Heyy guys! So this is actually a story for my school. No, it hasn't started yet, but this was one of the book for my summer reading. I was given the oppertunity to write a story for the book To Kill A Mockingbird and I just had to take it! I'm Tell me what you all think of it. If you've never read the book, you should! It's actually not that bad! Yeah, a school book that isn't horrible? I'm surprised to. Anyway, here you go!

A promise Never Forgotten

It had been many years since that incident. Many years indeed.

Jean Louise Finch, better known as "Scout," is now nearly fifteen. Her brother Jem, nearly eighteen, is getting ready to go to some fancy, prestigious law school. Ever since the Tom Robinson case, Jem had set his heart and mind to do everything and anything in his power to help those in cases similar to Tom's. Maycomb may have long forgotten the incident (minus the occasional gossip from one of the many ladies), but Jem never did. How could he? After Bob Ewell broke his arm, Jem never got onto the high school football team; he never got onto any football team. But now, Maycomb was back to its peaceful ways. That is unless you ask Scout.

"All the ladies here are monstrous," she would tell you. "Always trying to get me to change my ways. Let me tell you, I've changed enough thank you very much, but I will never ever, ever change my name. It's Scout and if you don't like it, then that's your problem ain't it?"

According to all of the ladies of Maycomb, especially her annoying Aunt Alexandra, Scout should've recounted her ridicules, boisterous ways long ago. In a way, Scout had. She knows the proper way to sit and walk, she can now endure at least one hour of her Aunt's horribly boring book club, and as she put it, "I can cook one ruddy good meal. Now you better like this stew here, or else."

In fact, she had just spoken these words to her brother. It was a sunny day; school had just gotten out only a week before.

"Aw, come one Scout! I don't want to eat leftovers," Jem complained.

"You weren't complaining yesterday at dinner, were ya?" Scout took the ladle and dumped the soup into Jem's bowl. Part of its contents splashed onto the table.

"Jean Louis Finch!"

Scout turned toward the kitchen. There in the kitchen doorway stood a thin, stiff woman. She wore a floral dress and a disapproving look on her face; her hair was in a tight bun. Scout often joked that if her hair wasn't pulled so tightly, maybe her aunt would relax a little more.

"Yes, Aunt Alexandra?"

"A lady does not splash food onto the table."

"You're right, but today I'm not a lady." Scout moved around the table so her aunt could see what she was wearing. Alexandra had a look of horror on her face. "See? I'm wearing my coveralls today."

"Whatever for?" Alexandra asked, in an airy voice. She never understood why a lady would want to wear boy's clothes. Scout never understood why someone would want to wear dresses all their lives. They were heavy, uncomfortable, and you couldn't climb a tree in them.

"Why Dill's coming over!" exclaimed Jem. "He should be arriving here any minute."

Then, as if on cue, there came a knock on the door. However, the person didn't wait for an invitation. He just knocked and opened the door. In walked a young man. He looked younger Jem, but older than Scout. A huge smile was plastered on his face.

"Dill!" Scout practically jumped over the table to greet her summer friend in a fierce embrace.

"Hey Scout, Jem. Hello Mrs. Hancock." Dill nodded toward the woman still standing in the doorway. "Where's Mr. Finch?"

"Oh, he's working," Jem said. "He should be back around dinner time."

"But let's not think of work related things. It's summer! Let's have fun," Scout exclaimed as she took her brother and Dill's hand and marched out of the house. "Bye Aunt! See you later," she called over her shoulder.

Alexandra stood there in shock, but it wasn't long before a smile slowly crept onto her face. Though she would never admit it, she had come to like the Harris boy. After seeing him summer after summer after summer, Alexandra began to see potential in him. He had a kind heart and good morals for a sixteen-year old. He might be a bit spontaneous, but what boy wasn't at that age? Yes, he had a good amount of potential in Scout's Aunt's eyes.


