"Go! Go! C'mon Peanut! Go!" the girl screamed, holding tightly to the railing in front of her as the horses approached the finish line. The crowd roared with excitement, and her adrenaline was rushing. At the last moment, the leading horse lost to another horse. Cries of joy permeated the air, running parallel to the groans of disappointment. Unfortunately for the petite teenager at the railing, she had bet just about the entirety of her money on the horse that had lost the lead. She sighed unhappily, letting her ticket flutter to the ground to join the many others that already littered the dusty ground. She turned around to lean her back against the railing, watching the eclectic reactions of the people all around her.
The boy had not bet in this last race. He sat in the front row of the seats a couple of yards from the railing. He was a newsboy, and therefore had little extra money, so he thought it would be good to save some money to provide him nourishment that evening. It was a rare sensible act on his part. His sometimes uncontrollable and passionate love for gambling brought him to the racetrack often during the spring and summer months. It provided a welcome escape from the harried life of a Newsie.
He sat on the bench, amusedly watching the reactions of those around him. It had been a particularly exciting race, but he was still glad he had not bet, for the horses with the better odds had lagged behind the entire time. He vaguely wondered how he looked when he heard the results of a race on which he had bet. As his eyes passed over the crowd, one person caught his attention, for several reasons. One, she was female. The great majority of the people he saw there were men. Two, she was young, probably around his age. Three, she had been cheering loudly for a horse whose odds had been horrible- 15 to 1. The boy sat there studying her when she slowly released her ticket in defeat and turned around. He could tell that she had lost, and his heart went out to her; he certainly knew exactly what that felt like.
She seemed to be of lower class, like him. Her clothes were worn and rather dusty, like his. She was very short. Her hair could only be described as golden; it had everything from shiny blonde to light brown incorporated in it. It shone brightly in the sun and was pulled back in a loose bun. The warm breeze blew loose pieces around her face. Her cheeks were rosy from excitement. Her bright green eyes were big and round and seemed to take in everything. He thought she was beautiful, but he was intrigued by her, too. He could tell that there was something special inside her that he immediately wanted to uncover.
The girl was scanning the crowd aimlessly when her eyes fell on a young man in the front row of the stands. She immediately thought he was very handsome. He was obviously Italian; his wavy dark brown hair and intriguing dark brown eyes gave him away. She judged him to be of the working class by his attire. He wore dark plaid pants topped by a slightly dingy, worn white shirt and a plaid vest. His shirt was rolled up to his elbows, and his face and arms were tan from many days in the sun.
At that moment, their eyes met. It threw them both for a loop, but each boldly returned the gaze of the other. She saw a great tenderness and compassion in his eyes. She could tell he had suffered throughout his life and all she wanted to do was comfort him. They remained standing there, paralyzed under each other's gaze for seconds which turned into minutes.
Suddenly, the girl was knocked to the ground violently, bringing the two back to reality abruptly. She had been hit square in the eye by a stray punch; the two men next to her were violently fighting over the winning ticket, paying no attention to what, or who, was around them. She fell to the ground hard, but she had enough sense to scramble away from the fighters. The boy jumped up and flew to her side quicker than he had ever moved before.
He tenderly helped her sit up, carefully brushing the dust off of her face. She smiled gratefully.
"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.
"Yeah, I think s-so," she said quietly, her eyes wide. "But I'll have a nice shiner tomorrow," she added, grinning as she lifted her hand and touched her eye gingerly.
The boy chuckled. "You've got that right." He stood up and held out his hands to help her stand up as well. She took them gratefully. She was surprised and a little confused by the electric shocks that were sent up her arms at his touch.
"Thank you for helping me," she said, taking her hands back and brushing the dirt off of her clothes.
"Any time," he replied honestly.
She stopped and sat down on a bench away from the action of the races, gesturing for him to join her. He sat next to her. "By the way, my name's Racetrack. It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, taking her hand and kissing it gently.
Yet again, she felt a spark at his touch. She flushed slightly. After a pause, she returned questioningly, "Racetrack? That's an interesting name, given the establishment you appear to enjoy so much."
He smirked. "Well, that's what my friends call me, 'cause I like it heyah so much. My real name is Mario Higgins, but it reminds me too much of my past, which I'd really prefer to forget," he finished quietly, turning his eyes to the ground.
The girl beside him smiled softly. She placed her hand on his arm. He glanced up to meet her gaze. "I know how you feel. I'd rather not dwell on my past either. My name is Julianna. Julianna Hayes," she said, smiling shyly.
He smiled back. He then glanced up at the darkening sky. "Hey, Julianna, it's getting kinda late. Can I walk you home?" he asked boldly.
Her grin faded abruptly. "Um, I'd love that-"
"Great. Let's go," he interrupted, taking her hand and standing up.
"No, Racetrack. There's a problem." He sat back down but kept a hold on her hand. "Um. . . see, I . . . well, I ran away. . . and I haven't . . . um. . . I don't have anywhere . . . to go . . . And I just lost almost all of my money . . . all I have left is 50 cents." She sighed, looking sadly into Racetrack's brown eyes, which were full of understanding.
