So you know how Les had a date when we last left this story?
Guess who pulled a Les last night?
Me, it's me.
Anyway...
Review Responses:
Emz: YEAH WE'RE BEING REGULAR! I quite appreciate your appreciation for... 1. An unintentional Heathers reference? I don't know Heathers, so if I referenced it, that's coincidental. 2. Sarah Jacobs holding a grudge is a constant iconic mood. 3. Davey Jacobs is also an iconic mood, yes. 4. Lesally supremacy always 5. Updating until I run out of chapters, woot woot! And finally, Woodside is bae, we stan them.
Huffelpufdraws: Okay okay this is a freaking massive review and as much as I wanna respond to every single word, it would take all day. But thank you so much! And now to discuss a couple main points... I didn't think much of an actual artist's perspective in writing that scene, but getting yours is the highest honor, thank you! It gives me a whole new layer of love for last chapter. And to be less eloquent... EVERYBODY SHOULD HUG CRUTCHIE AND JACK AND COMMUNICATE YEAH! And Davey and Sarah should get some sense. Oh, AND Manhattan's section will be the most chaotic (probably), so good luck! (Specs'll help you out with sanity.)
JustVildaPotter: So basically, oh everyone. It's a good time. LESALLY THOUGH IS ACTUALLY A GOOD TIME! Your brain just doesn't know what to do, does it? Thank you for the compliment! I liked what I did with that line as well! HUZZAH FOR YOUR ATTENTION SPAN MAKING IT!
DylanQuagmir: (Chapter 54) Took you long enough to review, my friend. *sticks out tongue* But thank you! Now shut up about my typos and take the virtual cookie. (Chapter 55) APOLOGY QUITE ACCEPTED BECAUSE YOU'RE THE ONE PERSON WHO GETS MY RENT REFERENCES
citysfinallysleeping: Firstly, thanks for following, favoriting, and all the reviews! And now to the responses... (Chapter 7) YAYYYYYYYYYYYY FOR YOU FINALLY READING THIS (Chapter 8) Jack and Sarah's rivalry is superior and I will not take complaints so I'm glad you love it! (Chapter 9) Yes you should be laughing that hard. (Chapter 10) *hops the back of the train to follow you* (Chapter 11) Les Jacobs, making the world jealous since 1999. (Chapter 12) I vote Franci. (Chapter 13) JACK AND MEDDAAAAAAA (Chapter 14) I've already thanked you for the Kath compliment but thank you again, I love to hear it! (Chapter 15) Lovesick Race *sneaks into Brooklyn wearing a blue hoodie and sunglasses* BOOOOOOOO! (Chapter 16) *braces for impact* (Chapter 17) I APOLOGIZE I ENJOY SADNESS TOO MUCH (Chapter 18) ...See chapter 17's review. And by all means, continue! (Chapter 19) *waves strike sign* (Chapter 20) Davey gets to be less of a meanie, I swear. Please don't punch him. (Chapter 21) Now Pulitzer, you can punch. Or stab. Gently unalive, you know the drill. (Chapter 22) WHOAAAAAAA STRIKE! (Chapter 23) Specs' shoe appreciates the appreciation.
*deep sigh*
I'm betting no one reads this mess, yeah?
Go read, fellas.
Chapter 56- Smalls
Monday, September 20, 1999, 4:00 p.m.
Smalls was done with the strike. She was sure she was. Hence why she was doing her usual work at Jacobi's while the other newsies hung out at three tables in the dining room's center. They were still discussing the rally, kind of, except they kept getting distracted and having to circle back. Smalls had observed this every time she came by to refill someone's water. Each time she returned, one if not more than one person would say, "Alright back to the rally-" then finish that thought with whichever number of times they happened to be on. So far, this exchange had happened no less than twenty times, and that was just in the part of the day Smalls had been present for.
