Sorry this was so late guys; I've just been busy with real life stuff. Thank you all so much for your reviews and follows. I appreciate everyone's support! Thank you all for your patience, and here's the next chapter! Maybe I'll even get you all another chapter before the week is up!
Chapter 3
In order to know which bunk it would be acceptable to "borrow" (Kate didn't like to call it stealing because she had been told from a very young age that stealing was wrong, and besides, after she felt safe enough to go home, she'd put the sheets back), Kate knew she would have to ask Snipeshooter. Said boy was inspecting his face closely in the mirror when Kate came down, and, not expecting company, was startled when Kate called his name.
"Whaddaya want?" he shot back, almost dropping the razor he had started to grab. "This better be important, yah just gave me a heart attack!"
"I need to know which bunk I can take some sheets from. I wouldn't want to trouble anyone else's sleep."
Snipeshooter was surprised that she was being considerate to boys who she hadn't even met. He was expecting someone from a high-class background to be rude and intimidating towards people like him. This girl didn't seem like much of a threat, except when she'd caught him staring at her legs (he still didn't think he'd done anything wrong).
"You can take 'em from this bunk." He gestured to a bunk in the back right corner. Kloppman always made the beds after the boys left, so Snipeshooter knew that Kate would never know if someone slept there at night or not. This bunk just so happened to belong to one of his pals who had, once again, irked him because he wouldn't give him a cigar ("'cause you're still a twerp"). Snipeshooter thought that this would be a perfect time to get even.
Without even questioning it, Kate stripped the bed of everything save for the mattress, and Snipeshooter tried his best to keep a straight face. He only allowed himself to laugh once he heard Kate's feet on the stairs.
Kate could have sworn that she heard laughter when she started climbing the stairs, but she was too tired to really question it. For all she knew, no one had actually laughed and it was simply a product of her overactive imagination. Besides, she thought, Snipeshooter would never truly harm her. He was rude, but not menacing by any stretch of the imagination.
She'd never made a bed in her life before, but thankfully, it was not that difficult of a task. At first, she mixed up the order of the sheets before she realized that the sheet that was thinner actually covered the mattress, and the thicker, more widespread sheet was meant to go on top of it. However, she eventually noticed that it didn't feel right when she sat on the bed, and reversed the two. She placed the second pillow next to the first one on her bed, and when she was finished, she decided the bed looked messy, but functional.
Kate had just finished putting the second pillow on the bed when she heard a lot of shouting coming from downstairs. Thinking that the shouting had something to do with her being there, Kate decided that she'd better explain her situation before, heavens forbid, Snipeshooter decided to do it for her, so she hurried down the stairs and into the boys' room (shocking herself with her own brazenness once again).
The sight she found would have amused her if she was simply an onlooker in the situation. However, in this case, Kate quickly figured out that she was inadvertently the perpetrator of the shouting from before.
A short Italian boy who looked about her age was screaming furiously at Snipeshooter and pointing to the bunk that Kate had stripped of its sheets. Snipeshooter had his hands raised in surrender. As soon as Kate walked in the room, the younger boy said, "There's the sheet thief, Race! I told youse that I didn't do it! She just came in here an' took the sheets off o' your bed for her room in the attic!"
The boy's murderous glare was soon fixed on her, and Kate realized that he was about as tall as she was, which surprised her somewhat, but it was soon made clear to her that whatever he lacked in height, he made up for in personality. She could feel the rage coming off of him in waves, and she almost wanted to apologize for her actions, but she also wasn't going to give up her new sheets without a fight. He'd get them back before long anyway.
"Snipeshooter told me that it was acceptable for me to take sheets from your bunk, so I did. He never mentioned that the bunk belonged to anyone, so I, naturally, brought the sheets up to my room in the attic. It won't be for very long at all; I'll return them tomorrow or the day after next when I return home." she told him in her most neutral, diplomatic tone that usually worked whenever she was trying to defuse an argument. However, in this case, she actually failed.
"An' where is home, sweetheart?" he asked as his eyes raked over her figure. For some reason, this small up-and-down was even more uncomfortable than Snipeshooter's blatant leering, and she assumed then that the younger boy had learned how to treat women from him. "The brothel? The way that dress looks, I wouldn' be surprised."
This crude remark sent waves of laughter throughout the lodging house, and for the first time in her life, Kate felt well and truly humiliated. She felt her face redden as the boy asked another question, "Who are youse, and why are youse here? Unless, of course, you're offering your services, in which case I, for one, am more than happy to pay." Another round of laughter spread through the lodging house.
Ugh, Kate thought, this boy is disgusting. Unfortunately for her, however, he seemed to have a lot of respect amongst the boys in the lodging house. Maybe, she thought, if she answered this question truthfully, she might gain some respect too. After all, she assumed, who wouldn't want to help somebody of stature?
"My name is Katherine Jameson," she said, holding her head up with as much dignity as she could muster, "I am the daughter of Frederick Jameson, head of the Jameson Law Firm. I was pursued by Oscar DeLancey earlier today, and I needed a place to stay in order to hideā¦"
"See fellas, she ain't a whore," Race spread out his arms and turned to face his friends, "She's a scab. I almost don't know which is worse."
Kate now wished that she'd been perceived as a whore. Everyone's eyes darkened with pure rage, and she heard various insults like, "Why don't you run home to Mommy, wittle scabby?" or just, "Scab!" along with various versions of, "Get outta here!"
She was at her breaking point. She had lost any respectability she had, was completely alone, possibly being hunted, and the one place that she thought might save her had turned into her own personal hell. She figured that jumping out of the attic window might be the only thing that could save her now.
Suddenly, she heard a voice at the door. It was incredibly faint, and it had gotten deeper, but Kate recognized the voice from many years ago, when she had saved its owner from the DeLanceys.
"Hey fellas!" the boy exclaimed cheerfully as he walked in the door, leaning heavily on his crutch. "What's all the ruckus abou-Miss Kate? Hey, what's goin' on here?"
For the first time all day, Kate started to smile.
"It's good to see you, Crutchy," she replied, "I know it's been a long time, but I intend to use the favor that you gave me all those years ago."
