Bridge to Terabithia

by Katherine Paterson

“What if”—Leslie’s voice faltered; then she shook her head and cleared her throat so the words came out stronger—“what if you don’t have a television set?” Lord, Leslie. Don’t say that. You can always watch on mine.

Stop thats cute

Often the joke was on Mrs. Myers. Leslie was one of those people who sat quietly at her desk, never whispering or daydreaming or chewing gum, doing beautiful schoolwork, and yet her brain was so full of mischief that if the teacher could have once seen through that mask of perfection, she would have thrown her out in horror. Jess could hardly keep a straight face in class just trying to imagine what might be going on behind that angelic look of Leslie’s.

Leslie was more than his friend. She was his other, more exciting self—his way to Terabithia and all the worlds beyond.

“Did I ever tell you the story of Hamlet?” He rolled over on his back. “Not yet,” he said happily. Lord, he loved Leslie’s stories. Someday, when he was good enough, he would ask her to write them in a book and let him do all the pictures.

was not that she would expect something expensive; it was that he needed to give her something as much as he needed to eat when he was hungry.

Brenda’s pouting voice broke in, “Your girl friend’s dead, and Momma thought you was dead, too.”

That's such a messed up way to say that

Cremated. Something clicked inside Jess’s head. That meant Leslie was gone. Turned to ashes. He would never see her again. Not even dead. Never. How could they dare? Leslie belonged to him. More to him than anyone in the world. No one had even asked him. No one had even told him. And now he was never going to see her again, and all they could do was cry. Not for Leslie. They weren’t crying for Leslie. They were crying for themselves. Just themselves. If they’d cared at all for Leslie, they would have never brought her to this rotten place. He had to hold tightly to his hands for fear he might sock Bill in the face.

She had made him leave his old self behind and come into her world, and then before he was really at home in it but too late to go back, she had left him stranded there—like an astronaut wandering about on the moon. Alone.