Well, here we are guys.

This is the last chapter. I hope I was able to give you guys (and the boys) the closure you all deserved.

Ah man, where do I even start. You guys are so great. Like, the updating schedule for this thing got so whacked up half way through, and though I'm sure a lost a handful of readers because of it, those of you that have stuck with me this entire time are truly amazing human beings. And patient. Can't forget that, that's really important.

So, thank you. Thank every single one of you for reading and, if you did, reviewing. I appreciated every ounce of support I got, be it in fanart or word or just thought form. Writing this fic was definitely a crazy ride, and though it took a lot longer than I had hoped, I'm glad I decided to see it through to the end.

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"I can't believe that's the last time I'll ever have to hold a pair of hedge clippers."

We're both sitting in Fish's still nacho infested car after our last day of having to work as Gobber's lawn maintenance summer slaves. He's behind the wheel and I'm seated beside him; our usually spots. My house is visible just outside the rolled down window, my dad's and Bertha's cars parked side by side in the driveway.

"There's always next summer," I remind him.

His baseball capped head turns quickly in my direction, a concerned look in his wide, dark eyes. "Wait. Are you seriously considering-"

"Gods, Fish, I'm joking," I tell him through a laugh, reaching over and unbuckling my seatbelt. "I hope today was the last time I ever have to push a lawn mower. I am so indescribably sick of those things."

A sense of relief seems to come over him, his tense shoulders and horror stricken expression both relaxing and softening at my reassurance.

"Okay. Good," he goes. "Because if you were gonna do it next year, then that means I would have to too, and I'm not too sure I'm down with that."

"Oh yeah? And why would you have to do it again too?"

"Because, if I didn't, you'd be paired up with one of the other guys and-"

"Yeah, okay, point taken."

"Admit it," he says with a smug grin. "You need me. I'm like your big, dependable bodyguard."

"As much as it pains me to admit, yes, you totally are." I reach over and push the car door open, turning in my seat and stepping out onto the curb. After shutting the door behind me, I lean over to look at him again through the opened window. "Though I'm pretty sure one day I'll be taller than you, so don't be too sad when I don't need your protection anymore, alright?"

He gives me a knowing nod. "I'll try my best."

"See ya Monday, Fish."

I hear the sound of his car leaving the curb and traveling down the street as I walk up to the front door and let myself in. I half expect the house to be empty as I enter - like I'm used to it being - but, of course, I'm wrong. It's virtually impossible for the house to be at complete peace anymore.

Firstly, the television's on, my dad sitting in his usual armchair as he watches what sounds like a baseball game. Bertha is reclined on the adjacent couch, leaning against the arm rest with a book in hand. She mouths the words as she reads them in her head, her eyes flicking back and forth across the page.

My dad's the first to notice me.

"Ah, you're home early," is his greeting as he turns down the volume on the television. "I assumed you'd go out to lunch with your Ingerman friend. We've all already eaten."

"That's fine." I slip off my dirty sneakers, throw them into the closet under the stairs, and make my way into the kitchen to raid the fridge for something to eat.

"How was work?" I hear Bertha asks, using her finger as a placeholder on her book.

I open the fridge and take out the leftovers from last night's dinner: overly sloppy joes - a Gobber creation. At least I'm wearing a shirt I don't necessarily care for, because eating this could have the potential of ending badly, stain wise.

"It was alright," I tell her, taking out a plate from the cupboard overhead. "I almost ran over Mrs Iverson's dog again, but y'know. I'm honestly just happy it's finally over."

"Oh, right. Today was your last day," I hear my dad think out loud.

"Going from being a part-time blue collar worker to a full-time student," Bertha adds with a smile. "You must be pumped."

I roll my eyes. "Ecstatic."

Bertha and Cami have been hanging out around our house a lot lately; not that I'm complaining. At first, it was kind of weird coming home from work or from being out with Fish or Jack or Astrid to see these two faces I'm not used to seeing every day. It's gotten easier though, especially since they've been staying for lunch and dinner more and more often.

As my dad's gone back to watching his game, Bertha's gone back to her book, and I'm pouring myself a drink, Cami makes her usual dramatic entrance. She bounds down the stairs singing some song I'm sure she's making up on spot, her more-tangled-than-ever hair flying every which way behind her. As she jumps over the last step and onto the wooden floor of the living room, I notice an annoyed looking Toothless dangling from her arms.

"You really shouldn't carry him like that," I warn her, leaving the kitchen with my food and drink and taking a seat on the couch opposite her mom. "He looks like he's contemplating a plan in which he claws your eyes out."

