CHAPTER TWO


And you'll be amazed
At the secrets I keep
You'll be amazed
At my mouth full of lies
But I'm too afraid to come clean
Cause my life's the flame in a house of cards

~ "House of Cards" by Madina Lake


I only slept about five hours in the night, despite my insane hangover and the fact that I was dead tired. I never slept long these days. Not after my father. I got up quietly, dressed in my boys' clothing, snatched my hat and darted quietly out of the house. The Manhattan Lodging House was only a few blocks away, so I jogged there, because running felt good. It felt real.

I grinned, seeing jack sitting outside, smoking a cigarette before the other's got up. "How's it rollin', Jack? Why up so early? It's not like you."

Jack shrugged at me. "Same reason you'se up early. Can't sleep."

I nodded. Jack knew about my issues with insomnia, but he didn't know why. As much as I loved my friends, I don't think I'd ever be able to tell them what Sean knew. Not about my father. No, I never would tell them.

I took the cigarette when he offered it and inhaled thoughtfully. "I'm really glad we stuck around last night. Sometimes I forget what it's like to have friends."

Jack smiled, taking the cigarette from me when I handed it back. "Yeah, you and Spot was getting real cute with each other," he said. I was disgusted. "You two was making eyes at each other all night. Almost as sick as Race and Wicked."

I felt heat flush up my neck. "Spot and I were NOT making eyes at each other, Jack Kelly!" I hissed, flustered as hell.

"Ya right, Angel," Jack readily agreed. "But if ya wasn't making eyes at Spot, then why ya getin' so embarrassed?"

"I ain't embarrassed!"

"An' defensive."

"Jack!"

"Don't worry 'bout it, Angel," Jack said easily. "Lots of girls get worked up 'round Spot. Comes with bein' the most feared newsie in New York. You ain't the first girl to make eyes at the guy."

I glared at the street. "For the last time, Francis Sullivan, I wasn't makin' eyes at Spot."

Jack smiled and ground out his cigarette under his heel and stood up. I jumped up and grabbed his arm. He turned toward me and peered down into my pale green eyes.

"Jack, I mean it. Spot ain't my type. And he don't seem like a nice guy if 'girls bore him' and all," I said.

Jack patted my shoulder and grinned. "He is a nice guy. Just obsessed with Brooklyn. Ya see, girls flock to him 'cause they think that's what he wants. And they like his power. He only goes through wit it tah keep those boys off his back. Trust me, Angel, if he wasn't womanizin' all over the place, them Brooklyn boys wouldn't respect him."

I rolled my eyes. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"That's Brooklyn."

I walked inside the Lodging House and sat down on one of the steps and Jack sat down beside me again.

"So I know you ain't here to talk about Spot," he said, thinking out loud. "So what are ya here for?"

I sighed. "I want to be a newsie, Jack."

Jack burst out laughing and continued to do so for at least ten minutes straight. I don't think he's ever laughed at me like this. Never.

"Are ya quite finished?" I asked quietly, fuming, temper spiking like a fever. "Cause I ain't kiddin'."

He quieted down, still snickering. "Why?" he choked between giggles.

"Because I can't be somethin' I ain't," I said simply.

"What's that?"

I shook my head. "A disgusting, hoity-toity, rich bitch. I can't take it no more, Jack. I ain't good at being rich. Never was."

"What brought this on, Angel?" Jack asked, peering over at me. I sighed.

"Dunno. Guess it's always been in me. I did start on the streets, remember?" I frowned, thinking of my life as a pick pocket.

"Yeah, true. So didja ask Medda yet?" Jack asked.

I frowned again, licking my bottom lip in thought. "No. I wanted to come here and ask you before I talked to her. You don't have to say yes, Jack. I understand if you don't want a girl to be a newsie."

Jack laughed again. "Angel, if any girl could be a newsie, then I'd definitely have to say I'd rather it be you."

I smiled at my hands. "You don't mean that, Kelly, and ya damn well know it."

Jack shook his head and then stood up. "I ain't foolin' with ya, Angel. I want ya to be a newsie with us. It'd be a good thing fer the boys. They ain't used to pretty girls 'round. 'Sides, you'se the toughest girl I know of."

I grinned and leaned back on the stairs. "Good. Then I will ask her. I just wanted to hear you say ya wanted me to come." I stood up and punched him in the shoulder before I walked out of the Lodging House.

"You'se a handful, ya know that, Angel?" he called after me. I jogged to Medda's, smiling the entire time. Well, I didn't really go there first. It was way too early for anyone else to be up.

I grabbed a roll and an apple for breakfast with my handsome pocket change I'd gratefully borrowed from the boys last night. I sat on the street corner, leisurely, since I was trying hard to kill time until I knew Medda would be at Irving Hall.

I got up when I started hearing cries of "Extra, extra!" and walked down the block to Irving Hall, still eating my apple.

"Lissa!" Medda cried and darted down the stairs from the stage over to me. Irving Hall was huge when it wasn't filled with attractive newsboys. "Darling, why are you here? You have school now."

I sighed. "Medda, there's something I have to tell you," I said, sitting on the stage, while Medda followed. "I want to be a newsie, Medda. I can't… live rich anymore. It's just not me. And I can't pretend anymore."

