I felt Jazz roll out of bed. I heard her bare feet hit the pineboard floor, and I heard her gasp just before she shook me awake. "Lida! Lida, wake up!"

"No," I groggily pulled the covers up over my head, "Let me sleep, Jazz."

"Dammit, look," she ripped the covers off of the bed. Cracker woke up enough to reach for the sheet and cover herself again. I tried to do the same. "LIDA!"

"Ugh, what?" I sat up and started to give her a death stare. I stopped when I realized that we weren't in Jazz's room. We're still in the lodging house.

The look on my face must have told her what I was thinking, "Yeah, still here. I thought I was dreaming."

"Me, too," I tried to look around, but my eyes were still adjusting to the bright sunlight streaming in through the curtainless windows, "Best dream I ever had."

"Punch me."

I blinked and looked at her for a moment, "Don't you mean 'pinch'?"

She shook her head, "No. Punch me. Pinching's too cliché."

I drew back my fist, remembered the time I gave her a bloody nose in elementary school, and thought better of it, "I don't wanna. Do something to CJ." Cracker was always the victim of our practical jokes and experiments. I saw no reason to end that then.

Jazz nodded and suppressed a giggle as she climbed over me and pushed Cracker. She hit the floor with a resounding thud. "OW! What was that for," she sat up, but didn't seem to notice where we were. Either that or she didn't care.

"Jazz was seeing if one of us was dreaming."

"Well how does pushing me out of bed test whether or not one of you two is dreaming?"

Jazz and I looked at each other. We managed to hold straight faces for two seconds before we burst out laughing, "I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time." Cracker scowled at us for a moment, and then looked around the room. She grinned widely.

"No dream," she took another glance, "I hoped this was real. Isn't it awesome?"

"Yeah, except we don't know where we are, how we got here, or how to get back."

Jazz stood silently for a moment. Then she said, "You're right. But I don't really care. All I know is that we're in Newsies, and I wanna be a newsie."

"I suppose there isn't anything else we can do. Let's get ready and get to The World." We started putting on the skirts and such that Ducky and the girls had given us the night before. The girls were getting up and making their way to the bathroom now, and their soft voices seeped through the door. Trolley was telling another girl how to make big tips, and Tooey grumbled something about lousy headlines. Today's the eighteenth. "Hey," Jazz and Cracker froze and looked at me, "the strike starts tomorrow."

"Ooh! Do you think they'll really sing about it?"

I shrugged, "I dunno, maybe. It would be awesome if they did, though."

"Cool! Let's be newsies so we can strike tomorrow."

I smiled, "And sing?" She's the only person I know who can be childish and not be annoying.

"Yeah," she continued to button her blouse, and I helped Cracker with her dress.

"If the strike starts tomorrow, does that mean they're singing Carryin' the Banner right now?"

Cracker beamed, "Oh that'd be so awesome to see! We could even watch Jack mess with the Delanceys."

"And maybe one of us is the girl Mush met last night," Jazz giggled and looked at me, "Eh, Lida?"

"Yeah, you two sure did smile a lot-"

"At each other-"

"And he even tipped his hat when he left."

"So," I was unsuccessfully trying to fix my hair and didn't notice them staring at me, "he was just being polite."

"Polite or not, you two were making eyes," Jazz smiled cheesily and batted her eyes at me. "Having trouble?" I still couldn't get my hair up. I'm not much good at doing girly things anyway, and you teasing me about Mush isn't helping matters any.

"Here," Cracker came over and ran her fingers through my hair like a brush, "I'll part it and you can just leave it down." She ran her fingers back through my hair and made a decent part down the middle, "There," she twirled the end of my hair around her finger, "I wish I had pretty auburn hair like yours." She reached for her own straight black hair and looked at it dismally, "I hate my hair. I can't do anything with it." Her dark Puerto Rican eyes focused the hair for a moment, "Pelo negro estupido."

I turned and touched her hair, "Que bonito. I wish I was ethnic."

She smiled half-heartedly and directed her gaze back to my long, slightly curling hair and sighed, "If you leave it like that it'll get tangled. Put this in it," she undid the bow on the bodice of her dress and handed it to me. I pulled the front and top of my hair back and tied the white ribbon into a bow around it. "Ready," Cracker reached for the door.

I took a few steps and remembered that we would need to buy papers. "Money," I grabbed a handful of change out of my pillowcase, "I'll get our papers."

