"You o-okay, Carli?" Bill's voice spoke up from behind me, "Just enjoying the water Billy." I told him, swimming closer to him.
"You sure?" He asked uncertain of my reply. "Yeah, just didn't want to be getting in the way." I told him sadly. The conf...
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°🎈Third Person's POV🎈°
It was like any other day in the Horner household. Kevin Horner, the man of the house, was at work providing for his family, while his wife, Jane Horner, busied herself in the kitchen preparing lunch for their three children. Their youngest, Alex, sat in front of the television, engrossed in his toys. Steven, the eldest, had locked himself in his room, headphones on.
"Mom, can I go over to Bill's?" Carlita Horner asked, stepping into the kitchen with a bright smile. The middle child—and the troublemaker—Carlita kept her parents on their toes daily. Yet, despite her antics, they loved all their children equally.
"I thought he was supposed to come here today?" Mrs. Horner replied, eyeing her daughter. Carlita never had many girlfriends, dismissing them as "a bunch of wannabes." Instead, she spent her time with the boys—especially at the Denbroughs’ house. And as her mother, Mrs. Horner was well aware of Carlita’s little crush on Bill.
"He was, but he caught the flu after we played in the rain the other day," Carlita explained, glancing outside as another downpour began. Their parents had warned them countless times about playing in the rain, but the kids never listened.
"You’d still go even if I said no, wouldn’t you?" Mrs. Horner sighed. "You know you could get sick too."
Carlita widened her big brown eyes, giving her mother the most convincing puppy-dog look.
"Fine," Mrs. Horner relented in her sternest voice. "But be back before dinner."
Carlita kissed her mother’s cheek, snatched a cookie from the counter, and dashed out the door, sprinting toward the Denbrough house. She knocked eagerly, and Mrs. Denbrough answered with a warm chuckle.
"Carli! Come on in—Bill’s in his room."
"Thank you, Mrs. Denbrough," Carlita said, hurrying upstairs as the soft melody of a piano filled the house. The music always made the Denbrough home feel warm and peaceful.
Bill sat on his bed, folding a paper boat, oblivious to Carlita lingering in the doorway.
"Sure I won’t get in trouble, Bill?" a small voice piped up from near the window. Georgie, Bill’s little brother, stood there, peering outside.
Carlita watched as Bill’s fingers moved deftly over the paper. "D-don’t be a w-wuss. I’d come with you if I weren’t d-dying," Bill said, faking a cough for emphasis.
Carlita shook her head, laughing softly. "That’s not a nice thing to say to your brother, Billy."
Both boys whipped around in surprise. "Carli!" Georgie shrieked, launching himself into her arms.
"Hey, big man," she murmured, hugging him back.
"W-when did you g-get here?" Bill asked, his stutter softening around her. Where others saw it as a flaw, Carlita found it comforting. His eyes sparkled as he looked at her.
Georgie clung to her leg, glaring at his brother. "And you’re not dying."
"Y-you didn’t see the v-vomit coming out of my nose this morning?" Bill pointed dramatically toward the bathroom.
"That’s disgusting," Georgie groaned, scrunching his face.
Carlita agreed—she didn’t need that image stuck in her head—but the brothers’ bickering was always entertaining.
"Okay, go get the wax," Bill said, finishing the boat.
"From the cellar?" Georgie’s voice trembled as he looked up at Carlita, fear flashing in his eyes.
"You w-want it to float, don’t you?" Bill raised an eyebrow.
Carlita crouched to Georgie’s level, taking his hands. "Want me to come with you?"
She’d always treated Georgie like her own little brother—something Bill admired. She was never cruel unless someone hurt the people she loved.
"No, it’s okay, Carli. I’ll be brave," Georgie declared, puffing out his chest.
"Pinky promise?" She held out her pinky.
"Pinky promise!" He linked fingers with her, then marched out the door with newfound confidence.
"T-thank you," Bill said softly.
"For what?" Carlita sat on the edge of his bed, puzzled.
"For treating Georgie so well."
She smiled. "He’s like my brother too. I’d never treat him any different."
Georgie burst back into the room, panting. "You okay?" Carlita asked.
"Yeah," he gasped, handing Bill the wax. "The cellar was just… scary."
"You’re such a brave boy," Carlita said, ruffling his hair.
Bill finished waterproofing the boat and scrawled something on its side. "There you go, Captain. S-she’s all ready."
"She?" Georgie tilted his head.
"You always c-call boats ‘she,’" Bill explained.
"Thanks, Billy!" Georgie hugged him, dissolving into giggles when Bill tickled him.
"Georgie," Carlita suggested, "why don’t you ask Alex to play with you?"
"Really?" His eyes lit up.
"Just ask my mom first."
With a shout of "Bye!" Georgie bolted downstairs. A moment later, the front door slammed shut.
Carlita leaned against Bill by the window, resting her head on his shoulder. "You okay?" she murmured, noticing the worry in his eyes.
"J-just nervous about him going out alone," Bill admitted.
"That’s why I sent him to get Alex," she said.
Bill smiled gratefully. Outside, the two boys waved up at them before chasing the paper boat as it sailed down the rain-soaked street.
"Be careful," Bill said into the walkie-talkie—he always made sure Georgie carried one.
Carlita nudged him playfully. "Hey, Bill… wanna cuddle?"
"C-Carli, stop j-joking around," he stammered, flushing crimson.
"Sorry," she mumbled, feigning sadness—though she hadn’t been joking at all.
