"Racetrack, think fast!"

WHAM

"Ow! Hype, yah jehk, that was me hoit wrist!"

"You liar, yoah wrist ain't hoit! You're just sayin' that to get sympathy from goils!"

"Yeah, and it's woiking!"

"You wish, asshole!"

Jack watched in amusement from the doorway as Manhattan's only girl newsie fought with Manhattan's crazy gambling Italian newsie.

"Lemme see you're wrist."

"No, you'll hoit it more!"

"It ain't hoit!"

"Alrigh', alrigh', break it up, we gotta go buy papes." Jack stepped in. Hype shook Racetrack off of her and stood up to give Jack a friendly clap on the back.

"Good morning, Cowboy."

"Morning, Hype."

"Hey, what about me?" Kid Blink stepped in front of Jack. "Don't I get some soit of greetin'?"

"Fuck off, Blink." Hype giggled at the fake-hurt look on his face.

"Ouch, sugah, that hoit!" Hype stuck out her tongue at him, and bent down to pick up her hat that she had previously beamed Race with.

"Heya, Hype!" Mush stepped around Blink and kissed her hand. Being Manhattan's only girl newsie, Hype got pampered a lot. In the lodging house, she got her own room, she got dibs on the bathroom anytime she needs to, and she was always first in line at the distribution center. Hype was like their little sister, and they were fiercely protective of her.

"Alright, enough chit-chat, yah bums, we gotta go carry the banner." Hype joked. The boys laughed, and Race linked arms with her as they exited the lodging house and walked to the distribution center. As they were walking, Hype looked around warmly at all the boys surrounding her.

"My boys," she thought. "They're my boys."

"Um, Hype, can you frickin' hurry up!"

"Alright, alright!"

Hype girl pushed her way through the throng of newsies and caught up to Race.

"Wonder what the headlines are gonna be this time; last time they wasn't so good." She commented. They were waiting in line at the distribution center to buy some newspapers to sell.

"Yeah, no kiddin'," Race scoffed. "Hey, Skittery, come 'ere!" Skittery ran over with fifty papers tucked under his arm.

"Hiya, Race, Hype." Skittery tipped his hat to her.

"Hey, Skitty." Hype affectionately punched his arm. Skittery gave her a look but didn't say anything. Hype was the only one he ever allowed to call him "Skitty."

"So what's the news?" Race asked. Skittery handed him one of his papers. The headline read:

RUMOURS OF UNDERGROUND ARMY?

"Apperantly, there are some rumours goin' around in Washington about Roosevelt formin' an underground army. Bunch 'a' baloney if you ask me." Skittery lit up a cigarette.

"People will do anythin' just to sell a measly pape, huh?"

"Yeah, we will do anythin' just to sell a measly pape, Skitty." Hype snickered. Race chuckled at Skittery's confused face.

"Skitty, wake up! We're newsies. That's sorta what we do."

"Oh." Skittery laughed. "Yeah. I forgot."

"Well, at least we won't 'ave tah make up any headlines. These are crazy enough tah sell by themselves." Hype and Race both waved goodbye to Skittery, and bought a hundred papes.

Racetrack was proud to say he was Hype's very best friend, out of all the newsies. They did everything together, they ate together, walked together, joked together, fought together, and sold together. Today, as usual, they were gonna sell at the races.

"I don't know why you bothah sellin' there, Race. It's full of hoity-toity suits who won't even look at yah. Plus, yah lose all yoah money."

"No I don't! I win sometimes!"

"Uh, yeah. Let's just get it ovah with."

After they were both done selling, Hype and Race headed back to the lodging house.

"So I heard Brooklyn's throwin' a huge party tomorrow at Medda's," Race told her. Hype shoved her hands in her trouser pockets.

"Yeah?"

"Yup." They walked in silence for a bit. Race knew that Brooklyn was a sensitive spot with Hype. He almost laughed at his unintentional pun. Hype had a sensitive spot for Spot. What girl didn't?

"What foah?" Hype asked.

"Spot's birthday." Hype bit her lip.

"Hm. You gonna go?" She asked.

"Yeah. Brooklyn throws the biggest parties. Not to mention, only the hottest goils show up 'cause of Sp-" He stopped himself before he finished his sentence. More silence.

"It's okay, I know what yah were gonna say." Hype finally spoke.

"Sorry, it's just…." Race didn't finish his sentence. It's just what? True? True that Spot was the hump'n'dump type? One minute he's banging a girl, the next she's already out on the street and he's in bed with another?

"I'm not even tryin' anymore. I know he only thinks of me as a friend."

Racetrack didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. The fact is, that was true. Spot did only think of Hype as another Manhattan newsie. A friend. Nothing more, nothing less. And it killed Hype.