"No," Cracker reached into her pillowcase, "you paid for the room last night. I'll get our papers."

"Ok, but we need to get our own clothes. Do you guys wanna go tonight?"

"Sure," she tugged at her sleeve, "I won't feel so bad about borrowing this stuff if we give it back right away."

"Um, I don't have any money," Jazz stood by the door with a slighlty concerned look on her face, "It was all at my house."

"Rose and I'll spot ya. It's not like we don't have enough."

"Are you sure? Because I don't want you to feel like you have to give me money."

"Why not," I handed her a dollar bill, "You'd help us out if we were stranded in 1899 without any money, wouldn't you?

Jazz's expression brightened, "Of course I would! Let's go see us some dancing newsboys!"

"Okey-doke. I'm taking my marbles," I tied the little brown pouch around the black sash/belt thing that Ducky gave me with her skirt. It felt funny, and I'm sure it looked funny, too, but I figured it wouldn't be so funny if I had to wallop somebody with them, and I insisted that Jazz and Cracker take theirs, too. After our marbles were secure, Cracker and I each took a wad of money from our sacks and headed out the door.

We met Puck and Riley on the steps, and walked to the corner with them. They assured us that we were heading in the right direction and offered to come along and show us the ropes. We told them that we had a pretty good idea of what we were doing, and that, if we had to, we could ask a newsie for help. They wished us luck and went on their way. This was it, we were on our own, looking for The World's distribution center, and hoping that there would still be a few lingering newsboys nearby.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Horace Greeley stood out in the center of the street. Cracker saw the statue first and ran to it. After marveling at Mr. Greeley for a few moments, we turned toward the distribution center. There it was, in all its glory, with the gate standing open and a few straggling newsies getting their morning papers. I glanced sideways at Jazz, she nodded, and we all marched silently up the ramp to wait in the paper line. Cracker handed me her money, "You do it. I'm too nervous."

"Of what," I held the money out to her, "Just give Weasel the money and tell him how many papers we want."

She pushed my hand back towards me, "But he's so mean, and I don't know how many to get."

"Well, there's three of us, and we've never sold papers before so let's start small," I was still holding the money out for her to take. She looked at me as if I were asking her to run into a burning building for no reason, "Ok, I'll do it. How many do we want?"

"Let's get a hundred and see how many we sell," Jazz jumped up and down like a little kid, "I bet I can sell more than you."

"Coming from the girl with no money. Let's just get, like, twenty apiece. How's that?"

"NEXT," Weasel bellowed. I stepped forward. He looked at me and, without softening his tone, asked, "How many?" I turned back to Jazz and Cracker, who both nodded and waved for me to turn around. "Come on, Girly, I ain't got all day."

"Sixty please," I laid thirty cents on the counter.

Weasel glowered at me and turned to Morris, "Sixty for da lady." Morris counted out sixty-two papers and slammed them onto the counter. He winked at me as the girls stepped forward to divide them. God, he's disgusting.

"Heya, Sweet Face. Ain't seen ya 'round here before," Oscar sidled up to the window, grinning.

"Nothing sweet here for you," all three of us girls hissed at him simultaneously. He jumped back. If looks could kill, he'd have been dead five times over. A couple of boys in line behind us snickered. Oscar, Morris, and Weasel all shot them equally deadly stares. The boys straightened their line and stood quietly, trying to suppress their smiles. Jazz quickly picked up twenty of the papers and handed them to me. She divided the remaining papers in half and handed a stack to Cracker. Then she abruptly went down the steps and led us out onto the street. I stopped her just outside the gate.

"What was that about just now?"

She looked back, "I dunno. I just didn't want to make any more of a scene."

Cracker laughed, "We sure told them didn't we?" She elbowed Jazz in the side, "Too bad the newsies weren't there to see it. We'd have been automatically initiated."

"Yeah," her expression brightened, "I wish they'd have been there, that was classic."

"Let's check the headlines," I handed Cracker my papers and examined the front page. Jazz headed for Horace Greeley and sat down. Cracker and I joined her and began browsing through the morning World. I chuckled, "Look here: 'Baby Born with Two Heads'"

Jazz started to giggle, "Must be from Brooklyn."

Cracker smacked Jazz's arm, "You are such a dork!"

"Actually, it is from Brooklyn," I leaned over to Cracker and pointed to the article, "See? '…a child born to Mrs. John Neely of Williamsburg...' I went there last time I was in the city.

