Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies. All other characters belong to their respective creators.


Chapter 09.
Beverly Persimmons

Let the countdown begin!

With a bright pink highlighter, Corky happily circled Friday three times on her calendar. As an afterthought, she opened her drawer, pulled out a sheet of glittering stickers, peeled a few off and stuck them on the calendar, too. She leaned back in her seat to take a good look at her creation. Satisfied with the celebratory art, she tossed her stickers back in her drawer and went back to real work.

It was only ten, but Corky had already been hard at work for the past hour and a half, having come in earlier than usual. There was a lot to be done this week: filing applications and paperwork, updating the database, handling new job postings. Corky was determined to get them all done before Friday.

Despite having only been at Pulitzer Publishing for several weeks, Corky loved it. She actually enjoyed coming into work in the mornings—and Corky was by no means a morning person. She was learning a lot on the job, she had an awesome office buddy in Polaroid, and, of course—she glanced over to his cubicle—there was him.

A shared laughter outside the office doors cut through her thoughts. Corky spied Polaroid coming into work (interns came in at ten) with a bright-eyed look on her face. At her elbow was a tanned boy with smooth black hair, smiling back at her. Corky recognized him instantly, of course, considering all the visits he had been making to the office lately: Bumlets, the Finance intern who had saved Polaroid from interning in Finance and Accounting rather than her first choice with Human Resources.

Bumlets left with some polite parting words. They waved as they separated and Polaroid walked into the office and to her desk. She and Corky traded merry Good Morning's.

Corky grinned at her knowingly. "There's something interesting going on between you two," she sang, raising her brows towards the door where Bumlets had just been.

Polaroid promptly turned a shade of red. "Who, Bumlets and me?" she asked, self-conscious. "We're just… in the same dance class," she assured.

"Mm-hmm—wait, you decided to take the dance class?"

Polaroid nodded, biting her lip in a bid to contain her excitement.

"That's amazing! I'm so glad you decided to go!"

"Me, too," Polaroid said.

Corky held her chin thoughtfully. "And that's how you guys became so close, is it?" She added mischievously, "Was there partnering involved in your dance class?"

"Corky!" Polaroid whispered, trying to urge her friend to lower her voice. "Really, we're just friends!"

"And he just walked you down the hall. I repeat: down the hall."

"He's a considerate guy," said Polaroid, modestly downplaying Corky's observations.

Corky knew there was more to it than Polaroid believed. With time, she reckoned Polaroid would realize her relationship with Bumlets for what it was: a young, blooming love. Corky sighed dreamily.

Dutchy's voice brought her back to reality and reminded her of the thoughts she was having before they got sidetracked. Directing her gaze towards his cubicle again, Corky spotted the top of his perfect and fair hair over the panels. She decided those panels were a terrible tease—if she were to be absolutely honest with herself, Corky wished they were just a little, just slightly, lower so she could at least see his bespectacled blue eyes. She didn't know why it mattered to her whether she could see him from her position. Corky supposed she liked to know when he was in the office so she could ask him questions about work.

"Spill the beans, man. Did you talk to that girl at the bar after I left?" she heard Dutchy asking Pie.

"No," his friend answered sullenly.

Dutchy groaned in disbelief. "You asked me to set you up, I set you up, and you didn't even ask for her favorite color?"

"That's a stupid question. And you're a terrible wingman!" Pie insisted.

"I'm better than Skittery."

"That just goes without saying."

Dutchy shook his head. "I just can't leave you alone with a girl, can I?" he muttered.

Corky held back her laughter. Then, she shook her head as though, like an etch-a-sketch, it would help clear her mind. She was supposed to be working on the spreadsheet, not daydreaming and accidentally eavesdropping on people's conversations. Sitting up and setting her fingers on the keyboard, Corky began to pick up from where she left off.

She didn't make it two lines into the spreadsheet before she found her mind ambling back to his cubicle again. This is ridiculous, Corky thought in regards to her inability to focus today. She had firmly set a deadline for herself and had been doing well staying on track for the past hour and a half. There was Friday to look forward to, she reminded herself. Focus on the spreadsheet.