He squeezed her hand to comfort her. "I'll help you. You have enough money for dinner and a night or two at the Lodging House-"
"Lodging House?"
"Yeah, the Newsboys' Lodging House."
"You're a Newsie?"
"Yeah. Got a problem with dat?" He grinned.
She smirked. "Nope, I think it's neat, actually."
"Good. Anyway, Kloppman owns da joint, and he's like our grandfather. I'm sure he'll let you stay. I'm pretty sure we have an extra bunk you could use."
"Are you sure I won't be in the way?" Julianna asked uncertainly.
"Positive. We Newsies are all runaways or orphans. The guys'll understand, and you don't have to tell anyone about your past if you don't want to," he reassured her.
She studied his face intently. She knew right away that he was being sincere; his eyes gave him away. "Then lead the way, my friend," she said, smiling.
**************
Racetrack took Julianna by the Lodging House to meet Kloppman, who was pleased to have her there. He liked her immediately and though she would be a great influence on the Newsies. Racetrack then took her to Tibby's, a local Manhattan restaurant the Newsies frequented, for dinner. To his surprise, the others weren't there; he assumed they had eaten early to make the evening show at Medda's. She was an up-and-coming vaudeville performer who got along very well with the Newsies and frequently let them in without paying. Most of the Newsies were nursing slight crushes on the singer.
After they ordered, Julianna grew slightly serious, an change from the joking personality that Racetrack had grown to enjoy greatly.
"Racetrack, you said before that the Newsies were all orphans or runaways, right?" she asked slowly.
Racetrack's eyebrows wrinkled with his confusion. "Yeah, why?"
"Did you run away, too?" Her green eyes searched his brown ones.
He sighed. "No, I didn't have that luxury. My mom died right after having me, and my dad only lived until I was two. I don't remember him at all," he said quietly.
Her expression softened. "I'm sorry, Racetrack," she said. "I'm sorry I brought it up," she added quietly, looking down at her hands in embarrassment.
He reached out and tilted her chin up so she was looking into his eyes. "No, it's okay, really. It's good to talk about it. It makes me feel better. Besides, it's not like I talk about it often, living with 30 guys." He smiled.
She smiled back. "Oh. Okay."
"You know, it would probably help you to talk about it, too," he suggested slowly.
"You're probably right."
"Probably?! Of course I'm right!" he smirked.
Julianna laughed. Her grin faded as she remembered why she had left in the first place. "Before I start, you have to do one thing for me."
"Sure, anything, Julie."
Julianna smiled at his nickname for her. But her grin became faint as she spoke. "You have to promise not to hate me after I tell you this," she stated abruptly.
"Okay. I promise. But that would be a pretty tough task," he said honestly.
She smiled weakly. "Okay. Thank you. Here goes nothing. My father died when I was a baby. He left my mom nothing. Everything he owned (which happened to be quite a lot of money and property and the such) he left to his brothers, my uncles. About a year later, my mom remarried; my stepfather was rich, just like my father had been. He brought to the marriage two girls older than me. They were perfect little girls; always proper and whatever. My mom resented me because I reminded her of my father, who left her with nothing. She got my stepfather to hate me, too. Therefore, I was treated like a second class citizen. They all ignored me most of the time, and yelled at me when they were paying attention to me. The servants wouldn't talk to me either because I wasn't of the same class as them; they resented me for having money-"
"You had servants?" Racetrack asked in disbelief.
"Um. . . yeah."
"Oh. Wow."
"Well, they thought I was like my family, rich and snobby and stuck up. I can't stand that kind of person! Anyway, I was never allowed at any of the balls or dinners. Not like I wanted to go, but it still hurt that they shunned me. My stepsisters treated me like garbage just because I wasn't as beautiful as they are-"
Racetrack interrupted. "But you're beautiful, Julie!" he said quickly.
Julianna blushed brightly. "Thank you. But they made me feel like a mouse compared to them. They are tall and thin and elegant and all of that stuff. Perfect upper class 'ladies.' Anyway, when I turned 17, my stepfather decided that I was too much of a nuisance around the house, and therefore resolved to have me married as soon as possible. They all of a sudden started paying lots of attention to me to get me ready for suitors to come. They pretended to care all of a sudden, but I knew right away that they were just happy at the chance of getting rid of me. So one day, I told my stepfather that I wasn't getting married to someone I didn't love. He hit me and told me to shut up."
"He hit you?! I'll soak that bum myself!" Racetrack interjected angrily.
"Yeah, he hit me, hard. But I don't want you to soak him. I don't want to go anywhere near New Jersey ever again," Julianna said bitterly.
"How did you get away? It must have been hard with so many people around you all da time," Racetrack observed.
