Oh my gosh, I am having such a hard time typing 'Snitch' now instead of 'Brett.' I'm going to go insane when I change anybody else's names. Oh, and, by the way, please don't assume that Thomas' religious views are mine, I just figured that a teenage boy living on the streets in those times wouldn't be very religious, ya know? And "the royal we" is when kings and queens (and annoying teachers) refer to themselves as 'we' and 'us': "It seems we have spilled some water upon ourselves." And this is the most ridiculously random opening I have ever written.

The next morning, as I got ready for church, I was astonished to see Snitch rolling out of bed to get up himself. "I thought you said you 'didn't do da whole church t'ing,'" I said, mimicking his accent.

Snitch rolled his eyes as he leaned against the wall next to the sink where I was washing my face and said sleepily, "Nah, I don't, I got odder t'ings to do."

"Like what?" I asked in astonishment. There was very little that could tempt me to get up earlier than necessary. I wouldn't even have gotten up for church if I hadn't been terrified of what would happen to me if I didn't. I wasn't afraid of God's retribution, but my mother...well, that was a different story.

"Stuff," he said evasively. I stared at him for a moment, water dripping from my face. Snitch smirked and handed me a towel. As a dried off, I suddenly began laughing into my towel. "What?" Snitch asked defensively.

"You're going to watch for that girl again, aren't you?" I teased.

I could tell by his blush that I was right, even as he sputtered, "No, I'm no—I mean, what goil?"

I grinned, "It's alright, Snitch, I told you, I think she's pretty. Pretty enough for you, anyway."

"What are you talkin' 'bout? Admit it, man, she's an angel!" (A/N: That's straight from Pride and Prejudice, which you should all go read if you haven't. Right now. Stop reading my fanfic, because P&P is wonderful). Then he groaned, "Aw, yer not gonna start wit' dat 'Snitch' stuff, too, are ya?"

"What's the matter with 'Snitch'?" I asked innocently. "I'm sure that girl will be impressed by it. If you ever talk to her. Which you won't."

"Hey, hey, hey! (I thought 'ey 'ey 'ey looked weird) I'll talk to 'er! I'm obsoivin' foist."

"Sure," I exclaimed as I walked out the door, "and the day you ask her out, I'll buy you two dinner."

As I walked home from church, where I had seen a couple of the newsies I had met last night – Race, an uncomfortable-looking Mush, and two whose names I didn't know – I tried to convince myself that I felt better now, holier. It didn't work. 'Oh, well,' I reflected, 'at least I won't have to lie to Mother when she asks about New York City churches."

As I entered the room that served as our bedroom and kitchen, I was greeted by laughter, and a hat thrown at my face. "Ha!" Snitch crowed, "better get yer money out, boy, 'cause I got us a date!"

I let out a startled, "What?" before turned to Matthew for confirmation.

"Yep. He's been like dis all mornin', too, so I'se glad you'se back. Mebbe you can shut 'im up."

"Ain't nobody can shut me up tadday, fellas!" He threw his arm over my shoulders, "I got us a date wit' da mos' bee-yoo-tiful goil in town!"

I started to smile – his excitement was catching – but then his words registered. "Wait, us? What do you mean, 'us'? Please tell me that you're using the royal 'we,' not adding me to your little date."

Snitch looked at me pitifully. OK, Snitch tried to look at me pitifully, but he definitely couldn't hide the excitement and triumph dancing in his eyes. "Chance has got dis friend, see? An', apparently, dey do ev'ryt'ing taggeda. So, I tol' 'er I'd set 'er friend up wit' a friend o' mine, an' we'd all be a big, friendly party." He patted my shoulder. "'Sides, you did say you'd pay fer dinner."

I glared at him, then sighed in defeat. "Alright, when is it?" I asked.

Snitch yelped in delight. "So yer comin'? I mean, I knew you'd come, but still...yer comin'? Awright! Um, she couldn't go tadday, so—"

"Why?" I asked.

