Eller. :) How're ya'll doin'? I hope you're doing fine! I've had these huge headaches back and forth…maybe it's my conscious…idk. LOL. ANYWAYS. Yeah, I'm gonna update faster if I get a few more reviews, because I also need advice. XD;;;
PinkyKupkake: Glad you liked it! 0w0 Don't worry; I was trying to make it somewhat vague with what was going on with Nellie and her father. XD You should figure it out soon. ;D
QUESTION FOR YOU!
What all would you like to see more in here? :) Cecil/Scout…Dill/Scout…Dream sequences…Atticus…Nellie…Jem…anything?
Hope you like this chapter! 8D
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harper Lee's characters! They're all her own, kk? :) I only own this plot, fic, Nellie Bellesen, Clarence Bellesen, Jamielee Zinctin, Raymond Henries, and Mary Cinders. Thanks for reading, dudes! ;D
Walter and I helped Cecil get home, which he appreciated. We saw his father, who let out a sigh, a meaningful, yet quite sad, "Thank you," as he allowed his son in the house. Cecil waved us goodbye, which we waved back to. I sighed quietly as Walter and I walked to my house; his father was already over, so I invited him, as well. We trudged across the sidewalk, meeting Jamielee halfway there. Walter gently smiled at her while I gave her a confused expression.
"Hey guys," she said to us, holding a tray in her hands. "My ma made Cecil some brownies. Sure hope he likes 'em."
I got a whiff of the brownies on the tray, which made me smile out "Them brownies smell delicious, Jamielee!"
She sort of turned pink in the ears once I complimented the brownies. Nevertheless, she smiled, gave a single nod at me, and said "Thanks, Scout."
"No problem," I replied. "We just dropped Cecil off."
"Thanks, ya'll," she beamed, skipping toward the house in her white converse. "Happy Wednesday!"
"You, too," we waved back at her.
Once she was out of sight, I turned to Walter with a smirk gracing my face just above my chin. He gave me a confused expression which contained a cocked brow. I began to snicker as I walked on. He rushed to stop me quickly.
"What, Scout?" he inquired cautiously. "What's so funny?"
"I think you like 'er," I smirked at him, leaning my head in just a bit.
"Wha-What," he blurted out.
He went wide-eyed, stepped back several steps, and looked at me with fear shining in his eyes. I held my smirk for quite a while. I finally lost it after a moment or so, which made me laugh so hard I cried. I patted him on the shoulder as we walked back on track to the house. He rolled his eyes, completely dismissing the conversation, and followed me.
Once we arrived at the house, we caught Jem in the middle of the Cecil story. He was telling Atticus, Mr. Cunningham, and Cal all about the fight just as Walter and I sat at the table. Cal gasped once she heard about Raymond pulling out a knife, whilst Atticus let his eyes bug out. Mr. Cunningham whispered something and shook his head. Jem tossed his head in mine and Walter's direction quickly.
"Ain't that how it happened," he began, "or was he lyin'?"
"I asked Jamielee," I confirmed, "she said he was tellin' the truth."
He nodded slowly before lifting his milk to his mouth. Cal excused herself to get Walter and I some milk. Walter sputtered out a thank you, which made me smile softly. Walter was just one of those kids that could pull off that kind of shy-and-polite-kid stuff and be all cutesy with it. We drank our milk quietly as Cal sat back in her spot, engrossing herself in the conversation that Atticus and Mr. Cunningham had started.
It was most certainly a weird Wednesday.
POV of Cecil Jacobs
I walked into the house as I waved my friends goodbye with my left hand. My father rushed to find a washcloth as I sat down at the kitchen table. I may have been in fourth grade, but I still wasn't old enough to take care of myself…apparently. I sighed, put my chin in my left hand, and let my eyes follow my worried father rush around the house. How on earth would I tell him what happened? Oh, wait…duh. I could tell him what I told Scout, Walter and Jem. Pop finally found a washcloth, Petroleum Jelly, and bandages. He dabbed some soap into the wet washcloth and looked at me seriously.
"This may sting a bit, Cecil," he stated, which I nodded to, not caring much.
That is…until it touched me.
"Ow!" I yelped, pulling my arm back quickly. "Sting a bit, Pop?"
"'M sorry, son," he apologized, trying to pull my arm back to him, "but you shouldn't 'a taken it so easily. It hurts."
I slowly nodded as I reluctantly gave him my arm back. He gently dabbed the washcloth along my cut, which stung the Sam Hill out of me! I hissed inwardly each time it met my cut. Pop's eyes looked worried as he kept dabbing, which didn't help at all. It was over after at least two minutes, which, with all the pain that was concealed within it, seemed like hours. Pop finally lifted the washcloth from my arm, grabbed the petroleum jelly and showed it to me. I grabbed my arm and held it to my chest protectively.
"No." I stated.
"No, Pop," I challenged. "This ain't workin'! It only makes it worse! First you're lettin' soap all over my veins, now you're tryin' to rub jelly on me!"
"Cecil, it's only cold," he countered, "it won't hurt one bit."