From the eavesdropping that she most certainly hadn't been doing, Smalls had learned that at some point in the day the count of "back to the rally" instances had been forgotten, then restarted. She wondered if her friends had actually accomplished anything in all the time they had been talking. Not that she cared or was interested in the rally they were planning. Because she didn't. And she wasn't. Smalls had decided the strike was over for her, and she was capable of sticking to that, even if all her friends and half her brain were all calling her ridiculous. Nothing would make her budge. Not a thing.
The bell above the restaurant door jingled as said door swung open, and in walked Sarah, Davey, Les, and Jack.
Jack. Jack was back. He was here. Not in jail. Not with the Spider. In Jacobi's. And he looked unhurt.
Smalls didn't process the fact that she was abandoning the customer whose order she'd been ringing up. Nor did she register that she was running across the room, going to hug Jack. At least, she didn't until she was a few feet from him, heard herself yell "Captain!" and ground to a halt to avoid throwing herself into his arms. That had probably looked somewhat awkward, but at least her arms hadn't been flailing around. "You're okay!"
Jack scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. "Yeah... Why wouldn't I be?"
Gee, I don't know. "You- you was missin'. We ain't heard anythin' from ya since the weekend, and with Crutchie gone too, we thought... I thought..." Smalls couldn't string the sentence together, but she didn't need to.
"What, you were worried?"
"'Course I was."
Rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, Jack laughed. "You're ridiculous."
"What?" Smalls' voice came out soft and squeaky as an invisible something lodged itself in her throat.
"Ya actually thought somethin' happened ta me."
"Well- yeah..."
"Really?" He was still laughing. At her. She hadn't done anything remotely funny. And to think that seconds before she had wanted to hug him. No, scratch that, she still sort of wanted to. Goddamn it all, she still cared.
"Captain, I-"
"Dave says ya quit the strike 'cause a' me bein' gone, that true?"
"...Yes."
"So lemme get this straight." The amused smile on Jack's face dissipated into a harsh glare. "Because I was missing, you decided that ya couldn't do anythin', so instead a' leading, ya just... didn't. Left ev'ryone else ta scramble while ya sat there sulkin'."
"That's... yes." Smalls couldn't exactly argue, since that was what she'd done. Still, she didn't appreciate the call-out.
"Right." Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Good ta know I can count on ya." With that sarcastic remark, he turned away from Smalls and greeted Spot, who waved him into the thick of the discussion.
All Smalls could do was stand, cemented to the floor, until she felt tears start to prick her eyes, at which point she backed away toward the rooms off the dining room. She made an effort not to start running until she had passed through the swinging doors, when she sprinted into the pantry and shoved herself into a fully stocked shelf. Everything on it rattled; a couple cans slid off and hit the floor around her. Smalls was too immersed in the screeching noise of frustration she was making to bother picking them up. She stood, pressing her forehead against the closest shelf, willing herself not to cry. Captain Jack wasn't going to bring her to tears, that was a stupid reason to get emotional. And she was only upset because he'd called her on her bullshit. That was just stating facts; it shouldn't have affected her so much. She wasn't about to cry, she wasn't-
"Dammit." Smalls tried rubbing away the tears that had escaped, but those were only replaced by more. "Dammit!" She shook the shelf she was standing in front of, causing more cans and boxes to fall. Once she was through with shaking stuff off, Smalls turned to kicking the bottom of the shelf. "God!" Kick. "Damn!" Kick. "Stupid!" Kick. "Cowboy!" Crash! Still more things fell. "Stupid Cowboy!" she repeated, then stopped.
She was the stupid one. She was the one crying over spilled pantry shelves, while Jack planned out the rally like nothing had happened.
Weak, that's what you are.
Shut up!
You weren't fit to lead the Bronx, and you aren't fit to lead here either. 'Course, that's 'cause ya don't even try.
Stop it! Stop thinking that!
But you know it's true.
