Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make.
I am not profiting at all from this story.
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!
Shoutouts:
Sloane Miette- he was ASLEEP??? What did you do, drug him? THAT'S IT!!! DRUGS!
Itey: she didn't drug me...
Buttons: sure she didn't, don't stand up for her!
Itey: uh, I'm just telling the truth.
Buttons: upset just go twiddle your suspenders!
Itey- shrug
Anyways, Jack at a...crucial moment in his life as a teenager. He needs some time to sort out his feelings and see where he stands with everything. He'll come around, I hope. That part isn't even planned yet.
Strawberri Shake- how do you know I'm not actually your English teacher? Muah ha ha! OK, seriously now, I'm not. It is a coincidence; it's a heap of luck and good guesses. I'm actually doing To Kill a Mockingbird also, but we got to choose what classic to do.
(Still Thursday)
Skittery's PoV
Bradley called me today! Yes! He called me! Bradley who? you ask. Bradley, as in Guy-Who-Asked-Me-To-Dance, Bradley! So he called me and I picked up and nearly dropped the phone in surprise when he told me who it was.
"Hello? Brad? I'm so sorry," I gasped, after supporting the receiver once again.
"No problem," he laughed, "are you OK?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. So, why'd you call?" I was blushing.
"Just to talk. I realized I don't know anything about you." That sounded about right. Other than his name and phone number I didn't know much about him. Oh, and that he's a good dancer.
"Uh, OK, so how do we start?" I was never very good at these 'getting to know you' exercises.
"Well, my name is Bradley Martin. My nickname is Snoddy. I'm eighteen and in grade twelve. My mom owns a diner and my dad is a banker in Manhattan. I have only one sister and she's eleven. She's really smart, she gets straight As and she's won all these contests for her writing. My dad is the greatest. He always works when he has to but always finds time to spend with Elizabeth—my sister—and me." He stopped, making it sound very final.
"Wh-what about your mom?" I didn't know if he wanted me to ask or not.
"Oh, she's OK. She's kind of cold to me to tell you the truth. She'd like you though. She always likes my friends better than me." He cleared his throat uncomfortably, "so, how 'bout you?"
"Well, my name's William Jones, or Skittery. I'm seventeen and in grade eleven. My mom doesn't work and my dad owns a shipping company out of New York harbour. I have one sister too," I smiled thinking about her, "she's older though, she's already married. Her name's Christina and she's got a daughter named Julia—"
"You're an uncle?" he sounded amused.
"Yeah, Julia's only two-years-old........."
"William! Get off the phone please! Your father needs to call the office!" my mom called from downstairs.
"Listen, Snoddy, I have to go. My dad needs to use the phone."
"OK, see you Skittery Jones," I smiled and began to lower the receiver, "and.........do you want to go out sometime?"
I bit my lip to keep back giddy laughter, "I'd love to."
David's PoV
Sarah is moping around the house. She keeps grumbling and muttering under her breath. I am constantly hearing snatches of these mutterings and they always contain the word 'Jack'.
I rolled my eyes when she scuffled back through the room mumbling loudly.
"Where's Jack now Sister Bear?" I grinned as she collapsed into an armchair.
"Shut up David," she hurled a pillow at me (the same one I suffocated Les with), "go kiss your boyfriend."
Did everyone know I was gay? "How do you know that?" I gasped.
"No offence David, but you're getting one of those fag lisps," she was snickering, "and only the really gay guys get one.........what're they called again? Flamers? So I just figured that you must be gay and you might have a boyfriend." She shrugged and sniffed loudly and dramatically.
I whipped the pillow back at her and trudged to my room. If even my stupid sister could figure it out, who else knows?
A/n: and there you have it readers! Skittery and SNODDY! Who would've thunk it? Not me, serious, it was supposed to be Snitch but SparkS said 'HEY that was MY idea, making Snitch and Bumlets hate each other!' (see chapter one and three (I think it's three)) so I had to use Snoddy. Oh well, it's sweet nonetheless. R&R people!
