Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, Empress of the World, or and other media references I may make.
Emperor of the World
June 16th, 6:30 am, Specs's and My Room
I woke up this morning for my run, which I do at least twice a week. Passing my door when I am closing it is Skittery.
"Morning," he says. I notice, happily, that he is wearing Adidas track pants and a sport shirt.
"Going for a run?" I guess.
He nods and smiles. "You too?"
"Yeah."
We enter the courtyard. Skittery does a few quick stretches that are mostly legs and I follow his lead. Simultaneously we begin to jog.
"I run track at school," Skittery tells me.
This makes sense, Skittery has long legs and an athlete's build.
"Me too, but long distance."
We don't speak for a few seconds. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. His hair is moving slightly with every bounce in his step and a few beads of sweat are forming on his forehead. I'm very sure that I am turning red, Skittery, however, is looking refreshed, like he just went for a swim.
"I do sprints," he says after a while.
"Oh," I grin. "Wanna race?"
"To where?" he asks, looking around.
"The top of that hill," I shout, taking off before him, putting me a good six feet in the lead. Halfway up the hill I can hear his footsteps behind me, crunching on the ground. By the time I reach the top he is far ahead of me.
Skittery smiles. "I should have given you more of a head start."
I laugh and together we make our way down the other side of the hill.
Curving around it is a shallow river. It is maybe only four feet in width, but the water is clear and the bottom looks mostly sandy.
Skittery sits down and takes his shoes off.
"What are you doing?" I ask, bemused.
"Wading," he answers simply, rolling up his pants to his knees and stepping in. he flinches slightly but regains himself and grins. "The water's great!" he exclaims.
I shake my head. "No way, I saw the look on your face," I say.
"Aw, c'mon Dutchy," he coaxes. He is up to his ankles in water. Lifting one foot slowly he splashes me.
"Skittery, cut it out," I say, half-laughing.
He splashes me again.
I pull my shoes and socks off and step in.
"Shit, Skittery, it's cold," I exclaim upon contact.
Skittery laughs. "Yeah, I know. My feet are going to be blue."
I splash him. He splashes me.
I fall down, right on my butt.
"This is the most uncomfortable thing ever," I say in regards to my landing which has placed me between two large rocks. "I think my ass is stuck."
Skittery reaches down to help me up. I pull him down.
Soon we are both covered in water.
Skittery splashes me one last time before standing up and pulling off his sopping shirt.
"You should take your off too—" he says.
I get that lurching feeling again.
"—you might catch something."
I blink and nod. I stand up and pull my shirt over my head. Skittery drapes his over his shoulder and slips his shoes on without socks. I pick mine up and together we walk back up the hill and to out dorms.
"See you at breakfast," says Skittery before going into his room.
"Yeah," I give him a half wave. "See you."
June 16th, 8:30 am, Business Marketing and Publicity Theory Classroom
"Is there a reason you're so blue?" is the first thing Racetrack says upon seeing me.
I nod though I don't elaborate. Racetrack shrugs and opens his textbook. Behind me a couple of boys are whispering. One of them taps me on the shoulder. He has an odd moustache and a bowler hat on.
"Have fun with your boyfriend?" he asks me.
Confused, I turn back around and ignore him.
Racetrack shoots me a look and I shrug.
They tap me again.
"What?" I hiss, turning around again.
"You know who I'm talking about, the tall one. In the river..."
I glare at the boy. "He's not my boyfriend."
They laugh at the same time.
"Sure he's not," says the clean-shaven one, disbelievingly.
"I was running," I say defensively.
The boy shakes his head and turns to the other one. "Hear that Morris, they're just friends."
Morris laughs.
Racetrack has turned around now. "What's the problem?" he asks.
Morris shakes his head innocently. "Nothing, nothing. Just talking to your friend here."
The other boy ignores Race a turns to me. "Gonna take him down to the river too?" he asks, winking.
"What the hell is going on?" asks Racetrack forcefully.
The boy smiles. "You know that Blondie here is quite the man's man."
Racetrack narrows his eyes.
"He lures them down to the river and has his way with them," he laughs.
Morris nods. "Bit of a fag, this one," he says loudly, causing a few people to look up.