"Ha! How ya like them apples," Jazz nudged Cracker triumphantly. We all started to laugh.

"Lida Rose," a voice called from across the street. We looked up and saw Mush running in our direction, followed by Blink. They removed their hats and smiled as they got closer. We stood up and brushed ourselves off. "Nice ta see ya again," Mush dropped his papers and looked us over, "Y'all look much bettah in ladies clothes." We stood in a kind of semi-awkward silence for a few seconds until he motioned towards Blink, "Dis is Kid Blink, but most folks just call 'im Blink." Blink smiled and nodded. Mush continued, "An, dis is Lida Rose, an'..." he stopped and thought for a moment, "Jazz…an'…Crackah Jacks."

Blink held out his hand, "Ladies." We all shook hands. He turned to Mush, "Ready?"

"Yeah," they shouldered their papers and started to leave. Mush stopped and turned back, "Say, you goils wanna come wit us? We'll show ya da ropes."

Jazz nudged me. "Sure," I smiled and grabbed my papers. Jazz and Cracker hurried ahead with Blink, practically leaving me alone with Mush. "Any good headlines," I scanned the front page. The only thing that stood out was 'Trolley Strike Drags on for Third Week'. Some headline.

"No, not really," he glanced over at Blink, who was busy looking for a headline as well. "But ya always gotta remembah," he looked up at me and shook his finger, "Headlines don't sell papes, newsies sell papes." He opened up the paper and started walking. "Here," he stopped and showed me the article about a fire on Ellis Island, "'Trash Fire Near Immigration Building Terrifies Seagulls.' Now dat ain't a very good headline, but if ya change it up a little, it works real good. What can ya say instead?"

Figures, he gives me an easy one first. Oh well, here goes. I took a few steps away from him, cleared my throat and held up a paper, "Ellis Island in flames! Thousands flee in panic!" Several men ran up and bought papers. I continued, "Big conflagration on Ellis Island! Read the story!" I walked back to Mush, "How was that?"

"Not bad," he smiled and turned to another page, "How 'bout dis one?"

The headline read: 'Midtown Woman Reports Stolen Laundry'. The article continued with a short story about someone stealing two pairs of stockings, a pair of men's suspenders, and a pair of small boy's pants from the rooftop of an apartment building. That's a bit strange. I stepped away from him again and took a deep breath, "Family robbed in broad daylight. Personal items lost to crooks!" People rushed to buy my last nine papers. One man even gave me a four cent tip. Selling papes rocks.

Mush strode over to where I was standing. "You'se a natural. I never seen a foist timah sell 'em dat quick. I just might have ta give ya some of my papes ta get rid of."

"Thanks," I held out my arms, "If you want some help, I'd be glad to."

He shook his head, "Nah, I'll do alright. Blink an' me still got a lot ta show you three anyways."

Blink, Jazz, and Cracker joined us. They were all almost out of papers. Apparently Blink didn't mind having girls do his work for him, because Jazz and Cracker each handed him money once they had stopped and were standing with us. We talked for a little while and decided to head for Central Park. Mush hollered headlines as we went, and soon he was down to his last few papers. Blink wandered off with a girl somewhere near 8th Avenue, so the four of us went on without him and spent the rest of the morning in the park. Mush gave us advice on how to sell certain headlines (lie) and what to do when you don't have change (run like hell). Blink showed up again a little past noon, and we made our way back to the Bowery for the evening papers.

Back at the distribution center Mush and Blink introduced us to the rest of the guys. One of the younger newsies, Marbles, had been there that morning and told everyone about the Delancey incident. Crutchy howled, "If Jack had seen dat he'd a kissed ya for it. Too bad we all missed it." Dutchy and Bumlets agreed with him, and Specs added that he hoped something like it would happen again.

The circulation bell rang. We went through the gates like a herd of cattle and lined up on the ramp. "No Race yet," Jazz whispered disappointedly, "I really wanted to see Race."

"We'll meet him tomorrow," Cracker put her arm around her shoulder, "He went to the tracks today, remember?"

"Yeah, but I really wanted to see Race."

"Itey's here. He's your favorite, isn't he?"

"Yeah," she sighed, "But I really wanted to see Race. He'd have thought that was funny, too."

"Well hello, ladies," Weasel glared at us from behind the barred window, "How many for you this fine afternoon?"

