Unforgettable

by Loretta Ellsworth

  I go to the closet and take the envelope out of the guitar case. How would Mom feel if she knew I had the money? How would Halle feel if she knew I was a thief?

  The hundreds dangle like Monopoly money stuck beneath a game board. I played Monopoly with Dink once. Dink cheated.

  I draw my fingers through the crisp bills. I can’t tell anyone about the money; not Mom or Halle, or even Dr. Anderson. And if I can’t tell anyone, then how can I spend it? What will they say if I buy something expensive? They’ll wonder where I got the money. It’s a lose-lose situation. I have all this money that I can’t spend.

  But no matter how scared I am, there’s no way I’m giving the money to Dink. I sit on the edge of my bed and kick off my shoes. I take out the DVD and the letter Roxie wrote, along with the three pages of case histories. I read them, all eighteen of them, including Halle’s grandfather. I read how he’d started at a young age at the iron ore mines before they closed down, and then transferred to the taconite mines, working his way up to middle management. He said that mining was in his blood; if you cut him, he’d bleed taconite. He’d fought the cancer for three years before he died. I read how he was Halle’s best friend, and how much she misses him every day.

  I stop reading. That’s who she’s really afraid of losing. It’s not the club, really, or the protesting. Halle’s grandfather is the sparkle in her voice. I hear it whenever she talks about him. I even hear it on the video when she mentions him.

  Suddenly, I know what I’m going to do with the money.

  Hunter’s Move

  Halle taps her fingernails on the wooden table, waiting. “So, how’d you do on the test?”

  “Ta-da. B!” I show her the front of my test, with the words “Great Improvement” beneath the score.

  Mrs. Algren makes a shushing sound from her desk. I nod in acknowledgment, but it’s not like we’re making as much noise as the group sitting on the other side of the library. Jenna White is there with two other girls. She blows her nose and lets out small sobs, which elicit waves of comfort from her tablemates.

  Halle scrunches up her face. “Not bad. Although … I thought you’d ace that test.”

  I considered it, but going from a C-minus to an A seemed extreme. Plus, what if Mr. Shaw decided that I didn’t need tutoring anymore? “Really, I’m happy with this grade. All thanks to you,” I say.

  She grabs the test out of my hand before I can stop her. “What’d you get wrong?”

  I instinctively reach for the test.

  She holds it away from me. “What? Can’t your favorite tutor see your test results?”

  “You’re my only tutor.”

  “Which makes me your favorite.”

  “Can’t argue with that logic.”

  My fingers itch while she looks at the test. I open and close them in a fist, fighting the urge to grab it away from her and stick it in my backpack.

  “This is odd,” Halle says, and my heart thumps. “The one easy part of the test, easy if you’ve read the book, anyway, is matching the quote with the character. You got most of those wrong.” She shakes her head, as if she doesn’t understand. But how can she? I needed to get a certain percentage wrong, and this was the easiest way to do it. It was either that or leave one of the essay questions blank.

  “I ran out of time. I didn’t even read them, to be honest. Just filled in the blanks.” I sound as sincere as I can, considering that my heartbeat is pounding in my ears.

  “Oh, well, that explains it.” But she looks at me oddly.

  I shrug and try not to disintegrate into the desk. “Next time I’ll do better.”

  “Next time you’ll ace it,” Halle says.

  My fifth-grade teacher flashes in my mind.

  Miss Noll was a young teacher with long blond hair, and she acted like every fifth-grade boy had a crush on her, and half of us did, but she was always trying to be our friend instead of our teacher. When I memorized every town in California from a state map hanging in her room, she started telling everyone that I had a perfect memory. She said it to be nice, but it made me feel different. Up until then my teachers had always known I had a great memory, but they didn’t make as much of it or expect me to be a performing robot. Miss Noll had me recite pages out loud after I’d read them. “You aced it. You’re a genius!” she’d say and high-five me. Afterward, the rest of my class would make snide comments, like “Are you sure you’re human?” Some of them started calling me Data from the Star Trek shows.

