The first week of school always stressed Race out more than anything else. The constant influx of new faces and information and teachers made his head spin. He was lucky he'd won the lottery into the charter system back in third grade, he knew that. He was lucky he wouldn't be attending the piece of shit public high school he'd been districted for. He was lucky all of his best friends were going to be there with him but Race really hadn't ever been good with change. The school was going to be bigger and more crowded; less intimate. He'd gotten used to the layout of William R. Hearst Intermediary. He'd even liked it there despite all of the complaining he'd done about it. What was the big deal about high school anyways?
The atmosphere outside was still thick with the memory of summer, not quite ready to let go of the season's warmth in exchange for autumn's crisp air. Race let himself feel the weight of his back pack digging heavily into his shoulders as he breathed in deeply. His lungs protested against the humidity and Race felt the beginnings of sweat prickling at his hair line. He wished the bus would hurry up. The last thing he wanted was to show up to his first class sweaty.
"Hey," the innocent and lack of a characteristic New York accent gave away the voice immediately.
"David," Race replied, giving a half enthused nod in greeting. He shifted his weight back on his heels and shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts. "Talk anyone to death this morning?"
"Shut up," David glowered and glanced back the way he came, looking for someone.
"Uh, preferably your sister," Race pushed on, his upper lip stiffening proudly and despite the fact that David had at least a foot of height on him, managed to peer down his nose in condescension . "But you know Jack wouldn't be too bad either.
David crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes. They waited in silence for a moment or two before David looked around a second time. He opened his mouth to say something but Tony beat him to it.
"Where the hell are they?"
"Jack isn't coming," David noted quietly, receiving a glare from Race.
"Why?" he barked. This was one of the many reasons he hated David. Before David had shown up it had been Racetrack and Cowboy, inseparable boy wonders. They told each other everything, well, almost everything. They'd done everything together. After David, Jack only ever seemed to be around when David was and even though David put out the innocent, nice boy impression, Race could swear there was passive aggression in every word he said.
"His mom wanted to drive him," David replied, clasping a hand to the back of his neck uncomfortably. For a while Dave had tried to get Race to like him. After three years of futile attempts, he'd given up.
The boys heard Ryan and Michael before they saw them.
"Blink! Give that back, you asshole!"
"Not gonna happen, Mushee!"
"You're such a dick!"
A shaggy haired blonde came sprinting around the block holding some sort of notebook tightly under his arm. His cheeks were flushed red from the heat and sweat dripped down the side of his face. An eye patch covered his left eye while the other gleamed clear and blue in the rising sunlight. Moments later a second boy came whipping around the corner. His skin was the light brown color of apple-cinnamon oatmeal with tight dark curls, like a mop on his head and a very annoyed scowl across his soft features. They both came to a stop between David and Race.
"Aw, did Blink steal your diary again?" Race asked cloyingly.
"Fuck you, Race!" Mush snapped breathlessly, leaning forward and placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He glared up at a smirking Blink from under his eyelashes.
"Well, if you weren't such a God damn fairy and quit leaving it around, he wouldn't take it!" Racetrack fired back. He was trying really hard not to laugh.
"Give it back, Ryan." David said calmly, a slight furrow in his brow.
"Oh shove it up Jack's ass, Davey!" Blink said lazily, cracking open the book in his hand. He began to read it aloud in a fake British accent. "Dear Diary, I think I've fallen in love with my best friend, Blink, but I know he'll never feel the same way." Blink paused, his smirk turning into a full on grin when he caught sight of Mush's deepening scowl. "Aw, Mushee, I didn't know you felt that way!"
"Fuck you." The corners of his mouth had begun to twitch as he fought to hold back a grin. "It doesn't say that."
"No," Blink shrugged. "But it's true."
Mush didn't answer.
Blink perked an eyebrow and the other two boys stared at him, amused.
"What?" Mush shouted, standing up straight. "It doesn't! Besides, Blink isn't my type."
"I'm not?" for a moment the taller boy almost looked crestfallen. He recovered quickly.
"Race on the other hand," Mush slipped an arm around a very angry little Italian.
"You've got five seconds to get your hands off of me."
Mush flinched a little and unwrapped his arm, mumbling an apology. He turned his attention back to Blink and the notebook with his hands on his hips.