Spreadsheet.

Spreadshee—

—She had to admit, she was proud to have been able to focus for this long even, considering her awful tendency of getting easily distracted by boring work. And this spreadsheet—if there was ever something that exemplified boring work, it was right here. Maybe it was time for a little break. She deserved it, right?

Yes. Yes, she did deserve it. It was a milestone, having been able to work on this snore-inducing assignment for over an hour! Why shouldn't she bask in the glowing rays of this achievement? Corky leaned back in her seat as she sought something or someone to take her break with. Looking to her right, she saw Polaroid already getting started on her daily tasks. Looking to her left…

She searched for an excuse to go talk to him. After all, it would be awkward for her to walk all the way up to his cubicle just to say "hi" and leave. A reason was essential. Corky racked her brain for a creative and believable excuse and, when she came up with nothing, she started rummaging through her drawers. Ah-ha! Corky thought in triumph, no more paper clips!

With a reason to visit in place, she pushed away from her desk and rose to her feet.

As Corky got up from her seat, she saw Dutchy leap up from his. An ecstatic grin spread on his boyish features, Dutchy's gaze was aimed at the door when he exclaimed, "Beverly!"

Corky's face fell. Her shoulders stiffened and her eyes opened wide in surprise: she recognized the name in an instant. It took a few moments to sink in, but when she was sure that what she heard was, in fact, what she heard, Corky turned—ever so slowly—towards the door.

There, standing just inside the door jambs, was Beverly Simmons.


Two Weeks Before…

Having finished her lunch, Corky strolled back into the Human Resources office precisely at one o'clock. A pile of paperwork was, unfortunately, sitting on her desk and calling her name to be digitally filed into the computer and physically filed into the drawers. Corky plopped down into her seat and, narrowing her eyes, considered the adversary on her desk.

It would take her hours to get through this stack.

She sighed and reluctantly grabbed the first form from the pile. Waking up her sleeping computer monitor, she opened up the program and set her mind to work mode.

But then in strode Dutchy and Pie, returning to the office from their weekly Big Boy's lunch with Executive Editor Kloppman and friends. Dutchy, seemingly reluctant to return to his work, veered from the path to his desk and made a friendly stop at Corky and Polaroid's shared cubicle. Unfortunately, his presence caused Corky's inner timer to snap backwards from "Work Mode" to "Play Mode."

He grinned that boyish grin of his. "Hey, all aboard the Polaroid Express!" he announced like he was a real train conductor, waving his hand with a "come-on-in" flick of the elbow. "Haha, get it?"

Corky could hear Pie smacking his forehead.

Polaroid chuckled politely at Dutchy's newest play on her nickname while Corky actually slapped her knee in the process of giggling. He was so cheesy sometimes. She thought it was adorable.

"Afternoon, Miss Quirky Corky. Hey, try saying that five times fast: QuirkyCorkyQuirkyQuarkyKirky—aw, man."

She cleared her throat to try. "QuirkyCorkyQuirkyQuirky…"

"Not so easy, is it?" he teased. He wrinkled his nose when he saw the stack of paperwork in front of Corky. "I don't envy you," he said, shaking his head. "Another exciting day in HR, right?"

Corky sighed and stared at him over her glasses. "I'm so excited… and I just can't hide it," she recited monotonously.

It was Dutchy's turn to laugh, but he swallowed back the sound when someone from behind him called his attention.

"Excuse me. Hi. I'm looking for, um… Irish Flare? I have an appointment with her this afternoon." A young woman stood outside the door to the office. With wavy chocolate hair and dark eyes under dramatic lashes, she seemed to have cast a spell on the males in the office. Pie Eater had actually stood from his seat. He stared at the new girl with a slackened jaw and hypnotized eyes. Dutchy seemed like he was going to crack up laughing at his friend's face, but then he directed his attention at the girl and followed Pie's lead.

Thankfully, Irish Flare appeared, stepping out of her office. She stopped short when she saw the two boys standing and staring from either side of the room at a single point. She frowned at their lack of professionalism at the moment and approached the young woman with an apologetic look.

