Hi, all!

So, this is dedicated to my good friend Zoe, whose birthday was yesterday! Happy Birthday Zoe! I'm so happy to call you my friend. And I can now share this fandom with you!

Big thanks to Emador for reading this over. I was so worry about my characterization with this one, and she was able to reassure me that I got it right before I posted. She also informed me that I had left sonicblue99's comments (because sonicblue99 is amazing and makes sure I don't completely embarrass myself) in when I sent it to her, and if she hadn't you all would be stuck reading about how I need to remember my grammar rules.

Can you believe we go into semi finals after this!?

Requirements:

Task: Reporter: A newsie or newsies takes/take on high school.

Prompt:

Classes: English

Word count: 1,714

As always, stay tuned for a mini-history lesson at the end.

Davey dropped into the hard wooden desk, pulling out his book in preparation for English, his last class of the day. His classmates chatted amongst themselves while waiting for the teacher to enter the classroom.

None of them bothered to talk to him. And he didn't attempt to start a conversation either.

Davey had never had friends at school. He'd always been too focused on studying to pass the test to advance to the next year of school. Of course, as his parents reminded him, he could try to find a friend to study with. But then they'd end up mooching off him to advance in the class. Why memorize your lessons when you could copy off Davey?

He'd learned that the hard way.

This led to a long distrust of anyone who attempted to befriend him. You wanted to have more than a polite conversation with David Jacobs? You'd better earn his trust first.

He had always been perfectly content to have Les as his closest friend, despite the age gap.

At the beginning of the school year, Davey had found that the other boys were suddenly interested in getting to know him. He just sat through their attempts at befriending him, waiting for it all to blow over. Sure enough, once the novelty of knowing a kid who'd had his name in the paper -for a strike, no less- had worn off, things had reverted back to the way they had been before.

Davey preferred it that way. School was for learning, not making friends. Besides, he wasn't as anti-social and awkward as he once had been. He had real friends outside of school. Friends with whom he'd taken on the world, both literally and figuratively.

The door swung open as the teacher entered the classroom.

"Good afternoon, class."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Skeeter," the class intoned.

Mr. Skeeter was an older, balding man who, despite his crotchety outer shell, was very kind to his favorites. Luckily for Davey, he was one of said favorites.

"Before we begin class today, I have an announcement," began Mr. Skeeter. "This year we will be having a series of essay contests specifically for your graduating class. These essays are to be written outside of class. You are to turn in a hard copy so your writing may be evaluated and then present your essay to the entire Boys High School student body on selected days. The student who wins the most contests will receive a..."

Mr. Skeeter paused for effect, and the entire class held its breath.

"...three hundred dollar scholarship."

Even without looking around Davey knew his classmates' eyes were as large as his. Three hundred dollars was more than his family, more than most families, lived on in a year. It was enough for a year of college, and they all knew how much a difference even a year of higher education could make.

"The first topic of your essay is 'One event that has changed my life, and how.' You must be able to thoroughly explain how it made a large impact on your life. Details are crucial. You are encouraged to choose one effect this event had and explain why it is so significant."

Davey grabbed a pencil and wrote down the essay prompt in the margin of a sheet of paper. After thinking for a bit, he raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Jacobs."

"Sir, couldn't you argue that every event in one's life is life changing?"

"I suppose you could; however, that is not the goal of this prompt. The school board is looking for these responses to be personal. You had best respond exactly how they wish. While this may be the first essay of the year, I need not remind you how much you could accomplish academically using three hundred dollars."

Davey added 'should be personal' to his margin list. He was already planning ahead. He could write about the strike. Perhaps he could even get Katherine to let him type the essay on her typewriter.

"Now, enough about this essay business. Turn your book page 64 and begin reading. Mr. Jacobs?"

Davey looked up from finding the page.

"If you would see me briefly after class?"

Hoping that Mr. Skeeter didn't want him for a bad reason, Davey simply said, "Yes, sir."

Forty minutes later, Davey found himself standing in front of Mr. Skeeter's large oak desk.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes. Mr. Jacobs, what are you planning on writing your essay about?"

"The newsies' strike, sir. The one I helped lead over the summer."

"Ah, yes. That's what I was afraid of."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"You did a good thing with that strike, David. But tell me truthfully, how much did it change your life? You are back in school now. Your family no longer depends on the money you earn selling papers. Did helping the newsies earn the right to sell papers back affect your life for more than a few weeks?"

"I'm still selling after school and on the weekend, sir."

"I understand that, but is that enough to make the effects personal? The school board wants this first essay to be personal. They won't ask for personal essays often, but when they do, you should do as they ask."

Davey was silent, contemplating. The strike had always been so much bigger than him. Could he even consider it personal?

"You're a very smart young man, David. With this scholarship money you could go to college."

"Yes, sir."

"Technically, I'm not supposed to be helping you with this. But I want to see you succeed. Think about what I said."