I looked down at my arm, then at my father. His eyes were shining with…were those tears? Was my father worried for me? Was he afraid? I couldn't look at him. I turned my head back and looked at the sink before finally mustering up some courage to look at him once more.
"Honest?" I inquired.
"Honest." Pop replied.
I sighed and cautiously nodded, holding out my arm quite aversely and unsteadily. He rolled the jelly around the cut, which barely hurt. He then picked up the bandages and gingerly wrapped my arm up. I sighed in relief once it was all over. He then allowed me off the counter and waited for me to put my converse back on my feet. Next thing I knew, there was a knock on the door.
"I'll get it, Pop," I stated.
"Cecil, you might hurt yourself," he confronted anxiously.
"Openin' a door?" I replied sarcastically.
He sighed, waved his hand dismissively, and looked for shoes and a jacket. I shrugged, walked up to the door, opened it up, and saw none other than Jamielee Zinctin. I smiled at her softly, allowing her in.
"Hey, Jamielee," I greeted her, "How've ya been?"
"Alright I s'pose," she snickered, holding out a tray. "How're you?"
"Better," I sighed, holding my arm tenderly, "can't believe that li'l eedgit pulled a knife on me."
"Likewise," she agreed, looking at my arm before handing out her try once more. "So, I told my ma 'bout what happened today. She decided brownies'd be a nice way 'a sayin' how brave you're bein' 'bout all this."
"Aw man," I began, "thanks, Jamielee. Thank your ma, too. Here, follow me."
She did as told, following me into the kitchen. She set the tray of brownies down, whereas I took one. I told her how good they were, which she thanked me for. After a moment or two of silence, we began to talk.
"I didn't tell Scout what really happened," she admitted.
"Thanks," I sighed in relief, "I appreciate it."
"Not a problem," she replied, "but why hide it? It's kinda sweet. He made a joke 'bout Scout, you warned 'im, he insults her even more, you hit 'im, 'n he pulls out a knife. Ya go through all 'a that for her."
"True," I exhaled. "I just don't want her knowin' that. She likes that Dill kid."
She giggled quietly, "He's funny. He's got that duck-fluff hair, short…real funny kid."
"You fallin' for 'im to?" I snapped.
"Nah," she snickered. "Not so into that type. Mary's head-over-heels for ya, though."
"Really," I inquired, "I never noticed. I always thought…you kinda liked me."
She stared at me momentarily before laughing. "Not that I ain't flattered, but you ain't my type, either. I like the quiet, sorta respectin' types."
I smirked, being reminded of Walter. He had a thing for her, didn't he? It started last year…I don't know if he still did like her, though. She left after a few moments. My pop and I had to go to Miss Stephanie's right quick. She'd been dating a doctor lately. As we walked out of the house, Pop held the back of my overalls. It's what he used to do when I was a little one; when I more than likely would have run into the street.
I was thinking about maybe visiting Scout since we were getting so close to her house, anyway. Of course, thinking about something while walking down the street is dangerous with a bad limb…because I bumped into a tree. It made a huge pang go throughout my arm. I hollered and wailed for about three seconds before just growling and kicking the tree. What idiot decides to put cement in a tree, anyhow?
"You alright?" Pop queried, lowering himself to my level.
"Fine," I managed to moan out as I checked over my arm. "Dumb tree…don't like 'em."
"Trees are good, Cecil," he snickered, "you're just angry with this one."
"Yeah…" I growled at it once more. "Prob'ly."
We kept on until we reached Miss Stephanie's place. Lucky for us, she had her boyfriend over. He made me sit on the couch, which I agreed to. He unwrapped the bandages slowly, looking over my arm.
"How'd this happen?" he inquired.
"Raymond Henries pulled a knife on me." I shrugged.
"Oh, sweetie," Miss Stephanie sympathetically said as she ruffled my curls. "Will, is he going to be fine?"
He looked over my arm once more before nodding with a short smile. "He'll be alright. Just do what you've been doing."
"No more soap!" I wailed.
POV of Scout Finch
The following day was slow. Thursdays were always that way. Nellie came to school with a bump on the side of her head, Cecil came with a bandaged up arm, and Walter came in helping Cecil with his books. Sitting alone was getting so boring. All I did was watch Mrs. Everson write on the board, watch Raymond Henries sit in a corner and write "I will not bring weaponry to school" about forty times. So you can imagine how happy I was when my friends came in. The moment Nellie entered, I saw her bump.
"Nellie, you alright?" I queried. "How'd ya get that bump?"
"I'm fine," she replied quickly, "I just hit my head on a tree the way over here. How're you?"
"Fine," I responded slowly.
I was quite unsure of Nellie right then and there.
Mmk, so this chapter was somewhat short. Only around 1,500 words, but whatever. I promise the next one should be longer! REMEMBER TO TELL ME WHAT YOU'D LIKE TO SEE MORE OF! I've got a fun idea to get away from the drama, but it'll have to be tested out carefully.
Thanks for reading! REVIEWS KEEP ME GOING.