"Hi. Beverly, right? I'm Irish Flare. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Oh, hi! No problem at all, it's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," said Irish warmly.

"Nice to meet you," said Dutchy, sticking himself into the exchange. "I go by Dutchy around here."

Sensing Dutchy's initiative and not being one to be outdone, Pie sprang into movement and jumped into the conversation as well. "Hello, my name is Pie Eater," he introduced, shaking her hand heartily. "But everyone calls me Pie."

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Beverly Simmons," the girl greeted with a beaming smile, though there was a hint of confusion in her eyes, which may have had to do with either the sudden attention from the two HR boys or the strange names in the office. "I love your names," she ventured. "They're so cute." Perhaps it was the latter, then.

Dutchy appeared touched, bringing his hand to his heart. "That's so sweet," he said.

"Nicknames are an old tradition we have in this company," Irish explained.

"Oh, I see. How fun!" said Beverly.

"Do you have a nickname, by any chance?" Pie asked.

"Um, no I don't, unfortunately," she replied politely.

"That's all right," Irish cut in before either of the boys could speak. Beverly was here for an interview, and Irish was trying to close off the unexpected conversation so they could move to the conference room and commence the interview as scheduled. "Some people choose to go by their given names," she reassured. "Our meeting is going to be in the—"

"Like who?" Dutchy demanded.

Irish gave him a sharp look. "Like David," she answered.

"Oh, that's right. David's his real name," Dutchy pondered to himself.

"Maybe we should think up a nickname for you!" Pie exclaimed.

Justine was going to be fuming if she found Irish and the others just standing around in the office. Irish tried to be subtle. "That's… an idea. It's up to Beverly to decide, though—later."

"Beverly Simmons, right?" Dutchy began, blatantly ignoring Irish's hint, "Like Beverly Persimmons?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Dutchy actually seemed embarrassed. "Get it? 'Cause… I said, you were sweet before. Sweet like persimmons," he mumbled.

Pie gaped at Dutchy's lame attempt at creating a nickname.

"Okay," Irish rallied, glad that the boys ran out of things to say at last. Facing Beverly, she finally said, "I'll show you to the conference room."

When the two girls left the office, Pie turned to Dutchy. "Beverly Persimmons? Because you're so sweet?" he repeated, dumbfounded.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't think straight!"

"I'm never going to get any girls with you as my wingman," Pie muttered, heading back to his desk.

"Uh, what? How was I the wingman here? She was talking to me."

"I saw her first," Pie countered.

"She asked me for Irish."

"That was a question open to the floor."

The bantering continued for a good ten minutes, died down, then gradually started up again when Irish came back to the office an hour later.

Pie shot up from his seat and leaned over the cubicle wall, addressing Irish as she walked in. "So, is Beverly a potential employee?"

Irish didn't halt her stride as she answered, "Yes."

"Are we hiring her?"

"We don't know yet. There are still two more candidates to interview."

"For which department?"

"Sales."

"I think we should hire her," Dutchy piped in.

"I think we should hire her," said Pie.

Irish glanced in Corky's direction, and with an exasperated look, mouthed, "Boys." To Dutchy and Pie, she pleaded, "Do the office a favor and don't ogle our candidates like wolves next time. It's embarrassing."

"Who was ogling?" Pie asked, oblivious.

"You guys! With your… persimmons!" In a hushed tone, she added, "If Justine saw you two, you know she would have had you written up."

That quickly shut the boys' mouths and, hoping she got through to the pair, Irish disappeared into her office.

"I told you the persimmons thing was stupid," Pie grumbled.


And now Beverly Simmons is back, Corky thought unhappily. Why is she back?

"I heard you're an official employee of Pulitzer Publishing now. Welcome!" Pie announced.

Well, that answered her question.

"Thank you," she said brightly. "I'm so happy to be here!"

"We're so happy to have you with us," Dutchy returned, ignoring Pie's pointed glimpse. "First day jitters?"

And just like the first time, Irish emerged in the nick of time, breaking up the fan-like adoration from the two HR boys. She formally welcomed Beverly to the company and invited the new employee into her office to fill out employment paperwork. Despite their previous quibbling, Pie and Dutchy exchanged overly excited looks.