I laid a dime on the counter, "Twenty." Morris set them up for me and looked at Jazz. She laid a dime on the counter, as did Cracker. The Weasel-Delancey trio silently set out their papers. As soon as we were clear of the stairs, Weasel bellowed to move the line along and resumed the usual berating of newsboys that we all know him for.

Mush was waiting outside the gate. "I'm goin' ta da fact'ry district. Everybody'll be gettin' off soon. Ya wanna come?"

"Um, sure, but we have to be back by five. We have some things to take care of."

"We should be done by then. I don't got many papes anyways."

Crutchy came out of the distribution center with Itey, "You goils wanna come wit us dis afternoon? We'll show ya how it's really done." He jabbed Mush's arm and smiled.

"Well, we were going to go with Mush," Cracker hesitated, "But maybe tomorrow we can go together."

"No, you goils go wit dem," Mush waved his hand at Itey and Crutchy, "I had ya ta myself almost all day."

"We can split up," Cracker thought for a moment, "I mean, there's three of you and three of us, we can all go with you."

"Yeah," Jazz interjected, "Lida can go with Mush, Jacks can sell with Crutchy, and I'll go with Itey. That way we'll all get to know each other."

I rolled my eyes. Of course I end up with Mush and she gets Itey. "We still need to be back here at five."

"Done."

"Done."

"Works for me."

"Ok. Let's go."

I turned to Mush. "So?"

He grinned, "Poifect."

###################################################################

Mush and I headed back into the Bowery after an hour of selling papers and another roaming the East Side of Manhattan. He walked a little ahead of me, acting as a tour guide, and every now and then he'd stop and point out some small oddity or tell a story.

Itey and Jazz met us near Broome Street. He hollered and waved when he saw us, "What're ya doin'? Ya wanna go see a show?"

"Sure. Ya wanna, Lida?"

"Ok. Where are we going?"

"Irving Hall, right down da street."

We continued down Broome Street and entered Irving Hall. The man at the door asked us each for a nickel and pointed us in the direction of the balcony. We found some seats and waited for the show to start. The first act was a ventriloquist, followed by a comedy act, and then a guy with a guitar came out and sang. "Let's get outta here. You goils should be meetin' Crackah soon." Mush stood and offered me his arm. Just before we exited the balcony I heard the emcee introduce Medda. Jazz heard him too, and we both turned in time to see her step onstage in that purple dress.

When we got back to Horace Greeley, Crutchy and Cracker were already waiting for us. We told the guys goodnight and thanked them for showing us the ropes before we turned to leave. "Wait," Itey grabbed Jazz's wrist, "Can I talk to ya real quick?" They went far enough away that we couldn't hear what they were saying but, when they kissed, we got the general idea.

Jazz came back over to where Cracker and I were standing. Cracker grinned at her, "What was that? You know a guy for three hours and you're kissing him already?" She sighed, "Jazz, Jazz, Jazz."

Jazz blushed slightly, "He's really sweet. And it's not like I don't know him, I've seen the movie, like, a thousand times."

"Seeing the movie has nothing to do with knowing him. He's not in the movie enough to get to know him."

"Yeah, but he's really sweet. And he's a Disney character, so it's not like he'll be evil or anything."

"Whatever, let's just clarify the fact that you don't know him and I think you're crazy."

"Fine." Jazz pushed past us, "Can we go now?" She quickly turned the corner.

Cracker darted after her, "Come on, Rose! We'll lose her."

She's waiting for us just out of sight. I looked over at the guys. Mush and Crutchy were patting Itey on the back and messing with his hat. That's so cute, they're celebrating. Mush saw me and smiled. I smiled back before rounding the corner and finding Jazz and Cracker waiting. "Shall we?" They nodded and we headed out in search of clothing.

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Thank you ever so much for reading chapter 3! I know it was long and took forever for me to put out, but wasn't it worth it? (total silence, save for a few crickets chirping) Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. (a single cough joins the crickets) I'm sorry! I was SO busy that I just didn't have time to work on it. You loved it, I know you know you know you did. You just don't want to admit it…but do it anyway! Send me a review!

Please R&R! Getting your reviews makes me very very happy! Almost as happy as meeting Aaron…almost.

Just remember not to send any flames, I don't mind constructive criticism, but flames are like missing the bus home and having to wait three hours for the next one. It sucks.

SOs to all who sent reviews for the last chappy! I "heart" you!