"Seriously, Ryan, give it back." David repeated softly, his eyes downcast. He never felt real comfortable without Jack around. The only reason the guys even acknowledged him was Jack.
"Better listen to Davey, 'Ryan'. He said he's serious." Race teased flippantly.
"Shut up," David snapped. And for a second, Tony did. He searched the other boy's piercing eyes; they were sharper than he'd ever seen them. When he blinked it was gone but the moment left Race feeling kind of, well, bad.
Blink must've noticed too because he tossed the book back to Mush who consequently caught it and quickly flipped through the pages, making sure nothing was missing. When he seemed satisfied he pulled his back pack around and slipped the book in.
The boys stood in silence, save for Blink and Mush who'd gotten into a shoving match until one of them had hit the concrete and both of them fell into a fit of giggles. When the bus finally rumbled up, the four of them were hot and sweaty, clothing rumpled and hair frizzled in the humidity. Race was half way up the steps when a nasally voice called out behind him.
"Hey! Wait for me!"
Race looked back and grinned. Good old Crutchy. The gimp was limping as fast as his useless leg would carry him. Some years ago he'd been in a car accident. The shrapnel from the other car had torn so far into the ligaments in his calf that the doctors said they'd probably have to amputate. Crutchy had always been somewhat of a miracle in himself though. He'd been born four months early causing complications that no one knew the extent of. His first years had been touch and go but somehow, despite plenty of doctors telling his parents he wouldn't survive, he pulled through. His leg had been no different, he didn't lose the limb but he had lost most of its mobility.
"Hey, Crutch!" Race returned, his smile broadening.
"Kid, I don't got all day," a thick New York accent came from behind him, deep and raspy. Race turned and his smile was gone.
The man had a sneer that seemed permanently attached to his face, a receding hair line, and the pungent scent of beer and cigars hanging off of him. Race's stomach flipped with anger as the doors closed. He watched through the filth of the unclean windows as Crutchy's freckled face fell.
"Take your seat, kid," the driver said coarsely. Race whipped his head around, his dark eyes flashing.
"What the hell, asshole?" He lost his balance momentarily as the man, despite Race's compromised position in the well of the stairs, pulled away from the curb.
"It's Mr. Wiesel to you," he sneered.
"Whatever, Mr. Weasel."
"Sit the fuck down."
"Tony," David started cautiously. He stopped when he saw Racetrack glaring up at him.
"Fuck off, David."
Any steel that David had gathered earlier seemed to have vanished. That was fine by Race. The coward was back to being himself.
"Fuck!" Race swore as the Weasel slammed on his brakes, suspiciously harder than necessary, at a red light. He'd hit his shoulder against the railing of the steps and gripped it tightly with the hand of his other arm.
"Race," Mush shouted from the back of the bus. "C'mon. If you don't get back here fast Blink's gonna start trying to make moves on me again."
"Shut up, Princess! You're the one making moves one me!" Blink retorted.
"Who are the fags?" Wiesel asked Race, glancing up in the rearview mirror, his lip curled in disgust.
Racetrack had begun sputtering at Wiesel's last comment, unable to find the words. This guy was asking to get his ass kicked. His fist had begun to contract tightly, fingernails digging into his palms. David recognized the way his head had cocked sideways immediately and stepped in just as Race had wound his arm back.
"I'm reporting you to the school," he began forcefully, regaining his confidence. They may not have liked him but Michael, Ryan, Tony, and Andy; they were his friends. "This is completely inappropriate behavior for an adult in any situation, especially one involving teenagers. You've been derogatory and you've placed a student," he paused and gestured to Tony, who was staring dumbfounded up at him, "in danger by driving away without him being secure. If his shoulder is injured, you should bet your ass and every piece of crap you have to it that he'll sue, win, and take you for everything you've got. Don't ever talk to my friends like that again."
It was the Weasel's turn to be dumbfounded.
"Tony," David looked meaningfully at him. He didn't answer. "Tony!" David repeated, louder.
"Alright, alright, I'm not deaf."
David rolled his eyes. "Get up; we're going to the back."
"Don't tell me what to do, Davey." Still, Race stood and both boys took seats across from Blink and Mush, who were sitting nearly on top of each other, their eyes trained belligerently on the reflection of the Weasel in his rearview mirror.
