We were still equals. “Ain’t so high and mighty now, are you!” I screamed, sailing in again.
He was still on the bed and I couldn’t get a firm stance,
so I threw myself at him as hard as I could, hitting, pulling, pinching, gouging.
What had begun as a fist-fight became a brawl. We were still struggling when Atticus separated us.
“That’s all,” he said. “Both of you go to bed right now.”
“Taah!” I said at Jem. He was being sent to bed at my bedtime.
“Who started it?” asked Atticus, in resignation. “Jem did. He was tryin‘ to tell me what to do. I don’t have to mind him now, do I?”
Atticus smiled. “Let’s leave it at this: you mind Jem whenever he can make you. Fair enough?”
Aunt Alexandra was present but silent, and when she went down the hall with Atticus we heard her say,
“…just one of the things I’ve been telling you about,” a phrase that united us again.
Ours were adjoining rooms; as I shut the door between them Jem said, “Night, Scout.”
“Night,” I murmured, picking my way across the room to turn on the light.
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