Hey everyone!
CosmicOasis: I'm glad you like how it flips back and forth between past and present; I was worried that people would find it confusing. Thanks!!
ilovenewsies: Thanks so much for your two reviews!! They were so encouraging and nice!! And don't worry, the rain and sick mysteries will play out, I think…
EmeraldGreyClouds: Thanks so much for reviewing! Haha hopefully you'll find out soon… :)
Thanks to you three and everyone else who read! Reviews for this chapter would be great!! Enjoy!
I don't own anything or anyone you recognize from Newsies.
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March, 1900.
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I slowly awoke, full of warmth and drowsiness. I blinked a few times. Hart smiled down at me, her face upside down.
"There you are," she said happily.
She was brushing my hair. I was lying on the hearth of the fireplace, wrapped in blankets. I was dry and in a new shirt and skirt. Hart's, of course. This happened often and I knew the drill.
I looked up at Hart. She smiled. "He came, alright," she said, answering my unvoiced question.
I rolled my eyes.
"Don't even try that," she scolded. "I know you were wondering. Itey's here – and he played lookout. As soon as he saw him, we ran upstairs and waited for him to come in. He came in and then I crept down the stairs, quiet as possible. He was standing right here -" she stood and placed her feet right next to me, "and just looking at you. I couldn't see his face, but I could see yours. He just couldn't resist…" She sighed and sat back down. "Then I crept back up the stairs, even though I wanted to see what he'd do, and then loudly came back down them. He was standing by the door when I came back down, being all sly. He nodded to me and asked where Jack was. And you know me, I get nervous around him. I told him Tibby's. Then he asked if you'd be alright, and I nodded. Then he was gone."
She started absently stroking my hair.
"It's so romantic, all of this, Frey," she said. "He is so good looking…"
"It's not romantic at all, Hart! It's not romance in the least bit. I don't know what it is, but it's not that," I said. "You know what happened."
"He seems to feel bad for it."
"He doesn't care enough to tell me in words. I don't think we've spoken more than one or two words since then," I sighed.
"Oh, Frey," Hart sighed, too.
"Hart, I don't care! What he did hurt me so badly! My parents did the exact thing."
There was a silence. Hart was still stroking my hair.
"You have the most beautiful hair," she said. "And, did you know," she said, her voice immediately returning to its normal perky tone. "Blink still hasn't officially asked me out?"
I laughed. I love how easily Hart can change the subject. I sometimes just want to say things but not talk about them. She knows stuff like that.
"And it's been how long…?"
"Thirty-three days," she said immediately, making me laugh harder.
"Keeping track?"
She blushed. "Yes."
"That's sweet, Hart. You two are great together. And you're definitely still a thing to everyone else, even if it hasn't been spoken. You two have made that clear."
She blushed even more. "And what about you! You and…"
"Haha," I cried triumphantly, sitting up. "You have no leverage against me!"
I swirled around so that I was facing her. Both of us had our knees up to our chests.
"Someday I will Frey, someday soon," she said.
"What makes you so sure?" I scoffed.
"I just know," she responded, her eyes twinkling. "And you know who you'd be perfect with…"
I groaned and prodded Hart's foot with mine. "Hart," I whined. "Please."
"Fine, fine," she said. "But really…what are you waiting for?"
"You mean who…" I muttered.
"No," she said. "I mean what. Are you waiting for someone to come to you? To fall into someone's arms? For fate to bring you to someone?"
"I don't know," I said. "I don't know. I mean, look at you and Blink. You just naturally came together."
"But this is you, not me."
"I know. I have no idea what I want, though. I haven't seen anything – or anyone, really – that I want to want."
"Frey, how can that be possible if you don't know what you want?"
I put my head in my hands. "I don't know," I said wearily. "I don't know, Hart."
Then I lifted my head and smiled at her.
"But I don't really care. Finding a guy isn't exactly on the top of my priority list."
She laughed. "We all know that." Suddenly her eyebrows raised and her mouth curved into a devious smile. "You know, Frey," she said slowly. "If it really doesn't matter that much, why don't you just say yes once and a while when a guy asks you to dance?"
I sighed. "I will. Sometime soon."
"Hah!" Hart jumped up and pointed a finger at me. "I knew it!"
I frowned at her. "Knew what?"
"That soon I'd have leverage against you!" She grinned.
I smiled. "It's not going to be like the leverage I have against you."
She rolled her eyes. "Can I do your hair? Please?"
"Sure," I said, and smiled as she bounded up the stairs.
In the new fallen silence, I could hear the rain again.
I thought about what we'd discussed. It was true. I don't know what, or who, I want. But I don't really think about it much, only when Hart pesters me about it. Mostly, with guys, I just love being their friends. I'll notice if they're good looking, or not, but I don't think about them as more than friends. Well, consciously. In my dreams sometimes things happen. Involving "romance". And sometimes, fleeting images cross my mind about what it would be like to be someone's girl, but I never spend hours thinking about it. Not anymore. I used to when I was a lot younger. About one boy in particular. Some of those thoughts remain and occasionally enter my head. I like to think that the only reasons I think about him are because I used to think about him all the time, and one doesn't forget easily, and the fact that Hart always brings him up. I honestly don't know though. What I value most is spending time with people I can have fun with and trust, and that's what I do.