Race glared out of the window and ignored the banter being exchanged between Blink and Mush and the occasional sound of David's strained laughter. His face was pressed up against the cool glass and he felt the anger boiling in his stomach. That asshole had left Crutchy…Crutchy...in the dust. Men like the Weasel reminded Race why he hated adults so damn much.
The bus came to a stop and Race made the walk back up to the front, pushing the panic bubbling from his stomach down. He took a deep breath and made his way down the stairs, not giving Mr. Wiesel the satisfaction of a look.
The school was located on a Manhattan street corner. It was in slightly better shape than the public schools that Race had seen around his apartment, but not much. Kids were pouring in from either side of the corner and funneling in through the front doors as buses swept in to unload then immediately back out of the way.
"You comin', Racetrack?" asked Mush, his arm slung casually around Blink's shoulders.
"Yeah, I'm comin', Princess," he sighed and took the steps up to the front door. A banner welcomed them as they entered into the lobby reading in bold, red letters: Welcome New Pulitzer Newsies!
"That's fucking stupid," noted Blink.
"Really?" David said thoughtfully, "I think it's kind of cool."
"You would, wouldn't you Davey?" A familiar drawl came up behind the boys and David's entire body slumped a little as he relaxed. Jack. "What d'ya bummers have for first block?"
"I've got English with Notts," Race answered instinctively, he'd memorized his entire schedule the night before, panicking that he would get lost in the new building. Mush and Blink clearly hadn't as they rummaged through their back packs and pulled out crumpled sheets of bright green paper.
"Theater arts with Larken," Mush answered, squinting at the print.
"Same," Blink grinned and slapped Mush on the shoulder.
"Ow!"
"Shut up, pussy."
Jack rolled his eyes, "Goddamn, Ryan, couldn't keep your hands off Michael for two seconds?"
Mush glared at the use of his real name and Jack shrugged in response.
"What about you, Davey?" Jack asked, clapping a hand on his best friend's shoulder.
"Advanced English," he replied uncomfortably. The rest of the boys shifted on their feet awkwardly. They all knew David was smart and they didn't resent him but sometimes they did hate him for it.
"Right," said Jack, filling the silence. "Where's Crutchy?"
Race was the one to explain what happened. Jack's face went beet red.
"Easy there, Cowboy." Mush joked. No one laughed and the silky skinned boy slunk back into Blink.
Needless to say that when the warning bell rang, all five boys were relieved. Jack was scary when he was pissed and he had the tendency to be extremely irrational about it. Race hoped he didn't end up doing something stupid, though he couldn't really think of anything the guy could do. It wasn't like he knew who the driver had been. If given the chance he was pretty sure he'd be irrational for Jack.
Race ended up late to his first class. He'd turned down the wrong hallway twice before he finally found the English room. His face was red and flustered when a man appearing to be in his 30s pushed open the door. He looked impatient.
"As I was saying," he looked pointedly at Race, "tardiness will not be accepted at any time during your career in this classroom."
Race scoffed. Who did this asshole think he was? It was the first day! He'd gotten lost.
"…we'll be reading Lord of the Flies, A Separate Peace, Romeo and Juliet, and the Odyssey. If there are any complaints on the selection I'm afraid you'll have to swallow them…"
After thirty seconds Race had drowned him out completely and started looking around the room. The class wasn't big, only about 25 kids, but larger than what Race had gotten used to. He only recognized a couple from Intermediary and he hadn't been friends with any of them. Suddenly, he felt extremely small and out of place. He was a street rat and while everyone else in the room probably was too, maybe he deserved to go to public school. This shit was wasted on him.
"You're going to make your fingers bleed," a voice whispered from his left. Race snapped back to reality and looked first down at his hands with their torn apart finger tips where he'd chewed them raw and then to the direction of the voice; a girl. She was small and brunette with carefully styled ringlets and wide green eyed. He immediately thought of the kid's movie Bambi.
"What's it to you?" he grumbled back at her.
"Well, they're your fingers," she shrugged.
"That's right, they are mine."
"My name's Katie," she said, smiling.
Race rolled his eyes.
"And yours is?"
"Tony," he answered shortly.
"Nice to meet you, Tony."
