OK, so the clue in the last chapter for Matthew's identity – I might as well tell you, you'll find out soon anyway – was that he was going to start charging for handing over the towel. Remember, Race: Pass the towel, Skitts: For a buck I might. That's always been one of my favorite parts, no idea why. OK, so it was really, really obscure. It made me happy. Also, thanks so much to my dear Koodles for teaching me how to draw a line. Which sounds quite silly, actually, but I really am excited about it!

I was walking through Central Park with Maria, only now it was daytime. We talked and laughed more comfortably now. When our hands touched, there was no blushing or sweet awkwardness, just a natural entwining of fingers. I sat against a tree and pulled her down next to me. I could feel her leaning against me...

Wait, I really could feel her leaning against me. I opened my eyes groggily to gaze at her, and was greeted instead by Snitch's grinning face.

"Good mornin'!" he chirped. I swear, he chirped it. "How was your night? And I don't mean how did you sleep?" He chuckled to himself.

"Um, fine," I answered sleepily.

He stopped and stared at me. "Fine?"

I couldn't control the delighted smile that spread over my face, although I tried. I gave in. "It was great. Maria's something else."

He laughed and slapped my back. "Yea, so's Chance. She's, well, she's...yea." He lapsed into silence for a moment, then mused, "I wonder if dey're talking 'bout us right now."

I gave an amused half-smile as I headed for the sink. "Probably not." I could already tell that Snitch would be talking about Chance just as much today as he did yesterday. Well, at least his endless praise of Chance would require no response from Matthew and I, so we were free to ignore him as we chose.

"D'you t'ink dere's any chance o' him shuttin' up 'bout 'er?" Matthew asked desperately.

Before I could reply, Snitch was at his elbow. "Did I hear you mention Chance?"

I looked at him, then back at Matthew. "Probably not," I replied sourly. I tuned Snitch out as I washed my face. After I dried my face off, I stared into the mirror for a moment. Despite my pessimism when Snitch had asked the question earlier, I wondered if Maria was thinking about me right now. Because I was sure thinking about her.

After Snitch had told us about his date for the third time – "an' den, after we split off from Specs an' Maria, Chance an' I talked a while. You know she's woikin' at da bakery two blocks over. She said dat she actually walked outta 'er way every weekend when she was makin deliveries, jus' to pass dis place an' catch a glimpse o' me. So, we joked 'round fer a while, den, when I dropped 'er off, I kissed 'er. An', well, I dropped 'er off again a while after dat..." – Matthew had had enough.

He looked around for a distraction, then settled on me. "I wanna hear 'bout Thomas's date."

I groaned inwardly. I had hoped Snitch's chatter would keep me from having to share my date. I wasn't much for talking over things, especially not personal things. And, for some reason, although my date with Maria hadn't been anything really personal, I had wanted to keep it to myself a while longer. To hold it close, a delicious memory to admire as I pleased, something that was wholly mine. "C'mon, guys, you don't want to hear all that."

Now Snitch's interest was caught. "Oh, yes, we do. Every last detail!"

Well, maybe if I gave them a short version. "We just walked around and talked for a while, then I brought her home."

"C'mon, man, give us a little more than that," Matthew said, sounding exasperated, "What did you talk about?"

"Well, first about where we lived, before New York, I mean. Then she told me a little about her family." Despite myself, I was warming to the story, reliving every emotion through my words. "Then our accents. I love the way she talks. And then I brought her home, and we just talked about little things. And that's all." Matthew and Snitch raised their eyebrows at me. "Really," I insisted.

"You didn't even kiss 'er g'night?" Snitch asked in astonishment.

"No," I replied, startled. "It was our first date. I just – I wanted to, but I also wanted to hold off, get to know her better."

"Well," Matthew said finally, "he talks like a Southern gen'l'man, an' I guess 'e acts like one, too."

