Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies, Disney does. I just own Nelly and her family.

Nelly's PoV

1900

Woods Races

"Nelly, work your magic, will ya? We needa close, and he's been here all night." my dad said to me as I finished cleaning off the windows in our box. I looked out enough to see some kid leaning over the railing, head drooped and hair covered by what looked like one of the golf caps my Papa lets me wear. The races had just ended, and just about the entire place was empty, except for that kid. The guy we bough the racetrack off of said that kids hung around and bet on the horses a lot, so I assumed this was one of them.

Okay, let me explain a bit. My name's Nelly Woods, I'm sixteen, and I just moved to New York city a few weeks ago from Scranton, Pennsylvania, coal mining center of Lackawanna County. For the past few years, we've been contemplating moving, and so finally, we did. And to New York! The only reason we've been thinking about moving was because of my dad; he owned a racetrack in the Poconos, but buissness began to slow down, so we bought one here. Sheepshead Races is now Woods Races, plain and simple.

This was the first night that we got to run the place, so I stayed from school to watch Coal -my horse- race.

I eyed the kid for a little while before I actually walked outside. He didn't look very tall, or old, for that matter. Maybe about my age or so, I really couldn't tell. And it didn't look like he knew I was there anyway, so I decided to have some fun while I was there.

"Everybody empty out! We gotta close up!" I shouted. The kid nearly jumped three feet into the air. It was dead quiet before I made my little announcement, and it was dark enough for me to see the stars peaking through the navy sky. It was really peaceful.

The kid's eyes widened and he gripped his shirt by where his heart was. "Jesus, ya scared the crud outta me!" he grumbled. "Ya can't juss go 'round yellin' like ya own the place."

"I can and I do. Mind telling me why you're moping around here before I kick you out?"

He frowned, then shook his head. I felt like he was looking at me weird. Probably because; a) I was a girl, b) I was a girl who owned a racetrack, and c) I was a girl who owned a racetrack who was dressed in pin stripe pants. I noticed a while ago that most of the girls around here wore long, ugly skirts. Most girls did back home, too, but I still wore pants. I felt comfortable.

"Sheepshead. It got sold ta you?" he questioned, raising one of his dark eyebrows. I took a guess that he was Italian. His hair was dark, his eyes were dark, and his skin was a bit olive. If anything, he looked like the guy version of me. My hair was a very dark, thick brown, my eyes just a little lighter than that, and my skin was tan. I was a full-blooded Italian.

"Yeah. Got a problem with that?" I fired back, crossing my arms over my chest. That was another indication that I very much hated; most Italian girls have a very large chest, starting from about age nine or ten and on. It wasn't something most girls were proud of.

"Juss as long as I can bet, I don't care." he smiled, but it wasn't a normal smile, it was more of a 'take that' smile.

I got an idea just then. We were standing about two yards away from each other, so it was easy for me to build up tension when I started walking toward him, a small smirk creeping across my face. He didn't seem to know what I was doing, because he had a confused look on his face. It was when I stopped that he gulped; I had walked so close to him that the tips of our shoes touched, and I had leaned foreward, so out noses were only an inch apart.

"One lap. I bet you the black horse will win. I win, you leave one race earlier than you usually do. You win, you can stay as long as you like. Deal?"

Now I got a real smile out of him. Well, sort of. It was more half smile half smirk, but a smile none the less. "Deal." he spit into his hand and held it out.

"Ew..." I sighed, but went ahead and spit into my own hand and shook. Then I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted at the track. "One more lap, guys. Coal and Jersey!" the jockeys started moaning, but agreed anyway.

"Prepare to lose, kid." I smirked, moving from in front of him to next to him, my hands gripping the rail. He turned and watched, his arms folded. "Go!" I shouted, and they were off.

Coal started out strong, leading for more than half of the track. But then a blur of carmel passed by him and crossed the line before he could. Both of the horses skidded to a halt and were led back to their stables.

"Thanks guys." I called, a hint of disappointment in my voice. Coal hardly ever lost, but I guess you couldn't win them all. I tapped my finger against the rail, enjoying the cling sound my ring made against the metal. I looked at the kid, who was smiling.

"What was the 'bout losin?" he asked, smiling. I shrugged it off. So he got to stay as long as he wanted, big deal. "Now, what was the deal again?"

I sighed heavily. "I win, you leave a race earlier than you usually do, you win you stay as long as you want. That means as many races as you like, not stay until three hours after closing."

He laughed. "You didn't say that, girly."

I frowned, rolling my eyes. I wanted to slug him.

"Whats your name, anyways?" he then asked.

"Nelly Woods, Scranton, Pennsylvania."

"Coal miner, huh? Interesting."

"And you?"

"Names Anthony. Friends call me Racetrack-"

"Can't imagine why." I mumbled. He shook his head, either annoyed or amused with me.

"I'm from heah. Not heah heah, but New York heah."

I nodded. Most people who came were from the area, or at least that was how it was back home.

"I'll go now tanight. Guess I'll see ya tamarrow, Nelly." He nodded at me before turning around and walking away. I had to admit, no matter how many times I've kicked people out of the racetracks, this was the first time I really didn't want to. He was just about the cutest boy I've seen since I moved here.

My dad tapped me on the shoulder and knocked me out of my trance. "Time to go home, Nel. Good work."

A/N: First chapter up! Please R&R.