The small blonde looks briefly down at the cat dangling from her crossed arms. Despite the fact that I hear the little creature let out a low growl of disapproval, Cami doesn't look at all concerned.

"If he tries to claw out my eyes, I'll poop in his litter box," she tells me matter-of-factly.

Bertha lets out a groan as I hear my dad try to mask his chuckle with a heavy cough.

"Oh, don't groan at me, Mother," Cami goes. "It's called 'showing dominance' and it's a very important key element in any human-animal relationship." She waddles up to the couch, Toothless still suspended in her arms, and plops herself down with a bounce right in between me and her mom. "Burp here has neglected this key element, and now this cat walks all over him. It's really pathetic, isn't it Toothless?"

Toothless lets out another low growl in response.

Cami looks towards me. "He agrees, in case you don't speak Catanese."

I take a bite out of my sloppy joe. "I speak Catanese."

It's then that Cami lets her poor, furry victim go. Without a second of hesitation, Toothless quickly jumps from the unwanted grasp and into what he knows is my safe lap. Having found sanctuary there, he curls into a ball and begins to vibrate.

"Cami, come on," Bertha says, her finger once again marking her place in her book. "We're still qualified as guests here. Let's at least try and be nice to our hosts."

"Well, she isn't lying," I admit. "Toothless is a spoiled brat that walks all over me."

Toothless, right on cue, lets out yet another low growl that I can feel on my thighs, his bushy tail coming up and flicking me in the face as a comeback.

Cami reaches out and strokes his back, causing his hostile growl to turn into a satisfied purr. "I like your style, cat," she compliments him.

Once I've managed to down my sloppy joe without making a mess of any kind - Cami was an obstacle to get around, since she repeatedly tried to flip the messy plate into my face while I was eating off of it - I wash my dishes, then go to get my sneakers from the closet. My dad notices as I lace them up.

"Where ya headed, son?" he asks as I stand up.

"I promised Jack I'd hang out with him today."

"Why are you always hanging out with Jack?" Cami lets out in a groan, leaning over the back of the couch all dramatic like. She sticks her arms out in front of me so that I can't get by and to the door leading out to the garage. "Is he your booooyfriend or something?"

"What? No," I tell her, lifting her arms out of my way. "He's just my best friend."

"Yeah, suuure he is."

"Cami, stop it," Bertha tells her daughter with a tone.

"Well, I was thinking we could do something this afternoon together," my dad goes on before I can start defending myself against Cami's accusation and thank Bertha for backing me up. "You know. As a group. Just the four of us."

"But Dad, I promised him," I explain, trying to stress the promise part. The last time I broke a promise with Jack, he ended up getting knocked off a bike, having a seizure, and nearly dying. I'm not allowing that to happen again - even if the chances of something that tragic happening again is, I'll admit, a little extreme.

"I know, but Bertha and Cami are here to see the both of us, not just me." He has a look in his eye that tells me he's not going to budge. "The least you can do is-"

"Oh, Stoick, let the boy go be with his friend," Bertha interrupts. "School starts on Monday. Let him have his last days of freedom." She turns to look over the back of the couch at me, my hand resting on the garage door's doorknob. A small, encouraging smile appears on her face, a wink following it.

I can tell my dad doesn't want to let me go, but I can also tell he doesn't want to say no to Bertha when she's made it clearly obvious that she doesn't mind me going out. He reaches up to hold the bridge of his nose and lets out a sigh.

"Fine," he gives in. "Just be home for dinner, alright?"

"I'm making shepherd's pie," Bertha sings.

"In that case, you don't have to worry," I tell them both. "I'll be here for the shepherd's pie."

Cami follows me into the garage, asking, "Can I come with you?" as I make a beeline to my bike resting on its rack. "I've been stuck inside all day and Toothless is getting boring. I wanna go search for dragons or destroy something."

"Not today," I tell her, slipping on my fingerless gloves. "Jack told me he already has something planned."

"Like what?"

"I dunno. He wouldn't tell me."

"That's stupid."

"You can bring it up with him next time he comes over."

"I will."

Lifting my bike down from its rack and mounting the saddle, Cami goes on to ask, "Well, when you get back, can we do something fun and destructive? I know we can't leave the house because it'll be dark and our parents are stupid like that, but we could maybe make some super awesome swords out of those wrapping paper rolls in your dad's closet and gang up on them. They'd never see it comin'."