  Hunter enters the library surrounded by his posse. He waves at Halle. This causes Jenna to erupt into renewed sobs at her table.

  It also makes Hunter uncomfortable. He avoids eye contact with Jenna and stops in front of our table. “Say, Halle. I hear you’re doing some tutoring.” He looks at me and it’s clear he thinks that’s the only reason she’s sitting with me. Like she wouldn’t be sitting here otherwise. “I could use some help with math. You were a big help last year. I just wonder if you might make some time for me. I’m free tonight, if you want me to come to your house. Or you could come to mine.”

  “I’m not taking on more students right now. Maybe Jenna can tutor you.”

  Hunter flashes a brief look in Jenna’s direction and squirms. “We broke up last night.”

  Halle looks at Jenna’s table. “That explains a lot.”

  “I know you probably hate me, but I really do need a tutor. I’m willing to pay you,” he offers. He sounds sincere and completely innocent, but I know he’s not, because this is just what Brad warned me about.

  “I already have plans with Baxter tonight. But you can join us to study at my house if you really want,” she says all friendly-like, and I wonder if she’s reconsidering his offer now that she knows Jenna’s out of the way. Then it hits me. I’ve just been invited to Halle’s house.

  Hunter’s face clouds over. I can tell he doesn’t like the fact that I’ll be there. “Yeah, well, at seven o’clock, then? Thanks,” he says, then turns and leaves.

  Halle grabs my hand. “You have to come to my house tonight. Say you will.”

  “I will.” There’s no way I’m leaving the two of them together.

  She lets out an exaggerated breath. “Oh, thank you, Baxter.”

  “Why did you go out with him to begin with? He doesn’t seem like your type.”

  “Oh, Hunter can turn on the charm when he wants. He helped me smash open the pop machine last year. Said I brought out the activist in him.”

  She shakes her head. “Don’t you hate it when people act phony? He did that stuff, which he didn’t really believe in, just to make me like him.”

  “So … you did like him,” I say. I search her for the truth, but Halle’s face is the only thing I can’t memorize, and the truth remains elusive.

  Halle reaches over and gives me a quick kiss on the lips. She smiles at me reassuringly.

  “At one time I did. But I would have broken up with him eventually. We’re just too different.”

  I tuck my test into my backpack. I’d object to that, but I don’t want to make a case for Hunter. I want to believe that we’re different, that I’m not like him at all. But the truth is that I’m doing the same thing he did. And he has more in common with Halle than I do. All I have is a few months of kindergarten memories tucked away like a movie in a corner of my mind. The Halle I knew was shy and scared and hid behind the walls of a cardboard castle. Somewhere in the years between then she’s come out of her shell and become a brazen leader who speaks her mind and goes her own way without conforming to anyone else’s standards.

  I think of Daisy, of how Halle said she was a different woman than the one Gatsby fell in love with, and how he couldn’t see that. Am I doing the same thing, following an idea of a girl I knew years ago?

  Then why do I feel the way I do? Why can’t I stop thinking about her? Why does every moment with her seem like the only time I’m really alive?

  I want so much for Halle to know the real me, to like me for who I am. Bu
t I can’t take the risk. I can’t lose her. Maybe I was infatuated with Halle at five years old. But I’m hopelessly in love with her at fifteen.

  Why It’s Normal to Be Jealous

  “This is where your tutor lives?” Mom’s eyes pop when she pulls into the U-shaped driveway. “What do her parents do for a living?”

  “Her dad works at the taconite plant.” I get out before she can ask any more questions. My fear is that our six-year-old Corolla will stall before she makes it out of the driveway.

  I’m early. My plan is to beat Hunter here. I don’t want to find him cuddling up to Halle. I’d rather it be the reverse, but what I’m really hoping for is that Hunter doesn’t show up at all.

