So we have a snow day tomorrow and I am really wide awake right now and in my writing mood so here this is! This is the story I have mentioned a few times in my other Newsie fanfic, I Ain't No Girly-Girl. (It is under Plays/Musicals." Now, this is under Movies but it may also mention the Broadway k'may? Great!

Warning: contains profanity, but nothing bad or major.

Thanks! Review and Read On!

- Emily


All was quiet at the Queens Newsie Lodging House. A light drizzle came down outside, and the Newsies were happy to finally be out of it. It hadn't stopped all day, and selling newspapers in the rain is pretty hard to do. If you were smart, you were inside. So, the boys sat around in groups, huddled together in groups talking. A few of the boys had set up a small poker game in the back corner. Their leader, High-Brow, was sitting behind his desk with dozens of spread out papers around him.

High-Brow was tall. At 17 years old he stood a good 6'0 feet. His hair was sandy brown and lengthy. It covered his eyebrows and brushed the back of his neck. His neck was long, he had freckled that dotted his nose. On top of all that, he had very dark brown eyes. He wasn't that bad looking. Despite his appearance, his personality was where he got his name. You see, High-Brow is a synonym for genius, which was what he was known to be. He was always coming up with plans and strategies on how to sell more papes. Amazingly, things seem to fly right over his head. The one thing he seemed to lack was common sense.

High-Brow was writing frantically on a map of New York, Arrows and circles covered the page, with little notes on the sides. It was a wonder you could see the original map at all. In mid-sentence his lead snapped.

"DAMN IT!" He yelled, slamming his fist on the desk.

One hit.

Two hits.

Three hits.

Each time his fist made contact with the wood he repeated the phrase, and each time louder and harsher. He didn't even notice when the door squeaked open and his second-in-command, Scrunch, came in. Smirking, he walked over to High-Brow and flicked a paper ball at his head.

"Calm down, would ya? Your scaring the younger boys." He said. High-Brow took a deep breath, sitting down and putting his head in his hands.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"So, how is the planning going?" Scrunch asked.

Scrunch was way shorter than High-Brow, standing only 5'6 at age 16. He had sea green eyes and jet black hair. His face was clear of freckles, but his ears stuck out a bit farther than normal. He was more care free than High-Brow. He was always looking for some fun, but he knew how to control himself and when to be serious. That didn't mean he didn't provoke High-Brow. He got his nickname because of how his eye brows scrunch together when he smiles.

"Not good, Scrunch. Brooklyn has attacked us three times this past week, and we are loosing more newsies to them everyday."

"It probably doesn't help that they have Harlem and Manhattan helping them does it?" Scrunch asked, a devious smile on his face.

"No, it definitely does not. Thank you for pointing that out, Scrunch."

"Anytime, buddy."

Queens and Brooklyn had been in a turf war for awhile now. No one really knew who started it, it just happened. It seemed to be at it's peak, though. So far, Brooklyn had always had the upper hand. They were the toughest borough in New York, and having backup only made them stronger. Queens was small in numbers, considering when they attacked they would soak you until you gave in and transferred boroughs. High-Brow had lost so many newsies...

"They are becoming to unpredictable. I need to know what they are planning-"

"Should we strip you of your name?" Scrunch teased.

"Shut up and think." The boys thought for a moment. Finally, Scrunch spoke up.

"Why don't we just send over a spy?"

"Because Brooklyn knows what we all look like and they have some of our old Newsies." High-Brow said.

"Yeah, but what if we put the spy in Manhattan?" High-Brow looked up.

"Manhattan? Scrunch, that's genius! Brooklyn is close ti Manhattan, anything Spot does he won't do without asking Jack about it first!"

"That's it, hand over the name." Scrunch said, a serious look on his face.

"Let's see, I'm not sending our youngsters over. It's to dangerous. They need to be tough, but have a good ear. They need to be loyal to us to death, that was they won't grow attached to the Manhattan boys and decide to join them. They can't know much about our plans, so that was they have no chance of ratting us out..."

"Whisk!" Scrunch shouted.

"What? Whisk?"

"Yes! She is quiet, and you know how she can hear a conversation across the hall when it's whispered! Her hearing is like a dog, that's the saying right? Oh well, she is tough when she needs to be. When I found her she was holding off to bulls and got away! She even left one bull with a nasty black eye. She is level headed, so she won't have any trouble getting in trouble with Jack. Plus, I know she will be loyal. She may not talk to you, but the girl will chat my ear off, If there is one person she would never betray it's me." High-Brow considered what Scrunch had just said,

"I don't know. She is our girl-"

"Your right! She is a girl, so the boys will be soft on her! Who knows, one of them might fall for her and she may be able to hear more plans about Brooklyn!" Scrunch said, excitedly.

"Fine. Bring her up." High-BRow said. He hoped he wouldn't regret this. Scrunch practically bounced out of the room and was back in an instant with Whisk.

Whisk was at medium height, standing 5'7 at 14 years old. She had brown hair with blonde highlights that reached just past her shoulder. It was always worn in a single braid over her shoulder. Her eyes were a pretty shade of crystal blue. She had gotten her name because of how quiet she could be. Sometimes the boys compared her to a ghost. She could walk right behind someone and they wouldn't even notice until she finally said something. She calls it, 'saving her two cents.'

"Here she is!" Said Scrunch, who was still smiling. He plopped down in a chair and Whisk stood behind him.

"Um, hey, Whisk," High-Brow said, never really feeling it completely natural to talk to her. "You know about our little war with Brooklyn, yes?"

Whisk nodded her head.

"Okay, well, any idiot could see we are loosing. We need a person on the inside to get us information that could be crucial. You know like when they will attack, if any other boroughs are helping them, things like that. We were hoping you would go over to Manhattan to spy for us." He said. Whisk bit her bottom lip.

"Um,"

"It will be super easy. You would live with them until we either decide we have enough information to possibly pull ahead and win, or until they beat us, which hopefully will not happen. You would still sell papes. At night you would have to sneak out and meet us here. It's a long walk, but it is less risky then us walking near the other boroughs. Please?" Scrunch said. Whisk thought for a moment,

"Okay. I'll do it. But Scrunch, you owe me." Scrunch laughed and stood up to hug her.

"We should leave now. Whisk, you shouldn't take anything. I'll explain the plan along the way."

Thanks for reading! I am getting ready to write the next chapter so it will be up very soon! Please review and tell me what you thing!

Also, Whisk's age. In most stories I read the protagonist is usually 15-18 years old, so I thought I would make her younger to get a new view. Plus, I am 14 so I feel I can write this story better if I tell it like how I would react at that age. So yeah, she is 14:)

Thanks!

- Emily