"That's actually a pretty good idea," I tell her. "They'll be expecting us to attack after dinner though, so make the swords while I'm gone. That way we can be prepared and get them when they least expect it."

Cami's eyes beam, a toothy smile on her face as she places her hands on her hips. "Wow. I've really taught you well, haven't I?"

I reach out and ruffle her hair. "Don't attack without me. I wanna be there to see their faces."

.

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The sun is almost unbearable. It's beating onto the back of my neck and head, like it's trying to burn a hole right through me. The icy lemonade in my hand though - provided by the lemonade master, Jamie Bennett himself - helps keep me safe and at a reasonable temperature.

I'm seated on the Bennett's front porch, my legs stretched out over my backpack filled with the supplies Hiccup and I will be needing for today. Sophie and Baby Tooth play out in front of me, both of them pretending to be, of course, fairies, neither seeming to be affected by the torturous heat. I don't know how little kids do it, but I'm infinitely jealous.

Jamie is seated on the steps beside me, skimming through one of his colorful comic books. Tooth is on my other side, stringing together two brightly colored candy necklaces for the girls.

"What time is it?" I ask.

Tooth laughs under her breath, not bothering to look up from her project. "Jack, you just asked me that a minute ago."

"Sooo… 12:27?"

"Seeing as it was 12:26 just a moment ago, yes, I believe that would make it 12:27."

I let out a deep sigh and lay back on the porch, resting my lemonade on my stomach and my head on one of my arms. The porch happens to be made of concrete, so its chill surface helps with keeping me cool through my thin shirt.

"He'll be here soon, Jack. Don't worry," Tooth tells me sweetly. I feel her delicate fingers brush up against my knee for a moment, then go back to her candy necklace making. The touch, more than likely meant to be a gesture of comfort, seems to work; I suddenly feel a little less weighed down.

It's approximately 12:38 when I hear the sound of bike tires against asphalt.

I spring to life, my gaze darting over towards the dirt road across the open yard. I had been right to assume someone on a bike had arrived, but I isn't the person I assumed it would be.

Astrid shouts a "hey!" towards us as she dismounts her baby blue bike, little Sophie and Baby Tooth both darting in her direction with open arms. Tooth waves back, and I let out a groan and fall back onto the porch again.

"Don't act so happy to see me, Overland," Astrid quips, Sophie now in her arms as she walks over to join us.

"He's waiting for Hiccup to show up," Jamie says beside me, not even looking up from his comic book. "He said he'd be here at 12:15, but he hasn't arrived yet."

"Yep, that's sounds like Hiccup alright," Astrid laughs. "He's good at being fashionable late."

"This is really late though," I mumble. "Even for his standards."

"Oh, don't overthink it. He'll get here. Eventually."

The blonde takes a seat on the ground beside Tooth, Sophie now resting snug in her lap. Baby Tooth goes on to ask if she can rebraid Astrid's hair, to which she humbly accepts. That leads to Sophie wanting to have her hair braided, so Astrid goes and does that. Jamie eventually has to get up from beside me and sacrifice himself so his little sister will stop crying about not having someone's hair to braid, considering Tooth's too busy making candy necklaces and I don't have enough hair to braid in the first place. In the end, we have a little braid train going, half the people in it not seeming to know what they're doing - mostly Sophie though, who's just throwing Jamie's hair this way and that while giggling up a storm.

Hiccup finally arrives around the time all the braiding has been done. He looks tired as he gets off his bike and starts wheeling it towards us, but a smile appears on his face nonetheless.

"You guys havin' a braiding party?" he asks.

"You know it," Astrid smiles up at him. "Want one?"

"Uh, I don't think I have enough hair."

"Nonsense." The blonde waves him over, prompting him to take a seat beside her. "Come here, Haddock. Let's see what I can do with that pathetic mop on your head."

Hiccup looks desperately towards me, and I take that as my cue to step in. "Actually, we have somewhere to be." Grabbing my backpack and getting up from the porch, I head over towards where I parked my bike, leaning against the side of the house.

"Like what?" Jamie asks, his eyes following me. I can tell by the way he asks that he's hoping he'll have an excuse to leave with us, so he can get away from all the girly hair braiding.

"Yeah. Like what?" Astrid and Tooth both ask in unison.

I'm about to tell them the truth - though the truth is honestly a little embarrassing and hard to explain - but Hiccup beats me to the punch by saying, "Like important guy stuff, that's what. You wouldn't understand."

Tooth laughs, Jamie says, "But I am a guy!", and Astrid rolls her eyes and goes back to messing with Sophie's hair.