"Yes,sir. Thank you, sir."

"Good. I'll see you on Monday."

And with that, Davey was dismissed.

Saturday morning found Davey telling the other newsies and Katherine about the contest in Jacobi's, after a successful morning selling.

"So, if you win this, you could go to college?" asked Crutchie.

"If I win."

"Wow."

"What would you study?" questioned Henry.

"I don't know what you can study your first year of college. But I'd study as much as I could."

"You could study to become a doctor!"

"Or a lawyer!"

"Or a politician!"

"You don't have to go to college to be a politician. All you gotta do is be a cheat'n son-of-a-"

Davey cut Race off before he could stay exactly what politicians were. "Guys, I haven't even started writing the essay yet."

"Do you want to know the best, and worse advice you can give to someone who's writting something?" asked Katherine.

"Sure."

"Write what you know."

Davey groaned. "But I don't know what to write."

Katherine grinned at him. "And there you have the writer's main obstacle."

"What do you have to write about?" asked Jack.

"'Write about one event that has changed your life, and how.' We're supposed to choose one particular effect and write about why it was important."

"Maybe we could help!" Romeo enthusiastically offered.

"Yeah! Do you have any ideas?" This offered came from Crutchie.

"I wanted to write about the strike. But my teacher said I shouldn't."

"He thinks the strike wasn't life changing enough?"

"He said that as I'm no longer selling papers the results of the strike no longer affect me and therefore didn't change my life. He thinks it wasn't personal enough."

"Well," began Jack, "he's not writing the paper, is he?"

"True" said Katherine. "It's all about what you think, isn't it? Was the strike personal enough to write about?"

"I don't know!"

Katherine slid into the seat next to him, nudging Specs out of the way.

She pushed her notebook and a pen toward him. "Here, write a list of the ways your life has changed since the strike. Try to think of as many as you can. Then separate the personal ones from the non-personal ones. If none of them are personal enough, don't write about it."

"Thanks, Kath."

"No problem."

The other boys were always very good at not bothering Davey when he did something for school, and they all left him alone so he could brainstorm.

After a solid half hour of painful brainstorming, he had a pretty solid list. One item in particular was staring him so plainly in the face that he wondered why he hadn't thought to write about it before.

Two weeks before the essay was due, Jack brought up the topic.

"Hey, Davey, did you ever decide on a topic for your essay?"

"I did. A while ago, actually. I went over to Katherine's and typed up the essay last night."

"Can we read it?"

"Not until I find out how well I did."

Then Davey thought about what his essay was about. He was quite proud of it, but wasn't sure how his friends would react to the effect that he focused on. Maybe he shouldn't share it.

"I'm actually not sure if I let you read it at all."

"Aw. Come on, Davey. I know it's supposed to be personal, but we wouldn't make fun of you or anything."

"Hey." Race elbowed Jack. "Speak for yourself."

That earned him a crutch-whack in the shins from Crutchie.

"I know you wouldn't make fun of me." Davey looked over at Race, who was muttering under his breath. "At least not in a mean way. I'm just not sure I want anyone I know to read it."

"Don't you know your teachers?"

"Anyone I know well."

"Please, Davey?"

Davey huffed. "I'll think about it."

By the time Davey reached Jacobi's, everybody already knew. That's what he got for telling Les right after picking him up from school. But the fact that they all knew didn't stop him from announcing it as loud as he could.

"I won the first competition!"

As soon as the cheers had died down, Katherine asked, "Can we read your essay now, Davey?"

He handed the typed paper to her and she began to read aloud to the assembled newsies.

"Every event that happens changes your life to some extent. Sometimes it changes for the better, sometimes for worse. One event that changed my life was the strike I helped lead this previous summer. Without the strike, I never would have become friends with…"

Mini History Lesson

Not much to say for this one. I wrote it on a plane, and did all of my research while at my uncle's birthday party (shh!) and he had very poor cell service, so I made do with what I had.

1) In this story, Davey is going to Boys High School, which was a public school. Around this time period, there were two Boys High Schools in New York. One in Manhattan and one in Brooklyn. Davey goes to the one in Manhattan. This school still exists today as Dewitt Clinton High School, and is now located in the Bronx.

2) DeWitt Clinton High School is a public high school located in New York City. Opened in 1897 and all boys at first, it became co-ed in 1983. Clinton opened in 1897 at 60 West 13th Street at the northern end of Greenwich Village under the name of Boys High School, although this Boys High School was not related to the one in Brooklyn. This school was renamed for New York politician DeWitt Clinton in 1900. In 1906 it moved to its second home on 59th Street and Tenth Avenue, and in 1929 it moved to its present home on Mosholu Parkway in the Bronx.

3) The average cost of college in 1899, including room and board was $300 a year.

4) According to a 1890 United States census, the average american family lived on between $200 and $300 dollars a year.