SHUT UP! Smalls shook the shelf as hard as she could, like she was a mobster and it was someone who owed her money. Again, she made a half-screech, half-scream noise that tore at her throat and echoed throughout the tiny room.
"Smalls!"
She didn't have to turn around to know the voice was Sniper's. "What do you want?"
"You alright?"
No. Go away. Letting go of the shelf, Smalls faced Sniper. "Fine." But her voice cracked as she made this claim. Further betrayal was surely shown on her face, although Smalls had no means of seeing her reflection.
"Just as fine as Jack is, then." By Sniper's tone, that meant Jack wasn't doing well either, but Smalls didn't see the correlation.
"Please, the captain's doin' jus' great! Back to his usual self!"
"C'mon Smalls. Surely you can see there's somethin' wrong. He neva' just insults people like that."
"Whateva' ya say, traitor."
"Ha! You should talk!" Sniper cleared her throat. "But seriously, something's up wit him."
"Why don'tcha botha' him then?"
"And you. You're upset."
"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Why wouldn't she just leave?
"You wanna talk about it?"
"I want you ta leave me alone."
"Ah. Thought it might be that."
"Be what?"
"You're mad at me, aren't you? You been pissed eva' since Finch an' I- since he kissed me. There was nothin' there, Smalls, I swear."
"Ya don't gotta explain yerself ta me." What did Sniper think they were, dating? Not that Smalls didn't want that, of course she did, but Sniper hadn't given her any indication of wanting that before. Now was not a good time for that to come up.
"Right, of course not." Sniper continued, frowning slightly. "Um, anyway... if that- kiss thing is the reason yer mad at me, I just wanna make sure ya know it was nothin'."
"And what makes ya think I'm mad at you?"
"Well, it's gotta be more than Jack-"
"Did I say I was mad at Jack?"
"Not exactly, but-"
"So that automatically means I gotta have a problem with you, does it?"
"I-"
"Y'know, not everythin' is about you, Sniper!"
"I didn't say-"
"Just 'cause you an' Finchy are fine now don't mean ev'ryone else is! The world don't stop fer you at will!"
Rather than yell over her, like Smalls had anticipated, Sniper kept her voice level. "I heard you an' Albert had a fight earlier."
They had, but how was that relevant? What was up with Sniper trying to get Smalls to work through her problems all of a sudden?
"Al toldja that, did 'e?"
"Told Finchy. I happened ta be there."
"So I assume yer on his side?"
"I ain't on anyone's side." Sniper was being reasonable. That wasn't going to fly with Smalls. Couldn't she just argue back already?
"'Course you ain't. Typical. Ya don't care 'bout anythin' if it ain't yer problem ta make everyone else care about."
"Well, if that's not the biggest load a' crap I eva'-"
"Sniper," Finch's voice cut into his best friend's rant. Smalls, meanwhile, frowned at his arrival. Why did he have to pop up just as shit was starting to go down?
"It's not worth it." Finch told Sniper, "She's jus' throwin' a hissy fit 'cause Jack told 'er facts she didn't wanna hear."
"No one asked you," said Smalls, glaring.
"See," Finch pointed at her. "That right there. Bein' a little diva."
"Oh, I'm a diva, am I?"
"That's what Finch jus' said," Sniper stated.
"And whateva' he says goes, don't it? Gotta listen ta all the instructions of the almighty asshole Patrick Cortes."
Finch noted, "You sound like Race when Jack was givin' 'im a hard time the otha' day."
"Yeah, so?"
"So, this is about Jack, ain't it. I'm right."
"Shut up."
Sniper smiled. "C'mon, Smalls. Two people now 'ave toldja we know what's goin' on. Just talk ta us about it." She glanced at Finch, then added, "At least talk ta me."
"Why should I?"
"I did tell ya you could tell me anythin'. That hasn't changed." Smalls watched Sniper pause and look toward Finch for a moment. He nodded encouragingly, and she returned her gaze to Smalls, clearing her throat. "And actually, there's somethin' I wanna speak wit you about."