"We'll only be gone for a little while," I assure them, looking specifically at Jamie's crestfallen face. Hating to see the forlorn in his eyes about not being able to tag along with us guys, I add, "Maybe we can get out the slip'n'slide after we get back. Have a little slip'n'slide party."

Not only does Jamie's face light up in excitement at the idea of a slip'n'slide party, but so does Sophie's and Baby Tooth's. I look over at Tooth for permission, though I doubt she can really say no at this point.

"That sounds like a great idea," Tooth agrees with a sweet smile. She looks back up at me. "I'll be sure to have them all in their bathing suits by the time you guys get back, okay?"

"Alright, sounds good."

"Have fun doin' your guy stuff," Astrid calls to us as we get on our bikes. "Whatever that means."

"Oh, trust me. We will," Hiccup throws back at her.

I want to point out to Hiccup that their playful banter could be misinterpreted as flirting, since Tooth told me that's something that couples or people that have feelings for each other do. By the way Hiccup's smiling like crazy as we kick off and start biking down the graveled road though, I can tell he already knows this.

"So, mind telling me where we're going?" he asks once we've left the proximities of the Bennett's front yard, thus the ear shots of the kids and the girls. "And what's inside the backpack. Mostly what's inside the backpack though. I'm curious."

I feel like filling him in, but I decide not to. Not yet.

"It's a surprise," I tell him instead.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it better be a good surprise. It's hot out and that lemonade you had back there looked really good and I want some as soon as we get back, so let's make this fast."

We bike farther down the graveled street, passed my house and towards the outskirts of the nearby woods. Eventually we arrive at the head of a very familiar trail, trees and shrubs acting as barriers on either side.

"Are we gonna ditch our bikes?" Hiccup asks.

I nod. "It won't take long to get there on foot."

"Get where?"

"To- hey. Don't try to trick me into telling you where we're going. That's cheating."

"Dang it," Hiccup goes, snapping his finger at his foiled plan. "And I really thought I had you there."

We rest our bikes up against some nearby trees, me keeping my backpack firmly on my back as we start heading towards the trailhead. I can tell Hiccup is eager to ask what's inside the pack again, but he decides to keep that question to himself.

I led him unhurriedly up the same trail that Tooth and I had ventured through the first time we went into these woods together. Neither of us are wearing the proper shoe wear, Hiccup in his old, torn up sneakers and me in a pair of flimsy flip flops. I nearly stub my toes against a huge boulder when he tries to surprise attack me from behind, attempting to get a hold of my backpack to see what's inside it, which leads to a frantic chase. He's never able to catch me though, since his prosthetic gives him some trouble, to which he curses me for. I go back and help him up the rest of the way after he swears on his mom's grave that he won't try to get into my backpack again.

We eventually come to the opening overlooking Berk. Judging by his awed expression, I don't think Hiccup's even been up here before.

"Dude, this is so cool," I hear him breathe, taking a seat on a nearby rock. As I slip off my backpack and unzip it on the ground, he inspects his leg, making sure all the joints are still intact. "How'd you find it? I mean, I've lived here my entire life and never knew this place existed."

"Tooth showed it to me," I tell him. I reach into the backpack and pull out two small hand shovels, both loaned to me by my mother. Alongside them, I pull out a pearl white pair of and worn ice skates, the single silver blades on each glistening a bit in the beaming sun.

Hiccup looks up from his leg and scrunches up his freckled face when he sees me holding these seemingly strange objects. "Is that the stuff that as in your backpack?"

"Yep."

"Really? Man, all that energy earlier wasted for nothing. I'm disappointed."

"Haha… yeah." I look nervously down at the skates. "Listen… this is going to be a little… well, it may be a little strange."

Hiccup smirks. "But that's not new for you, is it?"

That manages to get a laugh out of me, which I'm thankful for, since I didn't like the hollow feeling that had begun to form in my chest by looking at the skates. "Well, no, I guess not," I confess, not bothering to fight back a smile. "But, uh… I just… I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want you to hear me out before, you know… calling me out for being weird."

The smirk on Hiccup's face disappears then, probably because he can hear and see the seriousness in my voice and eyes. "Yeah, of course," he tells me. "What's up?"

I walk over and take a seat beside him on the boulder, resting the shovels and skates in my lap. That entire morning I had been trying to plan out how I was going to explain this all to him in my head, but now that we're here, I can't seem to quite remember where I decided I would start.

I guess I could start with the skates.

