Dancing Lessons
"'ey, Dutchy!" Racetrack waved a hand in his friend's face. "Anyone in?"
"Huh?" Dutchy blinked.
"'Y lookin' t' starve? Y' ain't said nothing for 'bout ten minutes." Racetrack frowned. "Y' feel all right?"
Dutchy nodded, then sighed.
"Look, I've sold almost all my papes," Racetrack said, and looking at Dutchy's alarmingly larger stack. "Let's stop for lunch," he suggested.
Dutchy nodded again.
"Cat gotcher tongue?"
"No."
Racetrack was deep in thought all the way to Tibby's. After they'd ordered, he had it. "So who's the goil?"
"What makes y' think there is one?" the blond newsie asked, pushing his glasses slightly.
Racetrack sighed. "What else makes a complete fool of a newsie?"
"Her name's Helen," Dutchy said at last. "She don't even know I exist."
"How'dya know that?"
"We ain't spoke."
"That'd do it," Racetrack tipped back his chair. "So where'dya see her?" The story came out quickly, Dutchy seemed to be relieved to have someone to tell it to. He'd seen Helen outside one of the factories and sold a pape to a friend of hers. He'd been instantly smitten and knew that no one else could be like her. Even though they hadn't spoken yet. Even though she hadn't even noticed him. There was going to be a dance two weeks from now that most of the girls would be going to, and Helen would be there. It would be an ideal time to meet her, but…
"I can't dance."
"'Course you can!" Racetrack insisted. "We dance all t' time."
"But…" Dutchy gulped. "Not wiv goils…"
"Dey don't bite. An' what makes you so sure she likes t' dance?"
"She was dancin' on her break. By herself like, but y'know, waltzing?"
Racetrack nodded. "So ya gotta learn. Medda'd teach y'."
"Can't afford it. Say, Race, you know how t' dance, don't you?"
"Oh no, I'm not teachin' y' dancin'!" Racetrack said. Visions of sore and possibly broken toes sprang to mind.
"Please, Race?"
Unless there was some way… Wait, he had it. "It'll cost y'."
"How much?" Dutchy asked, reaching for the leather pouch he wore around his neck.
He's really desperate! "Um…three cents a lesson."
"Done."
Race almost fell off his chair. Shoulda said five!
"When do we start?" Dutchy asked.
"After we finish the evenin' papes?" Racetrack suggested, feeling doomed for some reason.
"All right."
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