Addiction.

I was anxious, my first day on the job and I really hoped I wouldn't get caught. I adjusted my hat making sure every hair was in place. I took a deep breath. Today, I had decided was my day. Shoving my cold hands into my pockets I headed down towards paper row. The two twenty-five cent pieces I had in my pocket were cold. I held them tightly in my left hand as I walked. By the time I had made it to the distribution center for "The World" my face felt completely frozen. I hate winter in New York. The gate in front of the center was still closed, and down the street I could see the cart carrying the day's news. It wouldn't be long until the start of the next chapter of my life.

Boys were everywhere surrounding the gate, trying to be the first to get their papers. I could hear them talking in their thick city accents. That was something I was defiantly going to have to get used to. One boy in particular stood out to me. He was tall and had the aura of a leader. He was perched up on the gate, making him seem even taller than he was. He had a red scarf tied around his neck, and a cowboy hat hanging off his back. I couldn't tell why but for some reason he seemed to silently demand respect, and all the boys gave it to him.

The loud ringing of the distribution bell brought me out of my distracted state and reminded me why I was here. I watched as the cart pulled into the gate followed by a sea of newsies. I got swept up in the rush and ended up in the middle of the line. The boy with the cowboy hat was in the front leaning up against the distribution counter talking to the young Italian next to him. The wooden gate behind the counter rose up and the boy turned around. I watched as he slapped his coins on the counter, he said something to the distributor and then he got his papers and walked away. I watched as the next boy went through the same motions. I studied each of the newsies ahead of me as they placed down their coins and took their paper. I wanted to look like I fit in.

Finally it was my turn at the counter; I slapped one of my coins down and said "Fifty papes." I tried to mimic the city accent, but I didn't quite get it, my British accent was still too strong. The distributor gave me a funny look then handed over the papers. I let out a sigh of relief when I had the papers in my hand. I was relieved that I made it through the process unscathed. I held tightly to my papers as I walked down the stairs. I had almost made it to the gate before a voice called out to me.

"HEY! Hey you, the one that bought fifty papes, hold on."

I didn't know what to do. Was he even referring to me? What did he want? Did he figure out my disguise that easily?

"Hey, wait a second will ya?"

I finally stopped walking, but I was too scared to turn around. I heard his rushed footsteps come towards me. It only took him four steps to cover the distance between us. He clapped his hand on my shoulder and swung around me to face me. It was the boy with the cowboy hat.

"Jack." He said holding his hand out to me. I took it.

"James." I said using my older brother's name. My voice had been shaking, I hoped he didn't notice.

"Where ya selling at?" He asked me.

Relief washed over me, this wasn't the question I had been expecting. "I haven't really thought about it yet." And honestly I hadn't, I had been more worried about getting a hold of the actual papers than I was about selling them.

"Well let me give ya a warning. The track aint no good, the regulars already have a newsie" He nodded his head towards the Italian. "An' try not to get to close to Wall Street, the boys get vicious over there, its no place for a first-timer."

He had me pegged. I didn't quite realize I was that obvious.

"Well Thank you for the tip." I said. I nodded my head towards him then I left the distribution center.

I had no idea where to go. After a half an hour of wondering around I ended up in Central Park.

I spent the entire day selling the papers to the busy folks walking through the park. It took me most of the day to get them all sold, and luckily I only ever saw another newsie once while I was there. I felt better knowing I wasn't intruding on someone's stomping ground.

Now that all of my papers had been sold, and all my money was secure in the small coin purse I wore around my neck and under my clothes I needed to find a place to stay. I had arrived in the city three days ago, and had been sleeping in a small one-room apartment that was home to an elderly lady and her six grandchildren whom all of which I had met on the boat ride over. I greatly appreciated her hospitality but there was no way I could stay there for much longer, my added presence was defiantly a hassle to the poor old woman, and I promised myself that I would never live off of someone else's work. It was time I lived on my own.

I had heard about a home for newsboys, a lodging house I might be able to find shelter there, but it would be much harder to conceal who I was in a house full of boys. Unfortunately it was my only option.

It took me a while to find the place, it was hidden between a couple of alleys just two blocks past the distribution center. A figure stood in front of the doorway. His lit cigarette seemed to glow, dusk didn't leave much light in New York. When I got closer I saw that it was the boy with the cowboy hat, Jack.

I tried ignoring him as I reached out towards the doorknob .
"I wouldn't go in there if I were you." He said, not taking his eyes off the sidewalk.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Them boys will eat ya alive."

"Excuse me"

"The Newsboys lodging house aint no place for a girl" He finally looked up and his eyes met mine. I could feel my heart pounding at what seemed like a million times a minute. I was speechless. I had no idea how to respond to that, should I deny it? Should I admit to it?

His voice broke my train of thought.

"I know your type. I see it all the time. Girls thinkin' they have a strong enough disguise that no ones gunna notice they aint a boy. Well darling, I got you pinned. Most of the other boys may not have noticed, but one night in there and all the boys are gunna know what you are."

"What if I have no other choice?" I tried to respond confidently, but I know he could tell I was nervous.

"Well lemme help you out. You ever heard of Irving Hall?"

I shook my head and watched as he dropped his cigarette and put it out with the soul of his boot.

"Well Irving Hall is home to the lovely Medda, and it just so happens that she's looking for a waitress. It's a good steady job, and she will give ya a place to sleep. It's a lot more secure than being a newsie."

"If it's so great of a job why don't you take it?"

"Did ya not hear me? I said she was looking for a waitress, meaning a girl, and honey I don't quite fit that qualification."