Medda untied my hair from the cord that bound it and stroked my hair. "Lissa, darling, you were never required to stay at my house. All of those girls are so special to me, and I didn't want you living on the streets anymore. Sweetness, you are free to do whatever you wish to, and if you wish to be a newsie, then I say by all means! Just come and visit every once and a while, love."

I smiled, joy replacing my nervousness. "Really?" I shrieked and then jumped up in excitement. "Oh, Medda! Thank you so much!"

Medda smiled and I realized that all my hair had gone everywhere in my excitement and jumping.

"Of course, darling," Medda laughed.

"Wait a minute," I sat back down. "Can I still perform? I still want to dance, Medda. Please, can I still dance?"

Medda smiled. "Of course you can, Lissa. What kind of performer would I be if I stopped you from dancing? Besides, just between you and me, I think you've got natural talent and I wouldn't want to stop that."

I nodded and hugged her so tightly. "Thank you so much, Medda!"

"You're welcome, darling," Medda hugged me back, and I was almost sorry to leave her. She was just like my mother and she hugged just like my mother, so I hugged her a little bit tighter, to make it last.

I darted down the center aisle and stopped when Medda called my name again. I turned in the doorway and smiled.

"Tell Jack Kelly he needs to come and see me soon!" she called and then waved after me as I darted out of Irving Hall. I pushed myself down the street, darting around vendors and snobby couples walking down the street.

Well, until I collided with a giant wall of muscle. I fell backwards onto the dusty sidewalk and rubbed my head. My hair was still out.

"Well, damn it that hurt," I hissed and rubbed my head. It felt like my brain had rattled inside my skull and that hurt like hell.

"Watch where you're going, little girl," a voice above me said. I peered up into the morning sunlight, the man silhouetted by the sun so I couldn't see him.

I pushed myself up, rubbing my head again as I stared at a very ugly boy. "I am not a little girl," I informed him, and then frowned. "But you're very ugly."

The guy put his hands on his hips and an equally ugly guy came up behind him. The newcomer grinned, showing off hideous teeth. I wrinkled my nose.

"Well, well," the newcomer said. "What have we here?"

I crossed my arms. "We have two very, very ugly brothers. And a pissed off girl. That's three people, in case you can't count."

The guy smirked. "Such a smart girl. I like 'em with a little fight in 'em," he stepped around his brother and attempted to touch my hair when I did something stupid.

I got defensive instantly. Nobody was allowed to touch me. I pulled my fist back and pushed him as hard as I could, which sent him reeling backwards into his brother. I took off running again, wanting to get to Central Park. I knew Jack would be there. And I was right. I rounded the corner and saw the cowboy himself hawking headlines like a champ.

"Jack!" I shouted, to get his attention.

He looked over, eyes wide. "Angel, what the hell—" he started before I plowed right into him. Jack was much more musclular so when I ran right into him, it didn't exactly feel like a picnic. He spun slightly, arms tight around me, to get my body to stop moving at such a high pace. "What the hell?" he exclaimed.

"The… boys… I…" I panted and then pointed to where I'd come from. I wasn't afraid, I just wasn't really sure how to get rid of them. Well, all right. I was terrified. I didn't need flashbacks of my father. Not now.

Jack looked up and grinned, his arms moving around my waist. If he wasn't my frined, I would've decked him right there. He leaned down to my ear. "Just play along, all right? I got this."

The guys came up to us, the one I'd punched had a split lip and it was bleeding. I grinned quietly against Jack's chest.

"Heya, Cowboy," the vulgar one addressed Jack. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

"So you two'se were chasin' my girl, eh?" Jack grinned and pulled me tighter. "Ain't good to mess with a man's girl."

"Who says we was chasin' her?" the vulgar one's brother asked at the same time the other said "She ain't no girl. She's an animal."

Jack grinned. "Well, I figure since Oscar's got a split lip and her knuckles are bleedin' that you tried sweet talkin' her and she punched ya like ya deserved. Ain't nobody sweet talks my girl."

The two hideous brothers looked at each other. They were getting nervous, and I probably wasn't the only one that was thrilled by that.

"So, you wanna get a black eye to go along with that lip?" Jack asked. The boys ran away so fast that I nearly burst out laughing. Jack let me go and I smiled up at him.

"You are a handful, ya know that?" Jack peered down at me, leaning down to grab his fallen papers that had scattered around his feet when I'd attacked him.

"Sorry. Just didn't know how to deal with them," I said. I didn't want him to know that I had been afraid of being touched by guys I didn't know.

Jack nodded and then ruffled my hair playfully. "Well, either way, they'se gone now. And since your here, ya can help me sell. If you'se gonna be a newsie, that is."

I nodded and then took some of Jack's papes. I walked to the other end of the block and looked at page three, where the best headlines usually were. Three was my favorite number. Three's company. Three's a crowd. Three is the number of completeness. It was a good number.

The headline was: 'Mayor Buys New Summer House For Cheap'

I smiled and stared shouting a better headline. "Mayor using tax payer's money to fund his endeavors! Find out how your money is being used!" I shouted. Drawing handfuls of people here and there.

It wasn't the best headline idea, but it sold the twenty papes I'd took from Jack's usual hundred. It took longer than I expected, which was weird. But I walked back to Jack, grinning with coins in my hand.

"How was the headline today?" Jack hugged me with one arm.

I peered up at him, pulling from memory the comment he made years ago when I first starting hanging out with them. "Headlines don't sell papes, Jack. Newsies sell papes."