After that we went back to Snitch's date, and I found that, as long as I kept looking at him and nodding occasionally, I could relive the feel of Maria's hand in mine and concentrate on the gentle rise and fall of her voice. But, mostly, I could watch her smile in all its different aspects. I had shared what happened and what was said, but that smile, at least, remained mine.

That night we stayed in, eating dinner at the blacksmith's. But then, on Wednesday, we had dinner with the newsies, and, of course, Snitch and I had to give accounts of our dates. Snitch never seemed to tire of retelling his, sharing every last detail of his conversation with Chance. Although he did, at least, only skim over the last few minutes as he "dropped her off." I, on the other hand, had a hard time offering the boys the minutiae they wanted.

"Ah, Specs ain't got anyt'ing to tell," Snitch laughed finally. "'E jus' talked wit' 'er."

After the obligatory jokes and comments had been made, Matthew, who hadn't so much as met anyone's eye since we'd arrived, spoke up. "I bet Maria's braggin' to Chance what a gen'l'man she's got. An' I bet Chance is more'n a little jealous." He shrunk back as everyone stared at him. "I'm jus' sayin'," he whispered.

Jack stood up and said boisterously, "Whatsamatter? You scared or somet'in'? When you say somet'in' like dat you gotta be able to back it up."

Crutchy looked at Jack, "Hey, Jack, calm down. I'm sure 'e didn't mean anyt'ing by it. Did you?" he asked Matthew. Then he frowned in concern. "Hey, are you alright?"

"He's OK," Snitch offered, "he jus' gets a little nervous and skittery in big groups an' people 'e don't know an' stuff."

"Skittery," I chortled, "is that even a word?"

"Hey, we ain't all educated like you, Mr. Southern gen'l'man," Snitch responded lazily. "I guess it's a woid now. In fact," he turned excitedly to Matthew, "it's yer new nick." He stood solemnly in front of Matthew, "I 'ereby dub you Skittery." (A/N: I had to stick that in there somewhere.)

Matthew – well, Skittery – made a face, but everyone else seemed to approve. And, to his relief, the focus had shifted from his earlier statement.

The next day, while we were once again hard at work, Snitch began lecturing Skittery about his "anti-social tendencies." Frankly, I was personally so impressed that Snitch had used that phrase that I didn't even pay attention to the lecture. Until, that is, he admitted that he had overheard some lawyer talking about it to a colleague.

I tuned back in to the lecture. "I mean, da guys ain't gonna hurt ya. Dey might rough you a little bit, but jeez, Skitts."

"Skitts?" Skittery interrupted, "you're already givin' me a nick for my nick?"

Snitch gave him a stern look. "You're changing the subject. Now, I want you to try – and I mean, try – to talk to da guys a little bit more. Y'know, like you talk to us when it's jus' us woikin'." I had to smile at the way Snitch was lecturing Matthew...um, Skittery. He sounded just like my mother. Thinking of Mother, I frowned. I hadn't heard from her since I got to New York. Not that I expected her to write me every day, but I was her only child! Couldn't she have written one letter to see how I was? Snitch's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Ain't dat right, Specs?" he asked expectantly.

"Absolutely," I replied automatically.

That day after work, I told Snitch and Matthew – argh, no Skittery – that I didn't feel much like going to see the guys tonight. As soon as they were gone, I grabbed my hat and headed out the door. I walked quickly, but, before long, I saw a flower shop. I smiled, then began whistling.

I'll buy you a daisy a day, dear

I walked up to the shop owner and tried to get her attention, but she was busy convincing a man that he really needed a dozen red roses, not just one.

I'll buy you a daisy a day.

Finally, she turned to me. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'd like a daisy, please."

"Just one daisy? Are you sure, young man? Tell me about this girl you're buying them for. Is she special?"

I grinned. "She sure is."

"Then perhaps you'll want more than just one. To let her know how special she is."

I finally convinced her that I really did only want one – she refused to believe me until I showed her the tiny amount of money in my pocket – then headed off for Casa Garcia.