Corky couldn't understand, really, why she was feeling the way she was. When Beverly Simmons walked into the office the first time, Corky found herself… upset. And now, the second time around, it was the same story. It was odd, especially because she hardly ever became upset with anything or anyone. Even stranger, she found herself trying to distract herself from the happenings in the office by working—usually it was the other way around. Fixing her glasses, she went back to updating the spreadsheet.

She worked for nearly another hour before Irish's door opened, with the Human Resources Assistant and Beverly stepping out of the office.

"… and you should be good to go. I'm going to give the Sales Manager, Toby, a call before we head up to their floor. You remember Toby, right?"

"The one with all the candy on his desk?"

"Right. Oh," Irish added as an afterthought, "I better give IT a ring, too, so he could help you log into the network."

"Leave it to me, Miss Irish Flare!" Dutchy said, bounding from his seat, waving his raised hand as though someone asked for a volunteer. "I'll be a right tour guide and show Beverly to the Lab and to Sales."

Irish paused. "I don't know if that's necessary…"

"Me too!" Pie Eater chirped. "And, as an all-around nice guy, I'll even throw in a tour of the company," he said, pleased with himself for having thought of the idea before Dutchy did.

"That would be nice," Beverly admitted. "I've already gotten lost a couple of times."

"Perfect!" Dutchy gestured Beverly towards the door.

Irish hesitated; she wasn't sure if she wanted to leave Beverly alone with Dutchy and Pie as her hosts. Plus, she realized belatedly, Irish had wanted a reason to call IT. She hadn't seen or heard from Skittery in a while. It was a little silly, she knew, to need to have a reason to call a friend. But, still, something about him, their relationship, had changed, and she couldn't help but treat the matter as delicately and as casually as possible.

"Don't worry about it, I'll keep an eye on him," Dutchy suddenly whispered to Irish, tilting his head in Pie's direction. What was he talking about? Irish wondered, puzzled. She was more worried about him than about Pie.

Before Irish could argue, Pie and Dutchy swept Beverly out of the HR office, with Pie chattering away excitedly, leaving a worried Irish, an anxious Corky, and a neutral Polaroid.


The Lab

"This here is the Lab," Pie introduced when the trio stepped in through the glass doors. Unfortunately, there wasn't much going on in the Lab, being that many of the designers were congregating in meetings that afternoon. Pie led the group to the IT corner on the opposite side of the room. "And this is Skittery, the IT department."

"There's only one person in IT?" Beverly asked Pie.

"Just me and my interns," Skittery answered. "Long story," he said when she was about to ask why. "What do you want?" he asked the two HR boys, wary of another prank.

Dutchy made a face at Skittery's sour mood before introducing Beverly and explaining that she needed an account set up in the Sales department. Skittery wordlessly closed out of Solitaire and obliged, opening up his database program. In the meanwhile, Dutchy and Pie made a circle around the Lab, introducing Beverly to some of their friends.

"These guys here are our summer interns, Mush and Kid Blink, two of the nicest guys you'll ever meet," Pie presented. Then they proceeded to the Web Corner, at which point Mush felt it safe to nudge Blink and, eyeing Beverly Simmons, say, "I'm in heaven."

Before Pie could introduce the Web team, Jack came forward as he eagerly walked out of Weasel's cluttered office. He rolled his eyes as he shut the Weasel's door behind him. "Haven't seen you two up here in a while," he said upon seeing his HR pals. "Who's this?" he asked with a charismatic smile.

"Beverly Simmons," she introduced. "I'm a new Associate in the Sales department."

"Jack Kelly," he said, shaking her hand.

By the way she giggled, it was clear Jack's inexplicable charm had found yet another victim.

"Hey, it's noon—what do you say to going down to the cafeteria and getting some lunch while Skittery there works on creating an account for you?" Pie asked. Skittery sent him a deadpan stare.

Beverly was pleasantly surprised. "There's a cafeteria in the building?"

"Sure is! With decent food, too," added Dutchy.

