We had been walking for what seemed to be thousands of miles, but in reality wasn't anything near that. My older brother, James, was sauntering a bit behind me and my mom was leading the way ahead of us as we walked through the New York City streets of 1900.

"Look! I think Crutchy just lapped us!" I exclaimed to James.

He ignored me, and didn't change his pace, so I started to recall the words of a song we had heard earlier that day. Our neighbor, Miss. Mary, liked to sing.

I eventually got the tune and rhythm down, and started to sing aloud. James when to hit me, but I swatted his hand away.

"Georgie, you're voice makes me want to get hit by a carriage." He said, pretending to fall into the road.

I only sang louder, and by them my mother too began to sing. James shook his head in that disgusted James way. He hated to be outnumbered. That was what bugged him most about our parents' divorce; that he was usually the only guy around.

We continued to walk through the unfamiliar streets slowly, and though I bugged my only sibling about it, I really didn't mind at all. I loved seeing the sights; this was my favorite part of the year. Everything led up to this moment; was compared to it in some way or another.

It was, in a way, coming home after you've been gone a very, very long time. It held a million promises of summer and just what might be.

We got closer and closer, and the same lovely flutter returned to my chest, and I knew we were almost there.

James awakened me from my thoughts with an elbow to a gut, "Thinking about Spot?" he prodded.

And for once, the answer really was "No".

My mother, the eavesdropper she was slowed her pace and joined in. "George, do you like Spot? From the looks of last summer I'd thought there was something between you and Jeremiah?"

James stopped. "WHAT? You and Jeremiah? What happened with you and Jeremiah?" He sputtered.

"Nothing." I told them both, though I could feel the blush creep up on my cheeks. Not for Jeremiah though, for Spot. "Me and Jeremiah are JUST friends. Just because we're friends, doesn't mean there's anything going on. Please never bring that up again."

My mother spoke with finality when she said "Done." Something about it made not even James want to press further.

Spot and Jeremiah were Sophie's boys. Sophie was my mom's best friend; attached at the hip since they were nine. They were blood sisters; they'd tell you, and the identical squiggly scars under their wrist to prove it.

Sophie told me that when I was born, I was destined for one of her boys. Fate was what she called it. Fate is sick sometimes though, because if it wasn't, I wouldn't have to hold onto forever fading memories of that amazing, strong woman.

Most of the time, as soon as something got boring, my mind would wander straight to that summer city house. With Spot and Jere. Just counting the days until summer, the only time of the year that mattered. My life was, what you could say, measured in summers. Like as if I didn't start really living until June.

Spot was the older of the boys, by a year and a half. He was dark. Well, not dark, but mysterious. His hair, a dirty blonde, was shaggy and perfect. His eyes, piercing blue that you could feel on you. He was cocky, and had a smirky mouth. That mouth, with that smirk, was amazing. The rare smile would catch you off guard, leaving you weakened. But that smirky mouth made you want to kiss it. Kiss away all the smirkiness. Or at least, control it for a while. Make it yours. That's what I wanted in Spot. To make him mine.

Jeremiah though—he was my friend. He had that way about him that he didn't care about what you thought of him. Everyone loved him like he was their own little brother. The differences in him and Spot were insane. Jere was the kind of boy who still hugged his mom, and didn't care about hat hair when he took off his newsie cap.

He only spent some of his time at the Lodgin' House, unlike Spot, who lived there 24/7, only to be forced along every summer here. He usually went back and fourth all summer anyways though. He was cold, and a ladies man. He was arrogant. But he hadn't really always been that way. I assume. I can't remember that far back.

If Jeremiah and Spot had been regular boys, I'd bet Jeremiah would have been more popular. All the girls would have loved him more. He had blonde, blonde hair and his mother's grass green eyes and a soft face that was always laughing.

But they weren't regular boys. They were newsies. And Spot was leader. I tried to imagine that if Spot had been a normal boy, he would have been different. He would have actually noticed a girl like me.

We finally came to the house. Spot and Jeremiah were on the front steps and watched as we approached. Jere trotted down the steps and shook with James and engulfed me in a bear hug.

Spot was seventeen now. He had just had a birthday. He was only slightly taller than last summer. Jeremiah on the other hand, had grown quite a lot and had almost caught up to his brother. His hair shown a blonde that only summer sun could make, and he flipped his out of his eyes often. His hair used to be curly, and would turn almost white this time of year when he was little. Oh, how he hated those curls.

Spot had once convinced him that eating the crusts of the bread made your hair curly, so Jeremiah went around eating everything but crusts, which Spot was then free to polish off.

My mother stopped and placed her hand awkwardly on Spot's shoulder, not so much of a contact person, and asked how their trip here had been. Since they've been taking it alone for the past five years, walking straight from the Lodging House here.

"No trouble at all. If der was, you know I'd have it handled." Spot answered with a smirk and an arrogant nod towards my mom who was laughing, knowing Spot hadn't changed. My mother headed inside, still lit up.

I stood back from Sophie's boys and it was then when they really noticed me. Really noticed me. Spot gave me that once over that newsies and other boys would give me at the vendors, a subtle sign they were noticing me. He had never looked at me like that before, and my heart sped up. He then turned and starting chatting with James.

Of course. Spot got all the attention a boy could want from ladies. I was just Georgie. His close friend's little annoing sister.

Jeremiah, on the other hand, did a double take. It was like he hadn't recognized me at all. I hadn't changed that much had I? My hair was longer, yes, and I had finally filled out, being more of a stick than a chub.

Jeremiah shook his head, finally realizing it was me, Georgia Brown, or Georgie to most people. Spot then came over, giving me a pat on the shoulder and touching my one cheek and rubbing it lightly with his thumb, his 'sparkle of trouble' clearly visible in his eyes. He added "I think you got some new ones."

Spot knew I was self-conscious about my freckles, but never let me forget I had them. A constant reminder I very closely resembled the annoying little sister he never wanted.

But that's how him and Jeremiah would both look at me at times. But this summer; this summer was different. They didn't see me as someone's little sister anymore, I was a real girl.

My heart was beating so loud I could hear it; letting me know the obvious; that this was going to be our summer.