"These skates were Emma's," I tell him, forcing myself to say her name in a steady voice. "Apparently we used to go ice skating a lot during the winters back home. Like, our old home. My dad told me I was the one that taught her and that we were both pretty good at it." I stop and eye the skates again, both starting to feel heavy somehow. I can feel Hiccup look briefly down at them too, like he's taking in their new meaning, then back up at me. I continue. "They're the only things they kept of hers. Everything else was donated or sold because they didn't… they didn't want to have to look at it and remember.

"They kept these skates though. I don't know why, but they did. They buried them in one of the boxes of unpacked stuff in the spare room next to mine, and they decided to give them to me just a couple of weeks ago. I don't know what they expect me to do with them, seeing as they're too tiny for me, but, uh… I don't know. I put them on my shelf at first - you know, as something to remember her by - but the thing is… I don't think… I don't think I really want to remember her right now. Like, I know that sounds awful, but… it's just… just…"

"It's too soon," Hiccup finishes for me when I can't.

I nod. "Yeah. The wound is still somewhat fresh, and just looking at these and knowing that they were hers and that she isn't here anymore… it hurts.

"And I guess that's where the shovels come in. I read somewhere that, when someone dies, they usually bury the body. And… geez, this sounds so stupid, but I was thinking… well… I wasn't able to go to her funeral, since I was still in that coma and everything so… you know… I was thinking-"

"You wanna bury the skates?"

I nod, not being able to tear my eyes from the white, bladed shoes. The threat of tears becomes apparent on the rims of my eyes, but I fight it. Instead I laugh, looking up at Hiccup and saying, "Yeah. Is that weird?"

He pauses, looks up and studies me for a moment with those green-yellow eyes, then says, "No, not really. I mean, it makes sense. You want closure since you weren't able to get it at her funeral, and this is your way of getting it. Now, people don't typically bury stuff of the deceased when they don't want it anymore, but even with that being said, I don't think it's that weird. Different, but not weird."

Looking at him, I can't help but smile at his encouraging words, trying to get my thanks through to him with my eyes.

He smiles back, telling me he understands, then reaches out for one of the shovels. "Well, of all places to bury them, you sure did pick the perfect spot. I mean, just look at this view. I wouldn't half mind being buried here myself, to be honest."

We decide on a place to bury the skates - close to the edge, but not too close, beside the weird head-shaped rock - and then start digging away at the earth. Working side by side in silence, we manage to create a small hole big enough to rest both skates on top of each other, a pile of uplifted dirt gathered neatly beside the sight. As I gather said skates from the rock I left them on, Hiccup goes off towards a nearby shrub and starts picking up what looks like tiny, stray twigs from around it. By the time I arrive back with the skates in hand, he's managed to arrange the collection of twigs to spell out EMMA right above the open pocket in the ground.

I had been fighting back tears this entire time - mostly for Hiccup's sake - but it's at seeing her name that I finally let myself break. The sob comes out before I can even register it and I can hear the skate's blades clink together in my shaking hands.

Without a word, Hiccup gets up from his crotched position beside the hole and comes towards me. I feel his firm hand touch my shoulder, the grip of his fingers telling me that he's here.

I reach up and wipe my eyes with my arm, trying to sniff as quietly as possible. "I'm sorry," I tell him, my voice cracking with the words. "I… I just…"

"No, no, no, Jack, it's okay," he assures me, the touch of his hand still present on my shoulder. "This is what people do at funerals. They cry. It's okay to cry."

I nod my head because I know any type of verbal response will come out completely unable to be understood by human. He takes the skates from my tremble hands when he sees I can't get myself to move, and gently does the honors of laying them in the hole, one neatly placed on the other.

He stands again and looks towards me. "You have anything you want to say?"

I sniff. "Huh?"

"At funerals, before they bury the body, sometimes people go up and, like, talk about the person. Or to the person. Depends on the type of ceremony, I guess."

Looking down at the skates, I decide to say the first thing that comes to mind.

"I wish you could be here, Emma. And… and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what happened to you, even if… even if it wasn't my fault."

I notice Hiccup smile out of the corner of my eye.

"I miss you and love you and I hope, wherever you are, that you're happy and safe and… I just want you to be safe."

The tears are threatening to attack the rims of my eyes again, so I stop while I'm ahead. Hiccup seems to understand I'm done with my small eulogy, so he passes me a shovel as I wipe my eyes again. We both get onto our knees and fill in the hole, the dirt making the skates disappear with each shovel full until it's eventually gone from sight.

"You feel any better?" Hiccup asks me as I stash the dirty shovels back into my backpack once we're done.