"That sounds great," she agreed. "Maybe… Jack would like to join us?"

Neither Dutchy nor Jack anticipated that invite. Dutchy frowned while the Web Producer flashed another congenial smile. "Sounds good to me. I'm starving."

Pegasus had watched the conversation closely from her desk. Chewing slowly on her PB&J, she zoned in on Jack and sent him her best, most intimidating, glare.

When Jack saw her staring at him in that strange way, he raised a brow. "What?"

She just shook her head, slowly, from side to side. Not knowing what to make of that response, Jack simply chuckled before grabbing his wallet and leaving the Lab with the trio. Peg put her sandwich down and, signing into her instant message program, began to type a message. She wrote:

ImaPirate20: You better keep your man in check.

Stress answered with:

curiouserx2: My what?

ImaPirate20: Your you-know-who! Yet another lady from Sales just asked him to lunch. And being the way-too-sociable guy he is, he just went, "Teeheehee, okay!"

The hesitation on Stress' part was palpable.

curiouserx2: What can I do about it? I can't just go up to him and tell him not to have lunch with certain girls from Sales.

curiouserx2: Even though I'd like to.

curiouserx2: Is there an undo button on this thing? I can't believe I just typed that.

ImaPirate20: Why not? Go show him who's boss. ;)

ImaPirate20: He's going to the cafeteria downstairs right now.

ImaPirate20: The boys here won't stop talking about how they made Jonathan tap dance. You should go thank him for saving you from that CCLS thing. :)


Cafeteria

Well, Stress actually made it down to the cafeteria. She couldn't help herself; Peg's news had sparked her curiosity.

Jack's outing with other employees was not something new, of course. If the company had a title for Most Popular Employee, without question, it belonged to Jack Kelly. He was friends or on friendly terms with almost everyone in Pulitzer Publishing—with the exception of some people he chose to avoid, like Weasel and Jonathan, for obvious reasons.

The thing was, Jack's popularity made him—as cheesy as it sounds—popular with the ladies, too. And lately, Peg reported an increased spike in the number of girls casually gliding into the Lab to talk to Jack. No doubt this was because of rumors circulating about Jack's new bachelor status. News traveled fast in this company, especially when it had to do with the Most Popular Employee.

Stress usually took her meals in the seventh floor dining room rather than the cafeteria, so when David Jacobs spotted her sitting at a corner table by herself, steadily sipping on her soft drink, he called out her name in surprise.

"Stress! What're you doing down here?" he greeted cheerily.

Startled from her thoughts, Stress almost choked on her drink. "Shh!" she hushed urgently, gesturing at him to keep his head low. Without realizing it, David found himself crouching over as he approached her table and sat down.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking about the cafeteria, figuring, by her reaction, that they were hiding from someone.

Stress dwelled on the question, realizing she almost gave herself away. "Nothing," she answered, laughing nervously. She picked up a french fry and started nibbling on it. "What's new with you?"

"Nothing much. I'm just here to spy on Jack."

"You, too? I mean," Stress amended, trying to de-emphasize her surprise, "you are?"

"Yeah. As a favor to Sarah."

"Oh." She wasn't expecting to hear that either. So Jack and Sarah Jacobs were still seeing each other? Did that mean there was no merit whatsoever to the rumors going around? She tried to craft her next words as casually as possible, but unfortunately, there was no other way to go about it than, "I heard Jack wasn't seeing anyone now."

David sighed. "It's true."

Okay, now Stress was confused.

"He and Sarah didn't really break up, though," he explained. "They're just taking a break, whatever that means. Sarah's been so busy with grad school and Jack's working here. They just rarely see each other anymore."

"Sarah's not back in New York?"

David shook his head. "She took up a summer TA position for one of her former professors in Boston."

"Oh, I see. So there's still hope?" she asked, a little too earnestly. She was thinking there might still be hope for all the Jack fangirls in the company.

"What?"

Stress could have kicked herself. "I meant, so there's still hope that it could still work out between them?"

