****When Davey tries to ask out Sketch (Davey is aged 17, Sketch, 16) Here… I… WRITE!
Sketch's POV
I'se stir me lump oatmeal, an sigh, addin a small bit more sugar. I'se 'ave always liked things a lil' on da sweeta side, 'specially da norm'ly bland oatmeal da landylady cooks up in a huge pot early in da morning. I'se yawn, an rub da sleep outta me eyes. Sighin, I'se take a bite, an cringe. Da oatmeal still nasty, but its still food. I'se quickly begin ta shovel it in, an try not ta think 'bout da taste. Jus as I'se is putting in da last bite Davey comes up 'hind me's, puttin 'is 'ands ova me eyes. "Guess who," he whispas. I'se quickly swallow da mush an "guess". "Davey?" I'se say, in mocking guess voice. "How'd you'se know?!" He cries, takin 'is 'ands off me eyes, jumpin ova da table, an sittin down in front o' me's. "Cause I'se jus can by da way ya 'ands feel. Rough, an still somewhat soft, only on da back o' ya 'ands." He grins. "You'se is jus getting better at that game everytime we'se play it." I'se smirk, an scrape da rest o' da oatmeal up in me spoon, stickin it in me mouth, an makin a face at da texture. He colas faintly, an smiles, glancing up at me's, an then lookin back down 'gain. "So uh Sketch," he says, a bit quietly lookin me's in da eyes, almost 'ypnotic. "I'se was.. I'se was wonderin if you'se w-w-was uhm w-wantin t-t-a u-u-m go out w-w-ith m-m-m-e's on a erm, an o-o-outin this e-evening. Like jus you'se an me's, tad a café maybe d-da park or somethin" "Davey I'se-" before I'se could finish Race walks ova, a evil grin spreadin ova 'is face. "Sounds like Davey da baby is back, an this time tryin ta ask out 'is best friend, who jus 'appens ta be a goil." Davey turns a bit red in da face, an clenches 'is fists tightly, causin 'is knuckles ta turn white. Me anga flares up, remeberin 'ow awful 'most all o' da bois treated Davey when we'se were younga, an leave it ta Race ta be's da foist one ta call 'im out on it when it 'ccurs 'gain. He only does this when he's nervous, an 'pparently, I'se made 'im nervois. "I'se don't see you'se getting dates Race, prob'ly 'cause you'se is too troll-ish, an rude ta everyboday so no goil in 'er right mind would go out with you'se," I'se say standin up, an grabbin me glass o' wata. Race begins ta 'tort but its too late. I'se fling all o' da wata in me glass on 'is face, an stomp off bowl in 'and, an with Davey trailin 'hind me's. I'se 'and da bowl an cup ta da landlady an thank 'er fa da lovely oatmeal. She smiles, an Davey an I'se set out ta sell, Davey still shocked at what I'se did ta Race. I'se look ova at 'im an smile so I'se don't scare 'im. I'se gotta answa 'is question still, an I'se 'ave da poifect answa.
Davey's POV
Sketch looks at me an slows downs 'er pace. She smiles, an takes me 'ands in 'er own, stoppin, an sighs. She looks me's in da eyes. "You'se wanna know me answa?" I'se nod quickly, me 'eart racin, a bead o' sweat formin at da nape o' me neck, giddy fad a answa. "Yes." She says, an smiles, kissin me check, "I'se 'ave waited a long time fa that question from you'se since we'se told eachotha we'se liked eachotha in da street a few months 'go. An me prayas 'ave finally been answa'd." I'se smile, plantin a kiss on 'er fore'ead, an bringin 'er inta a bear 'ug. "Davey," she says as best she can from bein pressed inta me chest, "we'se gotta go get our papes 'fore da 'tribution centa gets too crowded, an our spot taken." I'se let go o' 'er, an nod. We'se pick up our pace now, an reach there in no time, getting in line, an beginnin ta discuss da details. "'ow's six woik fa you'se?" I'se ask, movin up a space as otha newsies get their papes. "Six is good," she says, fixin 'er ribbon, an lookin up at me's an smilin, "'member I'se is a 'opeless 'mantic." I'se smile, an take 'er 'and, an squeezing it. "Ye," I'se say, "so am I'se." She smiles, an we'se finally get our papes, each o' us giddy fa what was ta come lata, 'ardly focusin on da now, an concentratin on da lata. I'se can't wait though, 'spite me growin nervousness, I'se is really 'cited ta go on a real date with dag oil o' me dreams. Now ta sweep 'er off 'er feet….
