"Stop dawdling would you?"
"And what, may I ask, are you in such a hurry for?"
My impatient companion dragged me down the street. "Come on, Bel. We're going to miss it."
"Gabriel Thatcher, what could you possibly want to see this early in the morning?" I yawned, further proving my point.
"That."
I scanned the square, my attention snagged by a group of boys standing around the front of a huge iron gate. To me, the scene wasn't all that impressive, but when I glanced over at Gabe, he was positively glowing. Something about those newsies left a goofy grin on his face. In the fourteen years that I had known him, I don't think that I had ever seen him so happy.
Soon, the crowd began to disperse as the newsies headed off to sell their papers. Gabe and I likewise started down the street, headed for no where in particular.
"I will be one of them someday," he said whimsically.
The thought of Gabe as a newsie nearly set me into a fit of giggles, but I contained myself. Instead, logic kicked in. "What will your father say?"
"I don't know," he replied simply.
We spent the rest of the afternoon bumming around Manhattan, enjoying one of the last days of the summer. When supper time finally arrived, we reluctantly started home, passing slowly through Central Park.
"Race you home," I said with a devilish grin.
He raised his eyebrows at me. "Race? But you're a girl!"
"And so what if I am? I can still soak you."
"We'll see about that!" He took off down the path, leaving me in the dust.
I finally caught up with him as we rounded the last corner before home. I nearly ran into him when he stopped abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk. His eyes were glued on the dark smoke that was billowing from the windows of the Thatcher's home.
My mother approached us with tears in her eyes.
"No," Gabe kept repeating, backing around the corner.
I darted after him, finally catching up a few blocks down Broadway. "Gabe, wait."
"I can't. I have to get away." I could see the tears beginning to well up in his eyes.
I pulled him into a tight hug. "You can't leave. I won't let you."
He squeezed me tighter. "I love you, Bel."
Before I could react, he took off into the bustle of the New York streets, leaving me alone on the sidewalk, tears rolling down my cheeks.
Two days later, Gabriel still hadn't returned and my parents decided that it would be in my best interest to complete my schooling at a boarding school in London.
"And what, may I ask, are you in such a hurry for?"
My impatient companion dragged me down the street. "Come on, Bel. We're going to miss it."
"Gabriel Thatcher, what could you possibly want to see this early in the morning?" I yawned, further proving my point.
"That."
I scanned the square, my attention snagged by a group of boys standing around the front of a huge iron gate. To me, the scene wasn't all that impressive, but when I glanced over at Gabe, he was positively glowing. Something about those newsies left a goofy grin on his face. In the fourteen years that I had known him, I don't think that I had ever seen him so happy.
Soon, the crowd began to disperse as the newsies headed off to sell their papers. Gabe and I likewise started down the street, headed for no where in particular.
"I will be one of them someday," he said whimsically.
The thought of Gabe as a newsie nearly set me into a fit of giggles, but I contained myself. Instead, logic kicked in. "What will your father say?"
"I don't know," he replied simply.
We spent the rest of the afternoon bumming around Manhattan, enjoying one of the last days of the summer. When supper time finally arrived, we reluctantly started home, passing slowly through Central Park.
"Race you home," I said with a devilish grin.
He raised his eyebrows at me. "Race? But you're a girl!"
"And so what if I am? I can still soak you."
"We'll see about that!" He took off down the path, leaving me in the dust.
I finally caught up with him as we rounded the last corner before home. I nearly ran into him when he stopped abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk. His eyes were glued on the dark smoke that was billowing from the windows of the Thatcher's home.
My mother approached us with tears in her eyes.
"No," Gabe kept repeating, backing around the corner.
I darted after him, finally catching up a few blocks down Broadway. "Gabe, wait."
"I can't. I have to get away." I could see the tears beginning to well up in his eyes.
I pulled him into a tight hug. "You can't leave. I won't let you."
He squeezed me tighter. "I love you, Bel."
Before I could react, he took off into the bustle of the New York streets, leaving me alone on the sidewalk, tears rolling down my cheeks.
Two days later, Gabriel still hadn't returned and my parents decided that it would be in my best interest to complete my schooling at a boarding school in London.