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!
Shoutouts:
Sloane Miette- he was ASLEEP??? What did you do, drug him? THAT'S IT!!! DRUGS!
Itey: she didn't drug me...
Buttons: sure she didn't, don't stand up for her!
Itey: uh, I'm just telling the truth.
Buttons: upset just go twiddle your suspenders!
Itey- shrug
Anyways, Jack at a...crucial moment in his life as a teenager. He needs some time to sort out his feelings and see where he stands with everything. He'll come around, I hope. That part isn't even planned yet.
Strawberri Shake- how do you know I'm not actually your English teacher? Muah ha ha! OK, seriously now, I'm not. It is a coincidence; it's a heap of luck and good guesses. I'm actually doing To Kill a Mockingbird also, but we got to choose what classic to do.
(Still Thursday)
Skittery's PoV
Bradley called me today! Yes! He called me! Bradley who? you ask. Bradley, as in Guy-Who-Asked-Me-To-Dance, Bradley! So he called me and I picked up and nearly dropped the phone in surprise when he told me who it was.
"Hello? Brad? I'm so sorry," I gasped, after supporting the receiver once again.
"No problem," he laughed, "are you OK?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. So, why'd you call?" I was blushing.
"Just to talk. I realized I don't know anything about you." That sounded about right. Other than his name and phone number I didn't know much about him. Oh, and that he's a good dancer.
"Uh, OK, so how do we start?" I was never very good at these 'getting to know you' exercises.
"Well, my name is Bradley Martin. My nickname is Snoddy. I'm eighteen and in grade twelve. My mom owns a diner and my dad is a banker in Manhattan. I have only one sister and she's eleven. She's really smart, she gets straight As and she's won all these contests for her writing. My dad is the greatest. He always works when he has to but always finds time to spend with Elizabeth—my sister—and me." He stopped, making it sound very final.
"Wh-what about your mom?" I didn't know if he wanted me to ask or not.
"Oh, she's OK. She's kind of cold to me to tell you the truth. She'd like you though. She always likes my friends better than me." He cleared his throat uncomfortably, "so, how 'bout you?"
"Well, my name's William Jones, or Skittery. I'm seventeen and in grade eleven. My mom doesn't work and my dad owns a shipping company out of New York harbour. I have one sister too," I smiled thinking about her, "she's older though, she's already married. Her name's Christina and she's got a daughter named Julia—"
"You're an uncle?" he sounded amused.
"Yeah, Julia's only two-years-old........."
"William! Get off the phone please! Your father needs to call the office!" my mom called from downstairs.
"Listen, Snoddy, I have to go. My dad needs to use the phone."
"OK, see you Skittery Jones," I smiled and began to lower the receiver, "and.........do you want to go out sometime?"
I bit my lip to keep back giddy laughter, "I'd love to."
David's PoV
Sarah is moping around the house. She keeps grumbling and muttering under her breath. I am constantly hearing snatches of these mutterings and they always contain the word 'Jack'.
I rolled my eyes when she scuffled back through the room mumbling loudly.
"Where's Jack now Sister Bear?" I grinned as she collapsed into an armchair.
"Shut up David," she hurled a pillow at me (the same one I suffocated Les with), "go kiss your boyfriend."
Did everyone know I was gay? "How do you know that?" I gasped.
"No offence David, but you're getting one of those fag lisps," she was snickering, "and only the really gay guys get one.........what're they called again? Flamers? So I just figured that you must be gay and you might have a boyfriend." She shrugged and sniffed loudly and dramatically.
I whipped the pillow back at her and trudged to my room. If even my stupid sister could figure it out, who else knows?
A/n: and there you have it readers! Skittery and SNODDY! Who would've thunk it? Not me, serious, it was supposed to be Snitch but SparkS said 'HEY that was MY idea, making Snitch and Bumlets hate each other!' (see chapter one and three (I think it's three)) so I had to use Snoddy. Oh well, it's sweet nonetheless. R&R people!