Author's Note: New chapter! Ya know, I think I look forward to updating as much as y'all do because I get to hear feedback on the chapters I so enjoyed writing! :) A million thanks to those who reviewed my last chapter: mysterygirl, Ealasaid Una, Austra, LC, and Mayarin. Your reviews make each chapter worth writing. :D

Chapter 21- Will it Hurt?

Al woke the next morning with a headache and a numb right arm. She pushed herself up with her left and waited until the feeling returned to it before she woke her brother. Her stomach gurgled from hunger and made her feel nauseous. She gagged once before biting her lip. There was no need to lose what precious little remained within her.

Jack stirred in response to her prodding and muttered incoherently.

"Would ya move your lousy rear?" She shoved him harder and he finally sat up with owlish eyes.

"What?"

"It's time to get movin'." She rolled her eyes and stood, wiping off the dirt from her clothes.

When Jack was finally cooperative, the two made their way over to the Lodge. Al sat on the stoop while she waited for her brother inside, until Kloppman finally came out and practically dragged her in.

When she looked at him as if he were crazy, he only smiled down at her sweetly.

"Just because I can't let you sleep here, doesn't mean I don't wanna see you 'round. You're welcome in the Lodge any time during the day," he explained. "I'm not mad at ya."

The admission came as a relief to the girl. She didn't want him to be upset with her for deceiving him, though she wouldn't have blamed him if he had been. She could have cost him the Lodge if she had been discovered by someone worth something in this town. Without thinking, she wrapped her arm around the man's middle and he returned the hug with a warm smile.

"You're always welcome around here, lass."

The rest of the day and the one following went much like the one before- with little resistance and much picketing. Harlem was having trouble with their boys defecting, but the boroughs were all progressing nicely as it was.

The day for the rally finally arrived and Al found herself bouncing on the balls of her feet any time she was found standing still. By the time she reached Sarah's house, she was a bundle of energy. David, Sarah, and even Racetrack had teamed up to convince Jack to let Al dress like a girl for the night. He hadn't been too keen on it, but the three and his sister finally showed him that it would be fine. Most of the newsies would be well aware of the fact that she was a girl now and the worst that could come of it was her having more trouble reining in the boys when she spoke. She argued that she had soaked enough of them that they would listen anyway.

He had finally acquiesced and now stood on the other side of her from David. Jack needed to borrow some sort of suit jacket so he looked more presentable, but David had a brown suit he intended to wear.

"Now don't pretty 'er up too much," Jack told Sarah as they entered the room she, David, and Les shared. He winked and she turned away, fighting a blush. "I don't wanna have to fight off boys from the both o' ya."

"Shaddup, Jack." Al rolled her eyes.

"Yes, well it's good we'll have David there too, then." Sarah poked Jack in the shoulder. "If you're not up to the challenge. . ."

"Hey!" Jack cried indignantly. "I am too-"

"Quit flirting, already!" David groaned. "Come on, Jack. Let's go see if Papa has any clothes you can borrow."

The two were gone a few minutes later, leaving the two girls alone in the bedroom.

"So what are you wearin'?" Al hedged after a few moments of silence. Sarah stirred and turned to her.

"I haven't decided yet," the older girl admitted. "I was thinking about my white and blue dress, though, and there's a hat to match." She pulled the offending articles of clothing from the closet David had just been perusing and laid them out on her bed. "What would you like to wear?"

Al blanched. "I don't know. I don't know much 'bout bein' girly."

"Oh, well, what about this?" She pulled out a pale blue dress with at least three layers of ruffles at the bottom and large puffy sleeves. Ruffles rimmed the collar to match the hem. Al cringed visibly. "Or not." Sarah laughed, shoving it back in her closet.

"Maybe somethin' a little less girly," Al suggested. "An' with less ruffles." she added. She still wanted to be taken seriously at the rally, even if she wasn't dressed like a boy. That did not work with ruffles and she doubted she would enjoy the sensation of her neck being attacked by cloth all night.

After a bit of deliberation, the two came to rest on a dark tan, high-waisted skirt and a flowy white shirt. It was a favorite outfit of Sarah's and fit Al relatively well, even if the skirt was a little longer on the shorter girl. Al decided to keep her own dark leather shoes, though. Sarah's feet were at least a size and a half larger than her own.