  Halle leads me down a hallway into a spacious kitchen that’s roughly the size of our whole townhome. There’s a two-tier island in the middle with a granite surface and padded bar stools. The custom cherry cabinetry rises up to ten-foot ceilings. A patio door leads out to a darkened three-season porch and deck. Halle directs me to a small table in a rounded area of the kitchen, what Mom would call a breakfast nook. “Hunter’s not here yet. I thought we’d set up at the table. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll go get my books. There’s juice and bottled water in the fridge.” She leaves me alone.

  I set my backpack on the floor next to the table and take out my math book. It still bothers me that Halle invited Hunter to her house. Why didn’t she just say no? Is it because she still has feelings for him?

  Halle’s dad walks into the kitchen. He doesn’t see me at first. He opens the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of water. I make a small coughing noise.

  He turns around. “Oh. I didn’t know Halle had company.”

  I stand up and nod. “Hi. I’m Baxter.”

  Her dad comes over and shakes my hand, a firm but quick handshake. “Nice to meet you, Baxter.” There’s no hint of recognition. I don’t think he knows I’m one of the protesters at the taconite plant. I wonder what he’d think of me if he knew how I spent the sixty-five thousand dollars.

  He nods at my book. “Doing some studying?”

  “Yes, sir. Halle’s tutoring me.”

  “Tutoring? Well, I’m glad to see her spending her time wisely. I half expected you to be making protest banners.”

  “If Halle asked me to make them, I would,” I blurt out. “I mean, I think it’s admirable that she’s concerned about the environment.”

  He lets out a small sigh. “It would be more admirable if she’d find someplace to protest besides the taconite plant. I’m afraid we don’t see eye to eye on many things these days. Sometimes I wish she was five again. She was a lot easier then. At least that’s how I remember it.”

  “My mom says the same thing,” I reply.

  He smiles, and it sparks a memory:

  “Don’t leave me, Daddy!” It was the fourth day of school. Halle was crying and hugging her dad’s leg. I was playing nearby with a blow-up dinosaur that was bigger than me. If I put it down, someone else would have grabbed it.

  “I’ll pick you up after school,” he said patiently.

  “Can I call you to come get me?” she asked tearfully.

  “Sure, Halle. But your teacher has activities planned for you. You won’t want to leave early.”

  “What’s your phone number at work?” Halle asked.

  Mrs. Skrove came over and took Halle’s hand. “Do you want to play in the castle again?” she asked in a comforting voice.

  Halle nodded but tugged on her dad’s pant leg. “I need your number, Daddy.”

  He smiled and told her his number. “But I don’t think you’ll need to call me, sweetie. You’re going to have so much fun. Daddy has to go now or he’ll be late.” He bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

  Halle started to cry again. Mrs. Skrove nodded at Halle’s dad to leave and led Halle to the castle. Halle eventually settled down.

  Ten minutes later I saw Halle’s dad at the door of our classroom, peeking in. He had an expression on his face where he was smiling but looked like he might cry at the same time. I stood to go get Halle, but her dad put his finger to his lips and shook his head at me.

  I see that same expression on his face now.

  “My wife is at a meeting, but let Halle know that I’ll be in the den if she needs anything,” he says, then leaves.

  I help myself to a bottle of water from the massive steel refrigerator.

  The doorbell rings and Halle’s voice echoes in the hallway. “I’ve got it.”

  A minute later she comes into the kitchen, followed by Hunter.

  Darn.

  Hunter looks equally pleased to see me.

  “Oh, hi,” he says dismissively.

  “Well, let’s get to work, boys,” Halle says, and she sits in between us and bends down to read the first problem. Hunter is a year older but he’s taking the same math course as us. He moves his book close to hers and leans over so his face is almost touching her hair. He sniffs. The jerk is smelling her hair!

  Brad was right. Hunter is making a move right in front of me, like I can’t see what he’s doing. I stretch my foot under the table and wrap it around Hunter’s chair. Then I pull, using all those leg muscles I’ve built up from bike riding. Hunter’s chair flips backward and he lands on the floor.

  “What the …?” he yells.

  “Hunter!”

  Halle’s dad rushes out of his office. “What’s that noise? What happened?”