I'll love you until the river runs still,

And the four winds we know blow away.

My confidence faltered a little as I walked into the restaurant. A forbidding man who bore too much of a resemblance to Maria to be anyone but her father was flanked by two equally forbidding boys. "I'm, um...looking for Maria?" It came out less firmly than I would have liked, but I wasn't complaining. At least I managed to talk without squeaking.

"Who are you?" he questioned.

"Well, sir, I'm, uh, you see, I'm..." I fumbled

"Specs!" Maria said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

At the sight of her, my earlier good spirits came flying back, and I grinned. "I'm here to see you. What did you think?"

She smiled in delight. "I'll be right back," she said, gesturing to the tray in her hands.

I smiled unsurely at her father for a moment, and we sat in silence for a while before he asked me, "So, Specs, what is it you do?"

"I work at Tanner's Smithy down the road, sir," I replied. So far, so good.

"And you are the boy who Maria was with on Monday, no?"

"Yes. Yes, that was me."

"Well," he stated. And again, "well."

"Well what, sir?" I couldn't resist asking.

"Well, she seems to like you enough," he said finally. "So that is good."

I exhaled in relief. Maria came out of the back room. She glanced at her father, then said, "Let's go outside." After we had walked for a little while, she said, "So, what did you want?"

"Well, to give you this, for one thing." I handed her the daisy. "And just, I don't know, to see you."

She laughed lightly, and I memorized her laugh, a tune to keep me occupied while I worked. "You walked nine blocks to come see me and give me a flower."

It was a statement, not a question, but I still felt the need to explain myself. "It's just...well, yes. I wanted to see you." I flushed hotly. "I kept thinking about you, so..." I trailed off.

She smiled shyly. "I'm glad you came."

I stopped and looked at her. "Yea?"

"Yea," she said. We wandered along for a while longer, talking about nothing and everything, just like last time. Finally, she said, "I better get back. Padre will wonder where I've been, and the restaurant isn't closed yet."

I walked her back, and this time, I was the one who kissed her softly on the cheek, bending down a little so I could smell her hair and her skin. Then I turned and walked away. I looked back before I turned the corner, and she was still standing there, watching me go. When she saw me turn, though, she jumped as though to run inside. Then she smiled – even all the way down the block I could see her smile – and waved. I waved back, and headed home.

When Snitch and Skittery got back from what had evidently been a successful visit for Skitts, they asked what I had done all evening. "Not too much," I lied, "I just read a little. I was kind of tired." The two exchanged looks. "What?" I asked defensively.

"Nothing," Skittery replied, shrugging. Then he grinned mischievously. "Was Maria happy to see you?"

"Was – what?" I asked, sitting up quickly. Then I lay back down and smiled. "How did you know?"

"Please," Snitch laughed, "what else would you have been doing? The second we got to the Lodging House, everybody asked if that's where you were."

"Huh," I replied intelligently.

"So," Snitch dragged the word out, "Did anything happen?"

"Nothing you bummers need to be concoined about." As I turned on my side with a laugh, I realized that I had slipped into a New York accent without realizing. Apparently I was adapting to this life in more ways than I thought.

Koodles: thanks again for the line thing. You are just proving so useful to me. And I am so attached to Matthew, too. Mainly because, as you now see, he is Skittery. And I love Skittery so much for no apparent reason. If I can bear to give him up for any amount of time, you can borrow him. (hugs Skittery tightly, then sends him over to Koodles) Be kind to him while you have him! And remember he likes strawberry everything!

Smartass: My beloved faithful reviewer. I'm glad you liked that last chapter. It kept making me smile irrationally, but I wasn't sure what other people would think because, well, of course it made me happy, I wrote it! Yea, I love camp. It's just...wow, now I'm getting in a campy mood and I miss it. Again. I have got to stop doing this. And nobody picked up the hint about Matthew/Skitts. I think I enjoyed it way too much. Good luck with Chicago!