"Now for hair," Sarah continued. "I was planning to curl mine. Would you like me to do the same with yours?"

"Will it hurt?" she asked, eyeing the iron on the small fireplace in the corner. She didn't like the idea of anything that had to be heated on coals (especially in the middle of summer) touching her head.

Sarah laughed. "No, it won't touch your head, just your hair."

"I s'pose if you're careful," Al answered, a little uncertain. "Will it look alright?"

"Oh, it'll look lovely." Sarah responded reassuringly. "Here, let me brush your hair."

Al shrugged and moved to the little vanity seat in front of David's older sister. Sarah pulled the younger girl's hair out of her cap and out of the little bun it had been in previously. Al closed her eyes in pleasure as Sarah pulled the brush through her hair, gently easing it through.

"Who cuts your hair usually?" she asked after a moment.

"Jack," Al answered, not bothering to open her eyes and just enjoying the feel of the brush in her hair. "Why?"

"Just wondering," Sarah answered. "It's a little uneven. Let me do it next time, alright?"

"Sure thing," Al smiled.

"So what's it like living in the Lodging House?" Sarah asked after a moment, reaching for the curling iron near the small fireplace. Al wished her friend didn't feel the need to curl either of their hair. It was already hot enough without the fireplace. At least the window was open, though.

"I don't live there anymore," Al answered honestly. "Kloppman found out I was a goil an' I got kicked out. He lets me come in the mornin', though, an' get dressed and washed."

Sarah opened her mouth to ask another question, then shut her mouth. Her face told Al that her mind was still working over the facts, though. Finally, she spoke. "Well, what wasit like?"

"Smelly," Al answered without having to think about it. Sarah burst out laughing, making Al fear for her life, seeing as the curling iron was an inch from her face. "It was fun, though. Most o' them is like me bruddahs now."

"I can't imagine having more than two brothers." Sarah shook her head, smile shining anyway.

"They can be a handful, but I love 'em," Al said.

"Good," Sarah answered. About two finished curls later, she pressed her lips together and gave Al a knowing look. "Did you ever get a crush on any of them?"

Al burst out laughing this time.

"Yeah, when I was a kid, I was real sweet on Skittery." She chuckled at the memory. "'Course, he didn't know I was a goil then. I got over it aftah a while. 'e wasn't my type, ya know? In fact, none o' those boys are. Like I said, they's like my bruddahs now."

"What about David?" Al watched Sarah bite her lower lip in the mirror as she asked, trying to suppress a smile.

"What about David?" Al asked.

"Is he your type?"

"Is Jack your type?" Al countered and Sarah blushed. "Don't worry, you're his," she shared, enjoying the bashfulness of the older girl.

The conversation lapsed as Sarah continued using the curling iron on the younger girl. Al became less and less terrified that her head was going to burn and more occupied with looping the ringlets around her finger. Sarah chastised her more than a few times, until Al decided to sit on her hands for the remainder of the time her hair was being done.

"What about when that time of month comes?"

"What?" Al jumped and the motion caused the iron to burn her ear. She jerked away and held a hand over the burnt patch of skin, scowling at the fact that the iron had bested her. "What are you talkin' 'bout?"

"I mean, what did you do when that time of month came around and you were living with the boys?"

"Oh," Al shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Well, I use rags like everyone else does. Jack helped me conceal it from the othah boys an' stuff."

Sarah's nose crinkled, "How?"

"He'd make up excuses about why I was in the bathroom so long an' stuff," she shrugged. "Medda was an even biggah help, though. I thought I was dyin' when it started. If it hadn't been for her, I woulda panicked."

Sarah laughed this time, fully amused at the prospect. "I'm sure that must have been terrifying."

"It was," Al smiled, but shuddered at the awkward memory. "What about you? What happened when you started?"

"Momma had already explained everything to me, so I was prepared. But David wasn't." At Al's confused look, she continued. "He found me washing the blood out of my nightgown a few years ago and thought I'd been stabbed or something. He interrogated me until I explained everything the him." She laughed again, loudly. "I've never seen him turn so red."