"I'm listening."
"Good fer you," said Finch with a false sense of being impressed.
"Don't you 'ave somewhere ta be?"
"Yeah. Here. Backin' up Snipes."
"What's she need backup for?"
"If you would shut up, I'd tell you." Sniper sounded irritated. The other two turned their attention to her, but the second they did it seemed she had nothing more to say.
Smalls prompted, "So..."
"Right, uh... thing is, Smalls, Finchy an' I talked, and um... you like me, right?"
In the history of stupid questions, there was nothing that topped this one. "Of course I do!"
Relief illuminated Sniper's face. Wow. She really had been unsure. "Oh, good. Then since that's cleared up-"
"I mean, how couldja think I don't like you? Have ya met me?"
"Ri-ight!" Sniper's laugh shook the word. "Yeah, so 'bout that-"
"I been pinin' fer ya since I was fourteen, how couldja not see that? An' there's been plenty a' signals, I thought I was pretty clear-"
"Yes, yes, perfectly clear!"
"But then again, I also thought you felt the same, an' that was wrong, so I neva' think right, do I?"
"No, you-"
"God, how stupid am I? Even if you seem to have feelings I think ya do, it's wrong!"
"No-"
"Well, y'know what? I'm sorry I eva' cared fer you, 'cause clearly ya never cared for me!" Smalls wasn't talking to Sniper anymore. She barely heard the other girl's stammers.
"What? That's not-"
"But it ain't entirely my idiot mistake, you said things too! And you always acted like- Shit, you sent so many goddamn signals, what didja expect me ta think?"
"What're ya talkin' about?" Finch cut in, but Smalls didn't answer him.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to send any signals," Sniper apologized. Her words were rushed, probably in an attempt to beat Smalls' next tirade. "Or... or maybe- maybe I did. I dunno, that ain't the point! What I'm tryin' ta say is-"
"Just don't say shit ya don't mean, that's all I'm sayin'!" ranted Smalls. "Don't lead people on, it ain't fair ta anyone!"
"I didn't mean to do that, I- Smalls, if you'd just listen I'd figure out how ta explain-"
"But y'know, I get it, you's older, ya got your life more figured out than mine! And tha's great! Good fer you! Jus' gimme some damn warnin' if yer gonna suddenly change yer mind about everythin'!"
"Smalls, shut the hell up!" Finch ordered, jolting her back to the present.
Sniper was still struggling. "I'm sorry, I just had to figure some things out! An' believe me, my life really ain't put together, I dunno what you mean by-"
"Figure what things out? What're you talkin' about?"
Finch asked, "What're you talking about? Yer the one yellin' at Snipes!"
"Well she can't think enough ta say whateva' she's tryin' to!"
"You ain't helpin' by drownin' her out!"
"Both of you shut it and let me speak!" Sniper shouted over the two of them.
"Then talk!" Smalls told her, "I ain't gonna stop ya, say what ya wanna say."
"I'm trying!" she insisted, "It's just hard to-"
Finch urged, "Snipes, you jus' gotta say it an' get it over with."
"Whaddaya think I'm tryin' ta do?"
Smalls put in, "Beats me, you can't get a sentence togetha'."
"Be quiet, Smalls!" Finch yelled again, then lowered his voice to speak to his best friend. "Sniper, just tell her already."
"I..." she hesitated, glancing at Smalls, who was waiting for the next opportunity to snap. "I can't."
"Yes you can. C'mon."
Sniper nodded, took a quick breath, then blurted, "I like you, Smalls. Really like you. Might even love you, but that's a whole otha' thing, so just... the first part, where I said I like you, that's- that's what we're focusin' on."
Smalls stared at her. Sniper actually... this was real. This was what Smalls had been wanting for close to a year now. Why, then, did she not feel elated at the news?
