Forty-Seven Uses for a Paperclip (Completed)

Chapter Twenty-Five: Million Dollar Snacks

Chapter Twenty-Five

Million Dollar Snacks

"Poor Mr. Emerson." I say sadly, shaking my head as I get into my car.

Colton nods in agreement, opening the passenger side door. "That's got to suck. I mean, that dog basically just ate three million dollars."

I shake my head again, thinking of our teacher.

After Sergeant finished off his three million dollar snack, Mr. Emerson seemed a bit stunned. He didn't move from his place on the floor. Rather, he stared down at the spot where the soggy baseball card had once been and made diminutive noises of pain and suffering. Sergeant, as if sensing his rented-master's distress, laid his head in Mr. Emerson's lap and licked his hand.

Colton and I stayed to clean up the mess: shoving the bed back in place, gathering up the spilled dog treats, setting a hot mug of tea beside Mr. Emerson's limp figure. We decided it would be best if we gave Mr. Emerson some time alone, so we made a quiet exit to my car.

"Although," Colton says, his tone slightly more cheerful, "it's not like Mr. Emerson won't ever see the baseball card again. What goes in must come out, right?"

I take my eyes off the road to shoot Colton a disapproving look. "You're disgusting."

Colton shrugs, "Hey, it's the truth, hon."

We continue to make idle small talk the rest of the way home. I pull up at the sidewalk, glancing at Colton's house. "Your dad's home." I jut my chin towards his father's car, which is parked in the driveway.

The corners of Colton's mouth turn down.

Without thinking, I grab Colton's hand from where it's resting on his knee and give it a reassuring squeeze.

"You know," my lips form the words before my brain has wrapped around them, "someday you're gonna have to stand up to him."

Colton's brow furrows and his frown deepens. "I-"

"I know." I interrupt, knowing he's about to say 'I try'. "But you don't deserve to be treated the way he treats you."

Colton's lips make a long, thin line. He says nothing.