"I dunno, I didn't ask 'er"

Matthew spoke up, "'E was so excited she said 'yes,' 'e couldn't t'ink straight. 'E jus' kept babblin' on an' on, barely even remembered to set a date."

"Well," Snitch said frigidly, "she couldn't come tadday, so I jus' said, 'Well how's about tamorrah?' An' she said dat would be fine. So, tammorrah it is."

"Alright, Snitch, but you owe me."

"Snitch?" Matthew asked.

Snitch sighed loudly, then walked out of the room, muttering, "You look nice taday, Chance..."

I sat down across from Matthew and explained, "Well, Brett used to play with the newsies when he was young..." and I was off, telling Matthew all about the newsies, their love of nicknames, and how Snitch had gotten his. When I finished, Matthew seemed interested and kept asking more about them. "I don't know," I laughed, "I only met them once. Maybe you should come next time."

Matthew immediately got quieter. "Oh, um, I dunno."

"Why not?"

"Well, I jus' don't really like to meet new people, I guess."

"Again, why not?"

"Dey jus' make me noivous. I mean, what if you can't really trust 'em?"

I thought about this. "But, Matthew, you can't go your whole life without friends."

He shrugged. "'S worked so far."

"Haven't you ever cared 'bout somebody? At all?"

"Yea, an' dey...dey weren't worth it," he shuddered. "My muddah got pregnant fer me, so she an' my Paw was married, but dey never wanted it. Or me. Well, 'e didn't anyway. I t'ink my muddah loved me some. She never liked Paw to hit me. Anyway, Paw was a drunk an' Muddah wasn't much better. I don't t'ink she was before deir marriage, dough. She used to say it kept 'er sane when she took a beatin'. An', mosta da time, I was next in line after her. Only, when I got older, Paw noticed me more. I was sore jus' about every night from da whippings 'e'd lay on me. Tanner's a joke after dat. So, one night, Paw beat me bad. Real bad. Den 'e toined on Muddah fer lettin' 'im hit me like dat. An' after 'e, after 'e" Matthew waved weakly, "y'know, killed 'er, 'e took a gun to 'is 'ead." He clenched his jaw

"I'm sorry," I said faintly, unsure of what to do. I had heard, of course, of kids getting beaten by their parents, but it had always been a distant thing. My parents were angry at me almost as often as I was at them, but I knew that they loved me, knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt. I wondered what it would be like to wonder if Mother loved me at all, or to speak of Dad's death as a release. "I'm sorry," I said again.

Matthew seemed determined to finish, now that he'd begun. "So, I lived on da streets. Takin' care o' myself when I was ten years old. A friend o' my fadda's took me in, but 'e was jus' like 'im, so I ran out. Been barely getting' by for 'most seven years now." He looked up. "Den, Tanner offered me a job, so 'ere I am. Savin' my money as it comes an' jus' tryin' to..."

"To what?" I asked.

He exhaled sharply, "I dunno. Get outta 'ere, I guess. Find a family dat's not gonna treat each other rough."

"Well," I said, "you're not going to do that by hiding in here."

He glared at me. "It ain't dat easy, y'know. I been tryin' fer years to jus' make myself trust someone, but ev'ry time I talked to someone, I was scared dat dey'd turn out jus' like my Paw, or me muddah. An' dey have. Paw's friend, Tanner...dey all let me down."

"I haven't let you down yet," I offered, "and neither has Snitch. Why'd you start talking to us, anyway, if you're so determined not to trust us?"

For the first time he looked uncertain. "I don't really know," he replied. "I guess I jus' thought, one more try."

"Then keep trying," I urged. "We're not going to let you down, so come meet some of Snitch's friends, too. Maybe you'll find a family."