Hart came bounding back down the stairs, with ribbons and pins in her hands. She set them all down the hearth and picked up the brush that was already there.
"Now, what color is the skirt I gave you again? Navy. Okay…Let's see here…" she murmured as she settled behind me and began brushing my hair. "Navy…and your shirt's cream…alright, I'll use the gold ribbon."
She picked up some pins and began sticking them into my head. I don't have a sensitive head at all. I love it when she does my hair. It feels nice.
"You know," she said. "I've been thinking about something recently. The younger kids love you. Even all the kids who're Rucks' age. It's great and all, but why don't they love me?"
I laughed. "They love you. Sometimes you're just…preoccupied. I think that puts them in awe and they admire you from more of a distance than close up."
I could feel her smile. "You're probably right. Hopefully. But sometimes I wish the kids, especially the little ones, would run up to me the way they run up to you…little kids are adorable."
I smiled. "Well, Hart, stick with Blink, and soon enough –"
"Freya!" She gasped, halting in her work.
I laughed. I love astonishing her. "And soon enough the kids will get used to you being with him."
"Oh," she said in a small voice, continuing in her work, with a small embarrassed laugh.
We were silent for a few moments. I enjoyed the feeling of getting my hair done, the warmth of the fire surrounding me, and the sound of the rain outside.
"There," Hart said. She stood up and clapped her hands. "Oh, Frey. C'mon! Let's go look in the mirror! I worked hard on it," she said. She helped me slowly get up and waited as the blood rushed through my head. "Ready?"
I nodded. We made our way up the stairs and to the bathroom. I missed the warmth of the fire already, but kept going to the bathroom to make Hart happy.
"Look!" Hart said as we came into the bathroom.
I stood in front of the mirror and smiled. "It looks great, Hart."
She'd actually done a good job. She's good at this kind of thing. My brown hair was swept back by the ribbon, which was set farther back on my head, allowing some pieces to escape onto my forehead. I tilted my head so I could see what she'd done in the back. It was some kind of elaborate half bun. Half of my hair was twisted into it and the other half was out.
I shivered involuntarily.
Hart took my arm. "Let's go back down."
Just as we were settled at the hearth and the blankets were back around me, the door burst open. Loud noise immediately filled the room as everyone streamed in, dripping and shouting from the cold. The younger ones tore off their shoes and sprinted over to us. Hart immediately moved to make more space for them, but I motioned for her to stay. As I predicted, one of the little ones, Fists, immediately snuggled up to her. And even though he was soaking, Hart was all smiles.
Mush came over to me as Tweet and Whit competed for the most blanket space next to me. Mush handed me Five, the youngest newsie, four years old, named for his tendency when we originally found him at two years old to open up his hand and stretch all five fingers over and over again. He was quite small for his age, and was also quite attached to me.
"Thanks Mush," I said as he hung up his gloves above the fireplace. "Sure you're not cold?"
He smiled. "Just wet, not cold. Muscles, remember?" Then he frowned. "And you? My coat didn't do much, huh?"
"I'm fine. Without your coat I'd have been worse," I smiled at him.
He smiled. "Hey," he said. "Nice hair."
"Thanks Mush," Hart said for me, beaming.
"Looks good," Mush said. Then he tapped a finger on my nose and turned away.
"It's freezin' out dere, Freya," Five said, snuggling into me and closing his eyes. He pronounced his 'r's as 'w's.
"It is, huh?"
"Ya…"
"Well you're here by the fire now, and you'll be all cozy and warm real quick," I said, pushing his somewhat long hair out of his eyes.
"I told you." I looked up. Rucks was standing there with his arms folded. "I knew it wasn't a good idea for you to go. And," he added, lowering his voice. "I know you don't want me to say it, but I was right about another thing. We were dead. And we sure got it."
He jerked his back, and I looked over his shoulder to see none other than him. I focused right back on Rucks.
"You're all alive, as far as I can see."
"Ya, as far as you can see." He shivered a bit.
"Rucks, take off your coat and gloves. You'll freeze in all that wet stuff. Do you have extra clothes upstairs?"
"Yes, mother," he droned, and then moved to the side to hang up his gloves.
And then he was there. Right behind Rucks. He was taking off his gloves. The kids on the hearth all quieted as he hung them up.
I wasn't looking at him, but I saw him nod at me. "Frey," he said.
"Freya," I corrected in automatically, my eyes elsewhere.
"Sorry," he said. Then he turned away, and immediately the kids began talking again.
Rucks was back and grinning broadly at me. "I love it when that happens!" he whispered.
I rolled my eyes.
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