A/N: Okay so it's been a while since my last newsie story. I just wasn't getting any ideas. Everything I thought of was too boring and un-original. But finally I have something not-so-terrible so I hope you enjoy. PS I don't own Newsies. Damn.

I stood underneath the small overhang from the doorway to the Manhattan Newsboy Lodging House. The rain came down in frozen sheets it seemed. Despite my best efforts I was shaking with fear and cold. What if he didn't remember me? It had been a while. Eight years to be exact. Well I would never know if I didn't go inside.

As I opened the door a crack of thunder boomed from the sky. Even though it was only five o'clock it was already pitch black out, the heavy rain clouds blocking out the sun. I tentatively put one foot inside and poked my head around the corner. I saw an elderly man sitting behind a large worn out desk reading today's newspaper. I could hear shouts and banging from a room somewhere upstairs. I took one final deep breath and pulled myself and my lone bag inside.

The man looked up from his paper, somewhat surprised at my standing in the doorway, dripping wet. I could tell this place didn't get a lot of girls sniffing around for a place to stay. My skirts, once white and clean, where spattered with mud and my golden brown curls hung limply from under my hat. I waked toward the desk and set my bag down at my feet.

"Hello, how much for a night?" I asked nervously. I could feel my face flush red.

"Five cents a night." The man replied, still looking surprised. "You know, we don't usually get girls 'round here." He continued, stating my thoughts. "What is your name sweetheart?"

I blushed furiously and tried to summon up my voice. "Uhh…its…um, Cassandra. Well, Cassie actually." I stammered out.

"Well, Cassie, good to have you. I'll go tell the boys we have a new guest."

"No!" I accidentally shouted at him. I took a breath and calmed myself down. "Um, that's okay. I'll go introduce myself."

"Well alright, but at least let me take your bag up to the girl's room. We haven't had much use for it so it's in a rough state."

I was grateful for his kindness and his understanding. It was the most kindness I'd seen in a while. I watched him pick up my bag and start towards the stairs.

"If you need anything just holler. You can call me Kloppman." He said and trudged up the creaky stairs and down a narrow hallway to the door on the furthest end of the hall. I waited until he'd gone through the door, then I untied the ribbon under my chin and took my hat off.

I walked to the stairs and started up them. I made my way to the door closest to the stairs, the only other room on the floor besides the one Kloppman had gone through. I knocked once with a trembling hand and backed up. I heard someone shout inside to another to go open the door.

About 30 seconds later the door swung open and a boy about my age, 15, stood there with a bored expression on. He had brown hair and suspenders over a pink shirt. He also wore a brown newsboys cap. He stared at me a moment and then called to one of his friends inside, whose name I recognized.

"It's for you Cowboy." He called. His face broke into a warm smile and he laughed once before he backed away from the door.

At the mention of his name my heart stopped. I couldn't believe he still went by that nickname I'd given him years ago. Cowboy. Hah! I wondered if they even knew his real name. He'd never liked it and it had been a joke at first but soon he would only answer to Cowboy.

I cursed my over-active heart silently, sure that he and all the rest of the boys in the room could hear it. I didn't even realize I was staring at him until he waved a hand in front of my face.

"Hello, are you okay?" he asked and I snapped myself out of my trance. He laughed once and it made me wonder what emotion was on my face. He turned back to the boy who'd opened the door and said "Nope, I've never seen her in my life."

I knew it was now or never. I plucked up any courage I had in me and yelled to him, "Wait." I regretted saying anything because it meant I'd be giving a speech in front of all these strange boys, who all looked like they could've beaten me up.

Cowboy whipped around to look at me, the laughter in his eyes bringing me back eight years in the past. Again, I didn't realize I was staring until he said something. "What?"

"You don't remember me, do you?" I asked.