  “Um … sorry, Dad. Hunter was leaning back and his chair tipped.” Halle helps Hunter up. He glares at me.

  Halle’s dad raises an eyebrow. “Be careful with the furniture, won’t you, boys?”

  “Yes, Mr. Phillips.” Hunter’s ears and neck are pink.

  He waits until Halle’s dad goes back into his office before he gets in my face. “Your head is a hockey puck and I’m going to smash it to bits!”

  Halle pulls on his arm. “Hunter, what are you doing?”

  “Your psycho friend pushed my chair over.”

  “Really? Baxter? It’s so unlike him. Are you sure you didn’t just fall over?”

  He straightens and picks up his books. “Let’s try this another time, Halle. Give me a call when you get rid of this loser.” He points at me. “You’re roadkill.”

  I don’t care what he calls me as long as he leaves.

  Halle follows him to the door. I hear murmurs and it’s all I can do not to follow them. When Halle returns, her arms are crossed. “Did you really flip Hunter’s chair?”

  I cross my arms. “Did you really expect the three of us to study together?”

  “Some things look better on paper,” she admits.

  I confront her then. I don’t want to be demanding, but it comes out sounding exactly that way. “Why did you really invite Hunter? Do you still like him?”

  “Oh, God, no. I invited him because he really does have a hard time in math. Hunter told me he wants to turn pro, but he might play college hockey first. If he can get into college. It’s his only way out of this town.”

  “There are other tutors besides you.”

  She sits down on my lap. “You’re jealous? I don’t usually find that to be an endearing trait, but it looks kind of cute on you.”

  Every single nerve in my body tingles. My anger melts and changes into a raging blob of excitement.

  “He sniffed your hair,” I say, even as I’m guilty of doing the same as she leans up against me.

  Halle kisses me on the neck. “So I should be thanking you for protecting the honor of my tresses?”

  I look at the door to her father’s office. I feel guilty and scared and excited and I wish he wasn’t just beyond that door.

  Halle notices and whispers in my ear. “If my dad comes out and sees me here, he’ll ground me for a month.” She kisses my ear.

  I kiss her then, because how can I resist? She kisses me back, a deep, sensual kiss that threatens to knock me out, and just when I think one of us has to breathe, the phone rings. Halle jump
s off me and moves back to her own chair, where she busily writes down the next problem. I let out a ragged breath, feeling dizzy and hot, and I can barely see the words in front of me.

  “By the way, thank you for knocking Hunter down,” she says.

  And she still doesn’t look at me, but that’s good because I’m sure I have the dumbest smile on my face.

  A Pi Contest

  “Does anyone know who Daniel Tammet is?”

  Mr. Feege’s eyes scan the room quickly as though he doesn’t expect an answer.

  I’ve been reliving last night with Halle, the hot and sultry kiss that made me dizzy. I’m hoping that I can find a way, through reliving that kiss, to keep from feeling faint next time. But the memory is so raw, so fresh, and so sensory, that I still feel light-headed when I think of it. It’s made me feel invincible. When Hunter stuck out two fingers toward me from across the hallway to let me know he was planning something, I wanted to go up and shake his hand and thank him for leaving last night. If there’s a heaven, I’m in it.

  And now I’m going to see Halle tomorrow evening at the football game to perform a task that proves my loyalty, and I don’t want to risk passing out and missing the best part—the kissing part, if there happens to be one, from the girl I love.

  I rushed to school this morning to see Halle for a few minutes before class, and she gave me some leftover taconite cookies from her locker. She smelled like hairspray and fruity lotion and I inhaled deeply before leaving her. Then I saw Bob in the hallway and spoke to him before running to class. I never knew life could be this busy or this full. The last three years haven’t prepared me at all. Before that, elementary school was so structured. But high school is a completely different life. So many opportunities. So much freedom.

  Now I find my hand rising in the air of its own accord when the teacher asks about Daniel Tammet. My voice comes from inside, from that place where you answer when you’re sort of paying attention, but not really focused. “He recited pi to 22,514 decimal places.”