If you've never seen Little Manhattan, it's about a young boy named Gabe who falls Head over heels for a girl, both of them being at age 11. So, I decided to get into the girl's head, because I had so much fun experiencing Gabe's side of the story, and thought It would be excellent to hear Rosemary's side.

I don't own the movie, K?

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I was watching the summer birds fly around outside my window when I made my decision. My parents said I could invite anyone, right? Well, right now, Gabe seemed like the obvious choice. He and I had been spending a ton of time together recently, and I was really coming to like him. I was pretty sure he liked me too.

I picked up the phone, and then put it down again. Then I picked it up, again.

When it comes to calling Gabe, things get a little more difficult. It was Sunday night, and his family might be in the middle of dinner. Well, on the other hand, maybe not.

I picked up the phone and dialed his number. 824-6307. I wonder if he'd known that I memorized it. The phone rang three times.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Burton? Hi, is Gabe there, this is Rosemary."

"Yeah, he's right here"

In a flash, I heard his voice. "I've got it!"

I smiled into the phone, "I said I was gonna call."

I could hear him breathing "Did you? I don't even remember."

Okay, that was either a bad sign, or he was trying to be "smooth". I decided to get to the point.

"So what are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, it's summer so it's not like it's a school night or anything."

"I'm free, Totally!"

Okay, the boy sounded eager. Wow.

"Cuz my parents got these special tickets to this concert with this guy who's supposed to be like the greatest singer in New York or something."



I paused.

"Wanna go?"

"Uh… Me-me and your parents?"

Gosh, the kid could sometime s be a little slow. "And me too, my mom said I could invite anyone I want."

"Sounds awesome." He breathed into the phone.

"Great." I said. It was great. He could come.

I hung up and hugged the phone. Then, I put it down, and felt like a dork for hugging it in the first place.

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The next night came so fast, And I dressed quickly, and put on some nice clothes: A blue dress, and a sweater to cover my shoulders. I wondered if he was dressing nicely, too. I couldn't stop thinking of him, I told myself that it was just a phase and that when I went to camp I would forget him… and this feeling he gave me.

My mother called me and I rushed into the living room. My parents were digging through stuff, trying to find phones and cards and tickets, and they were just about ready to leave.

"So, why invite Gabe?"

"Um, I dunno."

She gave me a small smile and just kept staring, hoping I'd cave. I've always found it funny how parents feel the need to embarrass you, but it was clear that my mom wasn't going to let me go without a real answer.

I tried again.

"He's nice mom, and we've been hanging out a lot. I think it'd be fun to have him here."

She looked satisfied.

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We drove up to his house, and I saw him standing outside. He looked great, and he'd really dressed up. His hair was even gelled. My father got out of the car and took the front seat, and he sat beside me.

I could feel him staring, he made it obvious. He made everything outright obvious, and I had no doubt in my mind he liked me. But did I like him? I was trying really hard not to. Two weeks isn't enough time to form a proper romance. And plus, after camp, it was private school, and after private school, well, he'll have probably found someone else, anyway.

We reached the restaurant-concert thing. He sat beside me, across from our parents. We ordered Shirley temples and my father made a toast. Then the music started.

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I wasn't listening to the lyrics, just to the tune, to the sound of his voice. It sent vivid pictures through my head, pictures of the last few days with Gabe. I felt him shuffle beside me. My mother and father were both staring off into the eyes of the singer. I, however, zoned out. I was thinking, thinking about camp, and how much I seemed to be dreading it lately, because it would end my time with him. Then I felt it. His had brushed the top of mine, and I turned my hand over so he could take it. My mouth opened slightly, I could feel it. But it made me smile.

We stayed there for a second, and I realized I hadn't looked at him. So, I did. He had a ridiculous smile painted across his face. I grinned. After a few minutes, I was shocked at how bizarrely sweaty our hands got, and felt the need to let go. So I let my hand come apart from his, and I wiped it on my dress. Then I realized the meaning behind what I'd done. He reached out to hold my hand, and now he would be scared, offended, sad or maybe nervous about the fact that I'd let go of it. Determined not to let my parents see that I was looking at him, I reached over and grabbed his hand, without moving my face. His hand seemed relived, I thought. We held hands for a while longer.

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We got out of the taxi, and I knew it was time for goodbyes. Why was it, that when it came to this boy, I could never outright leave him, not without a second glance, or a smile, or a wink? My parents seemed to get the drift, they walked away somewhere else, and Gabe and I were left alone.

I really didn't want to leave him, I wanted him to come to my house and stay with me, or something. I wanted to be with him, just talking, laughing, and having fun. I began to make small talk, trying to keep him around, but the more I talked, the more I could see his mind racing. He didn't seem to be thinking about what we were talking about, and right as I was in the middle of saying something, he kissed me.

Short, sweet, and on the lips.

Then it was my turn to think. What was that? Does that mean…? Could he love me? Why did he do that? Where did he get the courage? Did I like it? Should I maybe… say something?

But I couldn't bring myself to say something. He'd stolen my first kiss. I looked at his lips then his eyes, over and over and over. Then, I touched my own lips. Wow.

It was only then when I realized that I'd left him hanging. He'd made everything more difficult by doing this, and I felt the need to go home and think.

He was brushing his own lips.

"I…" I said. He looked up at me. His eyes were hopeful.

"I should go…"

"Yeah." He said, looking down. Gosh, did I just break someone's heart?

I started to walk away when I heard a soft "Goodnight."

I felt as if I couldn't speak, as if he'd stolen my breath. I spoke very softly. "Goodnight."



I gave him one last look before walking across the empty street towards my parents.

Maybe I'd done that all wrong. I liked the kiss, but, I hadn't wanted him to kiss me. He liked me, a lot, I could tell, but... was he coming on too strong? Or was I just not responding strong enough. I didn't know, I couldn't know. What experience did I have with this anyway? I was eleven. I shouldn't have to go through this yet. I was confused.

Then it came to me, the fact that I liked him, the fact that my stomach tingled when I wrapped my arms around his torso, or that I'd thought about lying on his shoulder at the dinner table, as the singer preformed his last song. I knew now. If only I'd stayed longer.

I reached my parents as they walked toward our home. My mother wrapped her arm around my shoulder as she walked. She began to tell me what we were doing tomorrow, or the next day, or something like that, but I paid no attention. When she told me that I seemed to have my mind elsewhere—at that moment, it was Gabe—I looked up at her, and I said "Give me a couple minutes to recover."

"Recover from what?"As if she didn't know. I gave her an intense glare.

"Oh," she paused, "Hun, some boys don't know when to kiss a girl, it's alright, the boy will come to his senses."

I raised an eyebrow. "But he did kiss me." I said below my breath. Neither she nor my father ever heard, and I planned to keep it that way.

I spent the night wondering what he was wondering about. He must have been scared, or nervous, or sorry, or something. He never got a reaction from me, after all, so he could take it either way, right?

Wait a second; he did get a reaction from me. I left.

I mentally slapped myself. Stupid, stupid Rosemary.

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This is an excellent movie, and I encourage you all to go to Blockbuster and rent it.

Boy, am I sucker for Puppy love.

REVIEW!

-Ashy