He winced at the cheer in her voice, "I wish I could return the sentiment."
"Anthony! Katherine!"
Both heads snapped back to the front. Katie went pale and mumbled an apology. Race didn't give the guy the satisfaction.
"I will not tolerate any wastes of time in this room. If I decide you're being a distraction, you will be kicked out and I will make you stay after school to make up the work." Once again he was looking primarily at Race.
Great, first day and I'm already the trouble maker, he thought and although he knew he was the trouble maker, it was the principle of the thing.
"You know," Race drawled, figuring he might as well validate the label Mr. Nott had already placed over his head. "I'd love to spend the extra time with you, sir."
Mr. Nott's eyebrows shot up behind circular glasses. He grabbed a clipboard and made a note, deciding to disregard the comment. Race was shocked. He wasn't used to being ignored when he decided to pick a fight. He glanced over at Katie shrinking in her seat.
"What?" he asked incredulously.
She shushed him, "I can't get into trouble."
His eyes rolled. Figures she'd be a straight edge.
The bell rang and Racetrack was glad to get out of there. He had science with Jack next. That would be a lot more bearable. Jack without David was a far better Jack.
"Hey, Tony!" he grinned as Jack came up behind him.
"What's up, Jackie?"
"Have I ever mentioned how much I despise Spanish?"
"Yeah, only a couple of times," he replied sarcastically. Jack bitched more about Spanish than he did about the Mets.
"Tony!" the squeak of the voice caused both Jack and Race to flinch.
"What?" he snapped back, finding wide green eyes as Katie caught up with him.
"I…I'm sorry," she looked down at her feet donning a pair of shoes that gave her five inches on her own height and at least three on Race's. She was tiny, making the plunge neckline of her sundress look awkward. The girl had the body of an eight year old and the face of one trying to look particularly older. Her limbs were lanky and awkward and the veins in her legs showed purple through pale skin. "I, uh, it was just in English…" she trailed off hoping that her classmate would get what she was trying to say. The silence proved he didn't. "Can we be friends?" she finished gawkily.
"What are we? Kindergarteners?" Race asked. Jack was stifling laughter. "If I say yes will you scram?"
She visibly shrunk back but gave a nod.
"Fine," Race threw his hands up a little. "Friends."
"Dude," Jack noted as they walked off.
"Fuck off, Cowboy."
"She looks like she's five."
"What the hell? Why would I care?"
"She has a crush on you."
"Fuck off, Cowboy."
"Well, it's true."
Race rolled his eyes as they entered the biology room together.
AN:
Alrighty, so I started something similar to this in ICE and decided I really hated it and stopped. Spot wasn't working and Race was coming off like a pussy. I didn't like it. It sounded like I was trying too hard so I sat down and revamped it. I actually planned out a plot which I NEVER do. Probably why I fail to finish anything, but that's beside the point. I wanted to let you guys know that I'm already a good ways into chapter two and I wanted to get this out I guess and see if the feed back was better. Idk, the premise of the chapter was mostly expositional. You know, establish Jack, David, Blink, Mush, and Katie. Katie is based off of the musical character Katherine Plumber but not a whole lot. Crutchy got the name Andy off of the guy who played him in the musical, Andrew Keenan-Bolger. Also, every crip ever (well, Archie from 13 and Artie from Glee) have A names that end in a y sound. I promise next chapter features Spot and starts the action. I didn't do a whole lot of research into the New York City charter schools so that's probably very inaccurate. ANOTHER THING a lot of the character traits and some of the backstory in this story were based on either the actors who played them, the original Newsies script, or the Newsboys they were based off of. PLEASE REVIEW. I need in depth critique on my writing, I'll even accept flames to be honest. Something more than an "UPDATE SOON" would be appreciated though like I said, any review at all is appreciated. I'll shout out and privately reply! I'm going to try and update once a week or at least once every other week.
DISCLAIMERS:
A lot of the inspiration for this story came from Everything I've Done Wrong by Sloanne. IF you haven't read it, go do so. It is life changing. That's where most of the real names came from. They had a very large influence on how this story came to be. Obviously Disney owns Newsies. So. Yes. This is obviously none profit. The title came from the Marianas Trench song Sicker Things.
Thanks!
WhisperMaw