Chapter 3:
"What th' hell's ya problem, Happy?" Jack shouted, throwing his hands up in the air to vent the frustration that told him to strike the girl.
"It's called bein' a girl! News flash Jack: girls and boys are differ'nt!"
"I jus' asked ya a damn question, girl! What's so wrong wit' askin' 'How ya doin', Happy'?"
"You did not ask it like that, an' ya know it!"
"Watch out, Jack. She could kick ya like she kicked me," Skittery warned, tossing a bitter glance in Happy's direction.
The girl shot him a vicious glare. "Shut up, Skitts, jus' shut up."
"As ya wish, Majesty," he replied sarcastically, giving a mocking half bow.
Happy rolled her eyes, grabbed the cigar from Race's mouth- as he was sitting silently nearby, trying to avoid the argument- and stalked from the bunkroom.
"Happy?" Kloppman began, hearing her stomps down the staircase.
"Not now," she replied, shoving the door open. Spot was on his way into the lodging house, and received a sound smack in the head.
"Nice t' see ya too, Happy," he muttered, rubbing his bruised forehead a bit.
"Shut up." She moved past him and headed down the street.
Back in the bunkroom, Skittery folded his arms over his chest and gave a pointed look towards the furious Manhattan leader. "Told ya she was a royal pain in th' neck."
"I a'ready knew that!"
"This's what we get for lettin' a girl stay here," Kid Blink scowled.
Spot came into the bunkroom moments later. "What was her problem?" He rubbed his aching head a bit and waited impatiently for someone to fill him in.
Race looked at the others after Jack had explained what had happened and everyone had made their respective comments. "She ain't all that bad. Ever'one has their off days."
"She's okay, even though she steals ya cigars?" Snipeshooter demanded.
He shrugged. "You do. Sure, it's annoyin', but she really ain't that bad. Jus' give 'er a chance-"
"Shut up!" came a loud, simultaneous shout from everyone in the room.
Pulling another cigar from his vest, he muttered to himself, "Fella can't even have an opinion these days" as he lit up.
* * *
"Men," Happy huffed. "Those morons think they's th' kings of th' world!"
"Well, well, well, looky here Oscar. A lost little newsy. An' a girl, at that," a voice commented behind her. "What d'ya think we should do?"
"I dunno, Morris. I think we should get t' know 'er a little better, what d'ya think?" another voice replied.
Happy turned with a stony expression on her face of one not to be trifled with. "Ya wouldn't happen t' be th' Delancey's I've heard about so often, wouldja?"
One of the boys nudged the other. "Well, what d'ya know, Morris. She knows us already."
Her dark eyes narrowed. "I am not in a good mood t'day. So ya might wanna beat it, if ya know what's good for ya."
"Oh I would, huh?" asked the one called Morris. "I thinks ya should jus' behave, an' we won't hurt ya too bad." He and his brother cornered her into an alley. Her response, nothing more than a cool stare, baffled the two brothers a bit. Why wasn't she screaming for help from that bastard, Cowboy?
"I'm warnin' ya again: ya don't wanna mess wit' me t'day."
"Oh, we'll see about that!" Both Delanceys lunged at her with vicious intents in mind. A few seconds and two well-placed kicks later, they were on the ground, moaning in agony.
She glanced at them indifferently. "I told ya not t' mess wit' me." Then she turned and walked away. After a while of venting her anger through brisk walking, she sat down on the curb and watched others pass her by.
"You're the new girl, aren't you? Happy, right?" Happy glanced up from her spot on the ground to see a slim, unfamiliar young man with a head of curly brown hair standing next to her with a stack of books under his arm.
She arched an eyebrow as he sat down next to her with a content sigh. "Who're you?"
"David. David Jacobs." After a pause, he spat into his hand and held it out to her.
Cautiously, she took it. "How do ya know who I am?"
"The newsies are friends of mine. I used to be one-"
"Used to?" She glanced at the books in his hands.
"My father had been injured in a factory accident, so my younger brother and I went to work as newsies until he was able to return. I promised that once he was better, I'd go back to school so..." He gestured absently to his books. "Back in school, I am."
"I guess they talk 'bout me a lot, 'eh?" she muttered, resting her chin onto her arms folded over her knees.
"Well, I guess so. Jack really should be called the Walking Mouth. All he does is gossip."
She glanced at him and laughed. "That's true... So, you's th' infamous Walkin' Mouth, hmm?" she asked, fitting the pieces of the snippets of various stories she had heard together.
He groaned, leaning his head back. "I see they've already told you about me."
"Oh sure. They gots great stories 'bout ya." She graced him with a grin when he shook his head with a sigh.
"Well, let me give you a word of advice: Don't listen to a thing they say about me... unless it's good, of course."
She laughed again. "Okay, that I'll do. Ya know, ya ain't as bad as I thought ya'd be."
"I'll take that as a compliment. You aren't as bad as Jack makes you out to be."
She arched an eyebrow, interested in this new bit of knowledge. "Oh, he thinks I'm bad, eh?"
"Yeah, well he told me about some episode involving kicking Skittery..."
She shrugged, with a grin. "Hey, don't call me Sweetheart, an' we'll get along jus' great."
David smiled, with an absent nod. "I'll store that away." Then he climbed to a stand. "I'm heading to the lodging house. Do you want to come?"
She nodded, and rose to follow him. "How'd ya know who I was, anyway? By sight, I mean."
"Like I said, Jack talks too much. Besides, your clothes give it all away. Those are Mush's, aren't they?"
Happy looked down at her pants and shrugged. "Ya guess is as good as mine." She shoved her hands into her pockets, shuffling alongside David, and kept up light conversation.
Entering the lodging house, they greeted Kloppman pleasantly and headed up the stairs. Slamming open the door, Happy stepped into the bunkroom, yelling cheerfully, "I'm back! Any of ya miss me?" Her question was met with a few snorts. She shrugged, stepping further into the room. "Aw, well, I love ya too... Anyway, look who followed me home." David walked past her and was greeted heartily by the newsboys.
"Davey! Good t' see ya!" Jack crowed, grabbing the boy's arm and pulling him in the direction he had come. "Happy ain't messin' wit' ya, is she? Ya all in one piece? She was pretty mad earlier t'day."
Happy rolled her eyes, climbing onto her bed. "He's fine, Jack. Ya don't think I'd hurt a fella who'd give me good information on ya, now do ya?"
Every pair of eyes drifted towards David suspiciously. He made a startled face, holding up his hands, defending himself before they had a chance to accuse him of anything. The girl newsy giggled, deliciously pleased with the unintentional havoc she created.
"Is there somethin' ya wanna share wit' us, Happy?" Race inquired, absently sticking the end of a pencil in his mouth, then spitting it out in realization that it wasn't his cigar, and that the girl in question had been the one who took it.
She gave him her most innocent glance, the sort that read 'who, me?' He snorted at her attempt of innocence and turned to start up a conversation with Specs. Happy let her gaze drift across the room, and she found Skittery watching her with the utmost irritated eye. 'Well,' she considered, toying with the end of her braid as she humorously watched the intense questioning David was given, 'can't please everyone Hell, ya can't really please any of these fellas.' With a sigh, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, creating around her an air that screamed 'do not disturb'.