"It was hard. The night after he hit me, I couldn't sleep. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I knew it had to be soon. Well, the only thing I could think of was to run away. So I packed all the money I could find in my room and some of my clothes and snuck out the window of my room. When I jumped down, I made quite a bit of noise, waking my mother, I think. But I ran quietly away and it was very dark, so she didn't see me. So I just kept running until I got to the nearest town with a train station. I hopped the first train, and figured I would just end up wherever it stopped. It was headed for Brooklyn. I fell asleep on the train, however, and some jerk stole my bag with my money inside it and got off the train before I even woke up. I was angry, but so glad to be finally free that it didn't bother me that much. I still had a couple of dollars in my pocket, though. When I got off the train, I was completely lost. I wandered around Brooklyn for a couple of days, sleeping in the alleys behind boxes so no one would find me. I was just trying to get a feel for how the city works, and how I could earn some money. Yesterday evening, I wandered past the racetrack, and I have always loved horses, so that's how I ended up losing all of my money at Sheepshead Races, and meeting you at the same time." Julianna finished her long story and sighed.
She looked down at her plate, which had arrived several minutes ago. She pushed the food around it, scared to look at Racetrack for fear he would hate her for leaving all of that wealth. One thing she had learned while in New York was that rich and poor mixed no better than at her house. Rich looked down at the poor, and the poor thought all rich people were snobby and greedy. She looked up at Racetrack, who was staring at her.
"You must hate me now. I'm sorry I wasted your time. I know you must think I'm selfish for leaving, so I'll just leave now and be out of your hair..." Julianna babbled, starting to get up.
"Sit down, Julie," Racetrack ordered. Julianna obeyed, shocked. "You know, I never break my promises, although the promise you made me make earlier was pretty unnecessary, if ya ask me. I liked you when I didn't know your name. I liked you more once I got to talking to you. The fact that you happened to come from a family with more money doesn't mean that your life was any less hard than mine was. That wouldn't matter anyway. I like you, not your past or your family. It only has to do with you, your beauty, your sense of humor, your kindness, and your honesty. I'm finished now. If you still want to leave, be my guest." As Racetrack finished, Julianna stared at him in disbelief. She was blushing brightly at his compliments. Although his words seemed harsh, Racetrack was smiling. He knew his tactics had been effective.
"Thank you so much for caring, Racetrack. That's more than anyone has done for me in a very very long time," she said finally. "Oh, and by the way, you're not so bad yourself, Mr. Subtle," she finished, with a sly grin on her face.
Racetrack smiled back, his face slightly pink. "I had a feeling today was going to be a good day. Looks like I was right," he added honestly.
Julianna and Racetrack remained silent, staring, mesmerized, into each other's eyes. It was Racetrack who reluctantly broke the stare to glance at his watch. "Hey, it's getting late. How 'bout we take a walk before goin' back to the Lodgin' House?" he suggested.
Julianna smiled warmly and stood up. "Sure." Racetrack added his money to her pile of coins on the table. He stood up and took her hand, leading her out of the restaurant. They walked for a long time through Manhattan, their hands entwined. Racetrack pointed out all of the landmarks, including his favorite one, the Horace Greely statue in Newsie Square. That landmark in particular was accompanied by a long winded account of the Newsies' defeat of Pulitzer and Hearst the summer almost exactly a year ago. As they rounded the corner of Duane Street, Racetrack glanced up to the upstairs windows of the Lodging House. He found them still dark, and inferred that his friends were still at Irving Hall. He smiled inwardly.
Once in the bunkroom of the Lodging House, Racetrack showed Julianna which bunks were free; Julianna chose the empty bunk that was conveniently right next to Racetrack's.
"Good choice, Julie. Wouldn't want you fallin' off the bunk on your foist night heyah. That would be embarrassin'." Racetrack laughed.
"Why thank you. I'm so glad you approve," Julianna responded sarcastically, sitting down on what was now her bunk. She jumped up and down a little to test it. She then tucked her feet underneath her and watch Racetrack fiddle aimlessly with the things on the table in between the bunks. He glanced up and found her staring at him intently. He grinned and crossed the distance between them to sit next to her on the bed.
Racetrack watched her snappy green eyes stare at him. He felt so close to her then, and wanted to kiss her. It wasn't something he did often, so he was extremely nervous, especially since he had just met her. But he figured, what the hell, if she didn't like him like that, she could tell him and that would be that. He really had very little to lose.
Julianna watched, awed, as Racetrack's face went from a mischievous grin to a confused frown, and then to a resolved, soft smile. She wondered what was going through his mind. Just then, she noticed how very close they were. Before she could process the situation enough to worry about it, Racetrack kissed her. A buzz of passion passed through her body, followed by the warm, gooey feeling of complete bliss. Julianna knew that this was supposed to happen. She gave herself up to the kiss, returning it whole-heartedly.
A moment later, they parted. Julianna opened her eyes slowly to find Racetrack gazing at her happily. She smiled back at him dreamily. Suddenly, everything that had happened since running away didn't really matter to her, the only person in her world was Racetrack, and her future was looking very bright.