I can't really tell what I'm feeling; it's an odd mixture of sadness, but also relief - like a weight's been released, but not all of it, so it's still there, heavy and aching.

"A little," I tell him. "Is there anything you want to bury too? You know. Of your mom's?"

The question seems to catch him by surprise. He looks over at the small mound of dirt with the twigs laid out above it, his eyes seeming to be studying the structure, deep in thought.

"Nah," he finally says, shaking his head and turning away from the grave. "I've done enough burying with her. I think it's time I started digging things up, y'know?"

I nod, though I don't completely understand. That's alright though. Maybe one day I will.

We stick around for a little while longer, looking out over Berk and admiring the mountains and the ocean. The time is almost 1:30 when Hiccup tells me we should probably start heading back down, especially if we still plan on having the slip'n'slide party that I promised the kids.

The walk back to our bikes is gracious. With every step I take farther away from Emma's "grave", the less heavy my heart seems to feel. Hiccup doesn't bring her up as we make our trek down the hill, which I'm grateful for. In exchange, I don't bring up his mom, though I get the feeling he's made a lot of progress with moving on from her death lately, so it probably wouldn't matter. Instead, he asks me about my new psychologist and how my weekly sessions with her are going. I tell him things are going fine and that we now know that the cause behind me seeing Emma and having strange nightmares is actually posttraumatic stress caused by the accident. Though "Emma" doesn't appear to me anymore - and hasn't since I found out the truth - the nightmares still occur, though not as much. Through a series of different types of therapies and medication though, I'm expected to stop seeing things and start feeling better before I get too far into the school year.

"Speaking of which," Hiccup says as we reach the trailhead, the sun momentarily blinding us as we step out from under the canopied trees. "How you feelin' about the whole school thing? I know you were excited about it earlier in the summer, but now that we start next week, you havin' any second thoughts?"

"Not second thoughts," I tell him genuinely. "I guess I'm just a little nervous. It's such a foreign concept to me, school. Honestly, I don't really know where to begin."

"Well, have you bought school supplies yet?"

"Yeah, I went shopping with my mom the other day. I don't really know what to do with any of it though."

"Dude, I can come over and help if you want," Hiccup suggests as we mount our bikes. "There's really nothing to it. Just gotta label your binders and make sure you have enough pencils. You know, stuff like that. Have you walked your schedule yet?"

We both kick off and start pedaling slowly back towards the Bennett's and my house. "Have I what?"

"Walked your schedule. Your class schedule."

I shake my head. "That's something you're supposed to do?"

"Well, no, not really," he admits. "It helps a lot with findin' classes the first day though. And the fact that you've never stepped foot in the high school before gives you even more of a reason to go do it."

"Are you going to walk your schedule?" As we pass by my house, I can hear the distant laughter of what sounds like Baby Tooth and Jamie, the colorful, plastic surface of the slip'n'slide able to be seen from where we're gliding side by side.

"Yeah. Fish and I were gonna do it tomorrow afternoon. You wanna join us? We can show you all the shortcuts and stuff."

"Shortcuts?"

"Yeah, like, easier and quicker ways to get around."

"Oh, shortcuts. But are those considered cheating?"

Hiccup laughs. "Not in this context, no. Though, if you can cheat the school system, I say go for it."

"I get the feeling you don't really like school."

"Trust me, dude. Once you get there, you'll understand where I'm coming from."

We eventually arrive back at the Bennett's and are greeted by Baby Tooth and Sophie, both sporting their swimsuits and sopping wet. I cave and take Sophie's embrace as she wraps her wet arms around my legs, pretending to fall down at her grasp and calling out to Tooth, who's laughing from the front porch, to avenge me. Hiccup has different plans and bolts towards to front door to find sanctuary inside, Baby Tooth trailing after him as fast as her little legs will let her. Jamie and Astrid, who had both been hiding in the bushes, team up and take Hiccup down before he can reach the front porch, Astrid even going as far as to drench him with the hose she has wielded behind her.

When the lot of them are done harassing us, we're both soaked head to toe, our clothes sticking to our bodies and dripping with enough water to probably fill a pool.

"It's weird," Hiccup goes, both of us sitting on the steps of the porch, our dripping shirts hanging from the porch railing to dry. "I really thought this summer was gonna suck, y'know? But I guess not. This summer was actually pretty fun." He punches me playfully in the shoulder, giving me a smirk. "I guess I have you to thank for that, ya big dork."

I laugh. "Yeah. It wasn't that bad, was it?"