"I guess. Even though she thinks it's for the best, Sarah's still upset about it. I think that's why she asked me to watch over Jack. She's hoping they can still work it out and wants me to ward off any girl that comes up to him," he said, chuckling. At that moment, David's and Stress' eyes wandered over to the table with Pie Eater, Dutchy, the Sales girl and, the subject of their interests, Jack.

On the other side of the cafeteria, Corky slurped her Mountain Dew nervously, her sights fixed on Beverly Simmons. It wasn't like she planned to be down at the cafeteria at the same time they were—she was sitting here with Polaroid before they walked in.

But she was kind of glad for the coincidence. It gave her a chance to try and sort out her thoughts. What was it about this Beverly Simmons that bothered her so much? She seemed like a nice person: polite, cheery. Corky just couldn't pinpoint what it was about her. No one else seemed to have any problem with Beverly Simmons. Irish Flare and Pie Eater and Dutchy liked her.

Weird, there it was again. That odd feeling.

She saw Dutchy smiling and nudging Pie in the ribs. He was such a nice guy—smart, humorous, friendly. She was so lucky to have bumped into him on the day of her interview. His cheesy nicknaming never failed to make her laugh. And he was always willing to lend a helping hand. Whenever Corky was having trouble with something at work, she knew she could depend on him to come to her aid. Dutchy had so much positive energy and was just a lot of fun to be around.

He said something, then, and it must have been something funny for everyone at their table started laughing. Pie, it seemed, was actually blushing from the comment, his ears turning bright red. Beverly giggled and smacked Dutchy's arm playfully.

Epiphany. Upon watching the scene before her, realization hit Corky fast, and she inhaled so sharply that a high-pitched squeal escaped from her throat.

Polaroid almost dropped her spoon. She looked at Corky with concern. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Corky caught her breath. Despite the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she answered, "Yeah."


Human Resources

Dutchy returned to the HR office later in the afternoon, stretching out his arms and grunting in exhaustion. It had been a long day for him and he barely got any real work done, having been away from his desk for most of the day. He dropped down onto his chair and opened up his e-mail. Seeing the immense number of new messages in his inbox, it was safe to say that it would be an even longer day tomorrow.

Seriously, Pie owed him. Big time.

He scanned his inbox and clicked on Irish's message first: "This Week's Agenda." She had sent out a checklist of things that needed to be completed by Friday. There were a couple of items there that were under his jurisdiction. One of the most tedious tasks, though, he noticed, was assigned to Corky. Dutchy was the one who usually got assigned the spreadsheet, so he knew how tough it was to stay awake working on it. Therefore, he decided to pay the newest HR family member a visit and see how she was doing.

Corky had been working for another hour and a half straight. From what she could tell, she was about three-quarters finished with the spreadsheet. If she stayed a little later, she should be able to complete the assignment today, though she wasn't sure how much longer she wanted to stay in the office in this state. If she wasn't feeling so down, she would have probably been celebrating her work streak feat right now. Corky could tell Polaroid was concerned, as the intern kept sending her worried glances.

Corky stopped typing as her thoughts circled back to what was troubling her. She couldn't believe she didn't understand it sooner. All this time, she believed she liked Dutchy—after all, who wouldn't?—but she hadn't realized that she liked Dutchy. It took Beverly Simmons for Corky to come to terms with a truth that, now that she thought about, should have been very obvious. She had been coming into work early—early! At the crack of dawn! She was always looking for a reason to talk to him. And when she did talk to him, she was jubilant. She even got him a bobblehead for Hush-Hush Halfsies. She loved his nicknames. She loved his smile. She loved his hair.

And she thought Polaroid was in denial!

It was the pang of melancholy, after seeing him and Beverly so happy together at lunch, which opened her eyes to her own feelings. Now she knew why Beverly had bothered her: it wasn't anything about her at all—it was only because Dutchy was interested in her. Corky couldn't believe she could be so silly as to let something like that upset her so much.

She sighed, bringing her hands to her face. She couldn't even bring herself to glance in the direction of Dutchy's cubicle.

She didn't need to. Dutchy appeared at hers.

And when Corky looked up at him, she reluctantly realized that maybe it wasn't so silly, the way she was feeling. She really did like him.