Al laughed with her. The mental image was just too much.

"There you go." Sarah finally finished the last curl. she pulled two back from the front of the girl's face and pinned them at the back of her head, so she wouldn't have to worry about getting hair in her face. For a girl who usually kept her hair up, she was appropriately intolerant of hair getting in her eyes.

Sarah had also had to fix the 'bangs' Jack had given her a while back so it didn't look like she was just a girl with tucked up hair. He had cut random whisps near the front of her face to hang above her eyebrows. Sarah had tried her best to make it look nice, clucking almost inaudibly as she cut more hair and finally made them swoop off to the side together. She didn't curl the shorter strands, leaving them to hang loosely.

The two continued to talk while Sarah reheated the iron and began putting powder on her face while they waited. Al watched with interest, never having put on makeup before. Well, not unless you counted the dirt she wore to make appearance more masculine.

She had watched Medda put on makeup more than a few times, but had always declined the woman's offers of a makeover. Not only did it look too flamboyant, but it looked almost painful. Sarah didn't go overboard with hers, though. She used powder, rouge, a light lipstick, and some sort of black stuff that darkened her lashes. When she was done with herself, she waved Al over. The younger girl hesitated.

"Come on, I won't poke your bruises or anything." Sarah rolled her eyes fondly.

Al huffed a sigh, causing a few of her bangs to puff up and drop back onto her forehead. She joined her friend at the vanity and Sarah immediately began powdering her face. The crinkling of Al's nose at the action only made the older girl laugh.

"Your bruises'll probably show through, but not as badly as before," Sarah said, taking extra time on Al's nearly healed shiners. "They're not as dark as they were a few days ago, so they won't be too noticeable."

Al didn't answer, too afraid she'd mess up her friend and get a jab to the eye or something.

"Where did you learn to fight anyway?" Sarah asked after a few moments of silence. She set down the powder and reached for the rouge. Al felt like it was safe to speak, so she answered.

"Get beat up a couple o' times an' ya loin to fight back," she answered, keeping her face still as Sarah patted her cheeks. "The boys gave me some pointahs an' I loined from experience."

"So you've been in quite a few fights?"

"More'n I can count," Al laughed.

"That's scary."

"That's life."

Sarah's lips pressed together in a thin line while she worked. "Open your eyes wide."

Al did as she was told and flinched when she saw the small brush coming towards her eye, but forced herself to let Sarah work.

"Well, what are a few pointers you have for me?" Sarah asked when she was finished with her eyes. She stood to retrieve the curling iron and Al moved to sit on David and Les's bed so she could watch Sarah do her own hair. "You said you would teach me to fight."

"I remembah," Al smiled. "Well, show me what a good punchin' fist looks like."

Sarah's tongue stuck out with concentration as she held the curling iron with one hand and lifted a fist for Al to see.

"That's ya foist problem. Ya thumb goes on the outside of your fist. If it's on the inside, you'll break it or sommat." She remembered seeing Boots's swollen thumb after he had made that very same mistake. It hadn't been a pretty sight. "Put it ovah your fingahs, like this."

"Okay," she modelled her hand correctly and Al smiled, nodding with reassurance. When she pulled the iron out of her hair, Al continued.

"Now, show me a good punch."

Sarah swung her fist around, twisting her wrist sideways in a way that would likely catch the offender in the cheek.

"Second problem," Al instructed as Sarah twisted another lock of hair onto the curling iron. "Is that you're swingin' from the side. You're gonna do more damage to yourself than to ya opponent. You catch 'im like that an' you'll likely break those last two knuckles of yours."

Sarah cringed at the idea. "So what do I do instead?"

"You gotta hit 'im straight on. The powah's gotta come from ya chest an' all your knuckles needa make contact. That way, it evens out the punch." She punched her own palm, demonstrating how every knuckle made contact when she did.

Sarah nodded slowly. "Makes sense."

"That's why it woiks." Al grinned smugly.

"Ya know, you look like your brothah when you smile like that." Sarah pointed out with a broad grin of her own.

Al's smile grew. "Well don't ya start fancyin' me too."

"I don't think you need to worry about that."