Snitch walked in, singing a song that I was fairly certain he had made up himself: "Oh, Chance, I do love you," then in a high falsetto, "Oh, Snitch, I love you, too..." He began waltzing around the room with an imaginary partner, dipping and twirling her as Matthew and I stared. Then he grabbed his hat, "C'mon, I wanna go tell da guys."

I looked at Matthew meaningfully, and he reluctantly got up and followed Snitch out the door.

We joined the newsies in an area that Snitch referred to as "Horace Greeley Square." They were scattered around a statue of, fittingly enough, Horace Greeley. Once again, we were greeted by a general cry of "Heys," and I was delighted to hear how many times my nick was mentioned, unflattering as it might be. Snitch sure was right when he said the newsies liked to give embarrassing nicks. Still, it was nice – and slightly amazing – that they had accepted me so quickly. I just hoped that they'd do the same for Matthew. I spun around quickly looking for him, with a wild idea that he might have run off or something. He saw me searching frantically and smiled wryly, guessing my thoughts. "I ain't run off yet," he whispered, "I said I'd give 'em a chance, an' I will."

Snitch, hearing the whispered conversation, turned to the boys and yelled, "Hey! Cheese it! I got somet'in to say." He paused, so that everyone would settle down, then, as he opened his mouth again, Race interjected in a high falsetto, "I'm pregnant!"

Snitch glared at Race, muttering under his breath, then began to quiet the boys down again. This was hard, however, as they seemed more likely to ask, "Hey, when's it due, Snitch?", and "Who's da faddah?" then to listen. Finally, though, he calmed them down enough to say, "First off, dis here's Matthew. 'E woiks at da forge wit' me an' Specs 'ere." He grinned at the glare I gave him for that, then continued. "He's a little nervous-like, so be nice. Also, I jus' wanna tell all you bummers dat 'ave been makin' fun o' me, I asked dat goil out, jus' like I said I would, an' me an' Specs is goin' on a date wit' 'er an' 'er friend tamorrah."

The boys started hooting and whistling, Race pretended to pass out from shock, and I was bombarded with inquiries as to the truth of Snitch's descriptions of this "angel." Soon, however, the conversation progressed to other topics, and I was able to keep an eye on Matthew while getting to know the newsies better. I thought he did pretty well, too. He didn't talk very much, but, after about a half hour, he managed to keep from flinching at every movement and even looked as though he were enjoying the antics of boys his own age. I smiled and continued my conversation. I discovered that, aside from us, there were several boys who "bummed around" with the newsies when they weren't working their other jobs. I had fun for the first time in New York City. The newsies are a great, happy-go-lucky group. I can only hope our date tomorrow goes as well.

That night, despite my protests that I was only going on one date, I found myself wondering what Chance's friend looked like. Was she pretty? Would she like me?

Koodles4you: I'm glad that you like Matthew. He's actually really hard to write because I keep feeling like he's making progress abnormally fast. Oh well, all's fair in fanfics, right? I'm glad you liked incredulous, although, personally, I'm fond of falsetto, which I used TWICE in this chapter. I mean, really it's a great singing word: falsetto, faaaalsetto, falseeeetto, falsettooooooo...(sound of breaking glass) Um...

SmartassLeprechaun: oooh, you really are a leprechaun? I won't ask for your pot of gold, but can I play on the rainbow? ;-) I'm glad to hear that Southern boys are sweet. Oh, wait, no...that means that I'm getting spoiled for other guys! (thinks about it) Oh, well, I love to be spoiled. Isn't NC great? I want to live there someday. Oh, and don't worry too much about Matthew. I don't think that I could kill off one of my darling boys.

Daydream: YOU'RE FROM NC?? I am sososo jealous. It's so pretty up there, and there are mountains! Mountains, I tell you! And snow! And four seasons! None of which can be found in Louisiana. I have no idea where Grove County came from, and there probably isn't one in NC, or anywhere else, for that matter. If I'd known that I had a native reading my fic I would have done my homework. Actually, I probably wouldn't have, because I'm a slacker. Just don't tell my teachers!