"Please say somethin'. Don't go silent on me now."
"You... like me."
"Yes."
"Think you might love me."
Sniper shrugged. "Possibly."
"Right. Okay." It didn't feel like a dream come true at all. "An' you's tellin' me this now?"
"It took me a while ta be sure. I was thinkin' about it fer a long time before, but kinda doubted it until the whole thing wit Finchy happened... anyway, I'm sure now."
"Are you?"
"Yeah... pretty sure."
"Huh." After all this time, as long as she'd been waiting, Smalls should have been delighted, not angry. "Y'know, I would a' killed ta know that earlier."
Finch wanted to know, "What's so different 'bout knowin' it now?"
What was the difference? "Do ya know how long I been waitin' for someone ta care about me like that? My foster parents, they don't care. The friends I used ta have in the Bronx, nothin'. I thought I had Jack, but it turns out, nope."
Sniper exchanged a confused look with Finch. "Alright..."
"An' then, just as I lose 'im, you show up, sayin' ya care. After weeks, months of nothin', here you are, fin'ly realizin' what the rest of us 'ave been thinkin' for ages. Yeah, it wasn't necessarily fair for any of us ta assume that, but considerin' we were right all along..."
"What's yer point?"
"My point is, Sniper," Smalls marched up to her, attempted to make herself look taller than she was. Staring up at Sniper, she crossed her arms. "You're ridiculous. This whole thing, it's ridiculous."
"What?"
"You can't care about me. Not the way you want to. Yer father would neva' allow it."
"That ain't relevant. I meant what I said, and I do like you that way."
"Yeah, okay. Pardon me if I don't believe a traitor."
Smalls watched Sniper set her jaw, before snapping, "Y'know, I don't see why you an' Finchy don't get along. Ya can't seem ta let go a' the same things."
"Hey..." Finch's whine was barely audible.
Crossing her arms, Smalls said, "I don't see why you don't let him go."
"I'm sorry?"
"He kissed ya just 'cause he wanted ta, outta nowhere. Didn't even talk about it first, like he was entitled to it or some shit! And ya kept 'im as yer friend. That don't add up."
"He made a mistake, I forgave 'im after he apologized, what more do ya need fer the equation?"
"Finchy was an asshole ta you an' you just let it slide!"
"Well ya see, I, unlike you, don't hold grudges 'til the end of eternity."
"No. You don't stand up fer yourself, an' I'm tired a' seein' it. Everyone pushes you around an' ya let 'em get away with it! Finch, the Delanceys, yer fatha'-"
"Hey!" Finch cut in, "her father don't need ta be brought inta this."
"No," Sniper disagreed, "please go on, Smalls. Tell me how weak I am fer not standin' up to my father. I'm listenin'."
I'm the weak one, not you. "All I'm gettin' at," Smalls clarified, "is ya hardly care about yerself. I can't expect you ta care for anyone else."
"What's that make Finch, then? Is he no one?"
"To me, yeah."
"Alright, well, to me he's one a' the most important people in the world, an' if that ain't somethin' yer able to accept... then maybe I don't like you as much as I thought."
"Oh, so you base all your romantic partners on their compatibility wit Finchy? Sounds like a top notch system. Best of luck ta you."
Sniper groaned. "He's my best friend, and that ain't changin'. But as I said, I like you, an' that ain't changin' either. It's just facts."
Finch concurred, "That's the deal. Take it or leave it, Smalls."
Smalls gave a little shrug. She eyed Sniper, who was looking back with curiosity in her eyes, seeming to wonder which option of Finch's challenge Smalls was going to take. After a moment, she answered, "Guess I'm leavin'," and before Sniper could try to stop her, she was out of the pantry.
Smalls was gone.
TAKE ME BABYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
OR LEAVE MEEEEEEEEEEEE
(Yes this song is suitable to play in the background while reading this chapter, go do it.)
Review please, and I'll see you next time!