He grimaced. "That bad?"

She blinked, straightening slowly. "What is?" Her voice sounded flat and tired.

"The spreadsheet. It's a pain in the neck, isn't it?"

"Oh. Yeah, it is."

"Well, let me know if you need any help with it. Thanks to Pie and his new girl, I think I'm going to be staying late today."

She almost didn't catch it, but after a second's pause, Corky's brows snapped together. "His girl?"

"Yeah, that new girl in Sales. Beverly Simmons."

A huge "huh?" in neon lights flickered inside her head. "They're… dating?"

"Not yet," he said, rubbing his hands together with a roguish smirk. "But they will be."

"But I thought you and Beverly—" Corky blurted. She stopped herself, shocked that the words had tumbled out of her mouth.

A slow grin formed on his face. He knew what she was thinking. "What makes you think that?"

She kept her lips sealed, not wanting to reveal that she had actually been "sorta spying" on him earlier in the cafeteria.

"Whatever Pie told you, don't believe him." He leaned down and lowered his voice, about to let Corky in on a secret. "Truth is, I'm an awesome wingman." Corky met his eyes, then, with a curious glint. "See, Pie there can't talk to a girl he likes for his life. I set him up perfectly with a girl and leave him alone, and the guy shuts down. No matter how many times me and Specs try, it doesn't work. We tried last night, too. Pfft, nothing. Waste of my wingman talent, I tell you. But, if we made it look like we were interested in the same girl… then, he mans up." Dutchy made a "he's crazy" gesture with his finger circling at his temple. "You don't wanna know how we figured that one out. Specs was pissed that night, is all I can say."

"So… it was… all an act?" Corky was beyond stunned.

He looked smug. "I'm good, what can I say? You know what Pie and Beverly are doing right now? They are downstairs—get this—playing foosball together. I wouldn't be surprised if, in a couple of weeks, he asks her out to a movie or something." Dutchy winked. "It was tricky work. I mean, I even had to take Jack out of the picture by the end of lunch."

Understanding sank in. With it came a lightening of the shoulders and a fluttering feeling that replaced the sinking in her stomach from earlier. Never before had she experienced this type of relief. She really felt silly now, for sitting in her cubicle in misery and embarrassment for the past couple of hours. Corky couldn't think of anything else but that Dutchy was a genius and an amazing friend.

"Do me a favor and help me convince Pie that he's nuts and owes me big time?" said Dutchy.

Corky beamed. "I will."

"Thanks. I'll let you get back to work. Oh, before I forget again," he added, snapping his fingers, "do you have the forms folder from yesterday?"

"Oh, yeah. Right here," she said, reaching into her bottom drawer and pulling out the bulky folder.

As Dutchy reached over to take the file, he caught sight of the calendar sitting on her desk from the corner of his eye. The bright pink marks and glimmering stickers grabbed his attention. He chuckled at Corky's affinity for shiny stickers. Wondering what the occasion was, he looked more closely, and he managed to make out the tiny words marked below the circled date.

"It's your birthday on Friday?" he asked.

Corky was surprised he asked, until she saw him staring at her calendar. "Yup," she replied.

"Cool, you have plans that night?"

"Not much on Friday. I have friends from out of state coming to visit me on Saturday, though."

"Yeah?"

She nodded.

"What would you say if I take you out for a birthday drink Friday night, then?"

Her heart soared.


Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to Corky: Happy belated Birthday! I hope you don't mind the fluffiness – I can't write romance for my life, it seems. ;)

Another round of Snoddy-style high fives go to: Acorn, Eavis, Repeat, Adren, Corky, stress, Ghost1211, Song For A Rainy Day (Hope you don't mind - I borrowed your idea for Polaroid's nickname!) – thank you all so much for your feedback on the last chapter and for sticking around despite the lack of updates!

I'd like to quickly include a plug, if I may: The Newsies "Summer Reading List" Fanfiction Awards – created to recognize Newsies fanfics being written this summer – is open for nominations. Please check out my profile for more information and please go nominate your Summer 2010 favorites!