â€œDon’t listen to him. He’s going to prison. You don’t have to see him ever again,” Mom said, taking me in her arms.
    â€œGive it back,” Dink shouted. “I know you have it!”
    The guards pulled him away. Mom started crying. I pretended I didn’t hear Dink, but I could see him through the crease in Mom’s sweater. He was swearing and tugging against the guards like a dog on a leash.
    What will happen if Dink finds us? Why didn’t Mom kick him out sooner? Why did Daisy stay with her cheating husband when she had someone like Gatsby who adored her?
    I turn on the light and continue reading, rooting for Gatsby to win in the end as if my own life depends on it.

My First Date
    On the way to school I sit in my usual spot on the bus, fifth seat from the front on the left-hand side. We’re halfway to school when a green car passes us going in the opposite direction. For a moment I think it’s a Camaro. A metallic, fern green Camaro. But I’m not sure because I only got a glimpse and it’s gone now.
    I lean my head against the window and clutch my stomach. I have an acid taste in my throat. I look at my watch but the memories spill out like a waking dream and I’m stuck back with him again.
    I wrote the numbers down. Dink grabbed the paper from my hand.
    â€œI wish I could take you to Vegas, Baxter. Maybe when you’re a little older.” He sounded all friendly, like he hadn’t just slapped me across the face twenty minutes ago, like we were buddies again. But I wouldn’t forget. I’d never forget.
    Just the thought of Dink makes me sick. That acid taste fills my whole mouth. I imagine last night’s chicken splattering across the bus floor and I open the window and gulp air.
    An hour later I’m staring down at my Social Studies book, trying to get the memory of Dink out of my head when two hands reach around and cover my eyes.
    â€œDid you miss me?” Halle’s bubbly, daffodil voice provides