Dill and Scout lay in the grassy field beside the lake. The sun hadn't even begun to set and already the three friends had done so much. They chased each other in a game of tag and wondered the town, catching up on what had happened the past year. Then, Dill had wanted to know everything about the college Jem was going to. Scout had to listen to an hour and a half of Jem's voice. It wasn't that she hated her brother's voice, but Jem had already told her everything she wanted to know about college and more. He wouldn't shut up about it ever since he found out. If her ears could bleed from too much talk, Scout was fairly sure she wouldn't have any blood left in her body. After that, Jem had to go to his job. He claimed he needed the money to help with his college tuition, but Scout didn't miss the wink he gave Dill. She didn't miss the blush that came onto Dill's face either.

That had been about two hours ago. Dill and Scout continued talking and they soon found themselves wondering toward the lake. When they had run out of things to say, they simply laid silently in the grass and listening to the sounds of nature. After half an hour, Dill sat up and finally broke the silence.

"Hey Scout?"

Scout remained laying on the grass. "Yes?"

"Can… Can I ask you a question?"

Scout opened her eyes. Was it just her imagination or did Dill's voice change an octave? After a moment of watching her old friend, Scout finally answered his question. "Of course, Dill."

"Do you remember when we were little? And I promised you something?" Dill had kept eye contact at first, but now his gaze was at the ground. His knees were hugging his chest.

Worried about his odd behavior, Scout sat up and put a hand on his arm. "Dill? Are you okay?"

Dill glanced at the hand on his arm. Then he glanced at the face belonging to the hand. "I'm fine Scout."

"Are you sure? Maybe we should go-"

"No, I'm fine," Dill insisted. "Just… Just do you remember?"

Scout bit her lip. She was certain she knew what it was that Dill asked her; she never forgot it. But they were just children when they made it. It never meant anything, right? It was just pretend, fantasy stuff. Right?

"Remember what, Dill?"

Initially, Dill seemed crestfallen, but after a few moments of watching her face, he began to smile. "You could never lie to me Scout."

Scout glared at him, which only seemed to cause Dill's smile to broaden. As the seconds passed by, Scout's glare didn't work. Rather than the usual conclusion, Dill only smiled more and more, his eyes lighting up with each passing second. Scout finally sighed in defeat.

"Okay yes. I do remember. What about it?"

Dill apparently didn't hear her. "You're even more beautiful when you're mad."

"What?" Scout didn't expect that.

"We've known each other a long time you know," Dill continued. "You and your brother were my first true friends in a long time. And you guys never wavered from your friendship. That meant a lot to me. With each summer, we all seemed to get closer and closer. And you seemed to get more beautiful. I never look at other girls back home. I can only think of you. Scout, you're my best friend. You always make me laugh and you know exactly what I need whenever I'm feeling sad. Even when we had our fights, we always made up because we just couldn't stay mad at each other for very long. We always have the best time together. We write constantly during the school year and I can talk to you about anything. Scout…I love you."

Scout stared in awe as she watched Dill pour his heart out. It was true for her to. All the things Dill said she did to him, he did to her to. Scout could always talk to him, even more so than her own brother and that scared her sometimes, though she would never admit it. Scout remembered all the times she and him were together. Whether as children or whether the times were more recent. Whether her brother was with them or whether they were alone. She watched as Dill seemed to get closer and closer to her almost as if he were in a trance. Scout never moved once from her spot. She watched as his lips formed the words, as the wind rustled his hair, as his gaze looked into her own. When he spoke the three words to her, she could feel her heart skip a beat. Had he really said it?

"Dill," Scout tried to keep a straight face, but a smile broke though. Seeing her smile caused Dill to smile more. How that was possible, Scout couldn't be sure. "Dill," she began again, "It sounds like you're proposing."

Dill laughed. He leaned in closer to Scout, who leaned in closer to him. He took her chin in his hand, she looked up unto his eyes. "Scout, I already have." Then he brought his lips down to hers.

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