Racetrack stands up and grabs Morris by the shirt collar. "What did you call him?" he asks, brandishing his fist.
Morris swallows. "I said..."
"He's a fag," finishes the other boy for him.
Despite himself Morris laughs. Racetrack drives his fist into his stomach. I just watch stupidly. The other boy takes to taunting me.
"Bet your loving this, some sort of fantasy, eh? Two guys fighting on the ground for you..."
The words begin to sink in and in a matter of seconds I am on top of him pounding at his face. He is screaming like a girl.
"What in ruddy hell is going on in here?"
June 16th, 9:15 am, Professor Denton's Office
Racetrack and I are sitting on the stiff wooden desk in front of Professor Denton's desk. He is teaching a class right now, prolonging our sentencing.
"Why'd you do that?" I ask Racetrack after a few seconds.
He doesn't answer for a while, making it seem as if he hasn't heard me.
"Racetr—"
"Hold on, I'm thinking about how to put this."
I wait.
Race clears his throat. "My boyfriend and I hate guys like that."
I stare at him for a minute, trying to figure out if he's serious. He doesn't laugh or smile so I conclude that he must be.
"Oh," I say after a prolonged silence. "Oh."
Racetrack nods slowly. Then he smiles. "You're not, are you?"
I shake my head.
This time he says, "Oh."
I laugh nervously.
He coughs quietly and shifts in his seat. "So...what were you doing in the river?" he asks.
I blush. "Nothing. I was just on a run."
He smiles.
"Just a run," I insist.
He nods. "Sure Dutchy, just a run."
June 16th, 12:00 pm, The Cafeteria
"You have to what?" asks Jack in disbelief.
"Switch classes," I repeat.
Medda sighs melodramatically, twirling an unlit cigarette around in her fingers.
"So...what are you switching to?" asks Isabel after a moment.
I shrug.
Skittery hasn't said anything since I told them why I have to switch classes. He seems uncomfortable that it had to do with him.
Across the room I see Racetrack, sitting alone, eating his lunch. He looks up and catches my eye. I smile.
Specs follows my gaze. "Who's that?" he asks.
I look back to our table. "That's Racetrack," I say.
Isabel looks over. "Invite him over!" she says cheerfully.
When I don't move she jumps up and walks over to him.
In a matter of seconds Racetrack is smiling and has picked up his tray. They walk over and Jade shifts over to make room.
"Hi," says Racetrack awkwardly.
Everyone introduces themselves. Last, of course, Jade.
"So...Racetrack," says Medda slowly, still twirling her cigarette. "Where are you from?"
I realize she didn't even ask us that.
"Um..." Racetrack picks up his fork. "New York City."
Medda smiles. "I'm from good ole Washington DC."
"Specs and I are from New York, too," I tell everyone.
Jack and Jade are from Santa Fe, Isabel is from Chicago, and Skittery is from Dallas. Racetrack lives in Queens. His boyfriend lives in Brooklyn.
"So, Racetrack, what class are you switching to?" asks Skittery to make conversation. "Dutchy doesn't know."
This is the first time he's said my name all meal.
Racetrack shrugs. "I don't know, but it's not a huge loss being kicked out of Business Marketing and Publicity Theory." He laughs bitterly.
"You guys should take up judo," says Jack, jokingly.
Medda laughs roughly. I roll my eyes.
"Maybe I'll do World History," I say, thoughtfully.
Isabel laughs. "Great, you'll go from doing something boring, but admittedly useful, to doing something boring and completely useless," she says, jokingly.
"Hey, those who don't know history are doomed to repeat it," I say defensively.
Isabel rolls her eyes. I laugh.
Later, when we are cleaning up the table Racetrack finds his way beside me.
"Which one is he?" he asks quietly.
"Who?" I ask, confused.
"The one by the river, which one?"
"Oh," I point discreetly at Skittery. "Skittery."
Race nods. "If you were gay, I'd say good choice."
End Chapter
((There's chapter three, I'd say I updated pretty quickly...I hope. Anyways, review please!))
Shoutouts:
Eagle Higgins-Conlon
Nakaia Aidan-Sun
Madison Square: sorry about the rewrite, I just didn't like how the other one was going. This will be better.
Jacky Higgins: you should read the book, it's really good. And she's writing a sequel!