When Jem turned 16, he decided there were better things to do rather than have his little sister follow him around. He began to avoid me like I could somehow give him an infectious disease. He requested for a lock on the door between our rooms, but Atticus refused. As hard-headed as Jem was, he went down the hardware store and installed the lock himself. I told Atticus, who only told me to leave him alone, and that the lock wouldn't be used forever.

When Dill came for the summer, Jem still continued ignoring me, although he'd have a conversation or two with Dill. This made me a little angry, and also a little worried, as I wondered what I've done to Jem. I began thinking about everything I had said or done to him in the past. Atticus told me not to worry, as it was all a stage of life nearly every teenage boy goes through.

Dill and I spent our summer doing what we've been doing before. We swam in the lake, played in the woods, and sometimes visited Boo Radley at his house. He promised to teach us how to whittle soap.

While Dill and I chased fireflies and attempted to form little fishes from soap, Jem spent most of his time downtown with his group of friends. There, they would go visit the O.K. Café, where they'd find Mary Rose and her grandmother. Mary Rose, according to Jem, was the "belle" of his high school, and he was going to attempt to woo her before any other boy. I scoffed at him, and he returned with, "If you don't get to learning how to be a girl, Angel May, nobody'd be tryin' to woo you, and you'll be livin' with Atticus 'till you're 90."

I never let his response bother me. If I'd wanted someone to woo me, I'd do something about it.

It wasn't just Jem that seemed swept up in a different world. Though Dill kept my company, there was something off about him. He began acting strange, though only at certain times. It was times when Jem would walk by, or when Jem would speak to him. His cheeks would redden and he wasn't capable of forming intelligible responses. There'd be a strange glimmer in his eye when he'd look at Jem, it was as if he'd seen some kind of ethereal creature.

One summer day, Atticus had some errands to run, and Calpurnia had to run home to an ailing family member. Atticus pestered and nearly bribed Jem to take us with him and his friends at the lake. Dill and I didn't want to go swimming anyway, Cecil Jacobs had told us about shark teeth washing up on the shore, and he proudly showed us his. I told him it was fake, but Dill insisted we try to find them.

By noon, it had turned out I was right, we'd walk as far as we could, and there were no signs of any shark teeth. We sat on the shore, a feet or two beside Jem and his friends. They'd just got done swimming, and was now eating lunch. Jem kept me at a distance where he could still see me, yet he was able to make it look like he had nothing to do with me.

Dill and I took out the lunch that Calpurnia had made for us. I was hungry from all shark-teeth hunting, and I never thought a sandwich could taste so good. Dill's sandwich remained untouched, however. He placed it beside his foot, and he stared off somewhere. I looked over to where his gaze was pointed to, and I soon realized he was staring at Jem.

Jem and his friends were wearing their bathing suits, which were shorts. They've all been tanned, and their skins glistened in the sunlight. They, especially Jem, looked somehow interesting to Dill, as he could not keep his eyes off him.

"Dill?" I asked. Dill was out of it for a moment, then he realized I had called him.

"Yes?" he said.

"Why do you look at Jem like that?" I asked.

"Like what?" he said, innocently.

"You know, funny. You look at him funny," I replied.

"Funny?"

I was getting frustrated.

"You look at him funny, Dill. You act like a busted cuckoo clock around him," I said.

"I don't know," Dill said, his voice trailing off. He looked at his feet.

"What do you mean you don't know?" I said, "You don't know you're lookin' at him?"

"I know I'm lookin' at him, Scout," he said.

"Why do you look at him funny then?" I asked. I felt like we were running in circles with the conversation.

"I don't know," he said, his voice trailing again.

"Dill!" I said, throwing my hands up. Jem looked for a minute, and then minded his own business again. "Is there something weird about Jem?"

Dill hesitated for a moment. He took a deep breath, then said "There must be. Because for some reason, I like looking at him."

I scrunched my eyebrows. How could he like looking at Jem?

"What do you mean?" I asked. Something felt funny about the situation, and I quickly lost my interest in the sandwich I was eating.

"I don't know, Scout," he said, he took another deep breath, "There's somethin' 'bout him I can't explain. It makes me wanna look at him all the time, and when I do, my stomach feels funny."

"If lookin' at him makes you sick, stop lookin' at him then," I said. I nearly laughed; I found it slightly amusing that Jem's presence made Dill fell a little ill.

"No, no, it doesn't make me sick," he said, "It gives me a strange little feeling in my stomach. If ya want me to be honest, I like the feeling."

I was confused. How could looking at my brother give you a cornucopia of emotions? Jem was a magician, I thought. Or he must have been putting something in Dill's meals.

"I don't understand, Dill," I said.

"I don't either," he replied, "Can we stop talkin' about it, please?"

"All right," I said, though my curiosity had now been eternally sparked. I'd find out what was wrong with Dill if it killed me.

We all walked home in silence, except for the jokes Jem's friends would crack every now and then. I didn't understand them or understand why they were so funny at least. I occupied myself by secretly observing Dill. He was still under some spell, because he seemed to still be focused on staring at Jem. I'd look at Jem too, hoping I'd see him to some weird gesture or see his lips chant some incantation. Maybe it's a joke the two of them have decided to play on me.

Dill's strange behavior carried on for a few more summers. It wasn't until we were much older that I'd finally come to understand why Dill was acting so strange.