Wow, y'all, I am so bad at regular updating. It's this ridiculous school thing that they keep making me go to. Anyway, here it is, folks. Better than last time, I hope.

Nearly a week passed before Annie saw the newsies again. Sundays always left her in a bad mood, and this particular one had been followed by several bad nights with her father; she was in no mood for a break from routine. However, the boys had different plans the Friday following Annie's visit to the Lodging House.

"So, whaddaya wanna do tonight?" Mush asked his apparently constant companions as they headed back to the Lodging House after a day of selling.

Race and Blink glanced up and shrugged. They walked in silence for a few more moments before Race suggested, "We could go visit Annie." Blink shrugged again, and Race said, "it don't seem like she does much, y'know? She should have fun more."

Blink looked up sharply, a broad grin on his face, and replied, "So she shouldn't be spendin' time wit you, den?"

Mush's laughter interrupted any comeback that Race could offer. After he had stopped laughing, Mush suddenly said, "I t'ink we should go visit Annie, too. Only, let's get Jack foist."

Race rolled his eyes and, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, shouted, "Why do you send me these do-gooders as my friends, God? You got some twisted sense o' humor."

"Hey, you're da one who said Annie 'should have fun more,'" Blink retorted, "Don't blame us.

"Even worse, dat must mean you're rubbin' off on me!" Race shuddered and brushed at his arms as though he could feel little germs of niceness invading his body.

Mush grinned, "Aw, c'mon, Race, bein' nice ain't all dat bad." He paused, then continued with a gleeful smile, "In fact, I t'ink it's quite nice."

Race and Blink stared at him, then Race broke the silence. "Dat was, quite possibly, da dumbest joke I've ever heard." Mush started to laugh. "No, I'se serious," Race insisted, "Dat was bad. Don't ever say anyt'ing like dat again."

By this time they had reached the Lodging House, and Mush stopped laughing long enough to say, "I'se gonna go see if Jack wants to come wit us to go see Annie. Since dat's what we seem to be doin' tonight."

Blink shook his head as Mush left, chuckling again, to head upstairs. Looking thoughtfully after him, he said, "Sometimes I worry about dat boy." Then he laughed and slapped Race on the back as the two of them followed Mush up the stairs.

When they reached the bunkroom, they saw an elated Mush talking to Jack. Mush waved them over as they walked in, saying, "Jack t'inks it's a great idea. 'E said 'e was goin' dis weekend anyway."

Jack nodded in affirmation, "Yea, I like 'er, an' I t'ink she likes us, too. An' she don't seem like da kinda goil to 'ave too many friends." Then, realizing how that had sounded, he corrected himself, "I mean, she seems kinda like a loner."

The other three nodded in agreement, then headed to their respective bunks to change quickly and get ready. Then they left together to find Annie.

OOOOO

Annie stared stonily ahead as she washed the dishes, ignoring the sobbing that occasionally issued from somewhere behind her in the otherwise empty apartment. At least, it seemed as though she were staring stonily ahead; a close observer would notice that her eyelids flickered and her muscles tensed nearly imperceptibly at every cry. Shouting was coming from outside, but Annie ignored that as well; at least, she did until realizing that the shouts took the form of her name.

"Annie!" "Annie, it's us! We dunno what apartment yer in, dough!" "Where da hell are you?"

Then, quieter, "What if she ain't 'ere tonight, guys?"

Annie listened for a while, an amused smile slowly growing on her face, then, with a long look over her shoulder, she bit her lip and dropped the dishes into the sink. She ran over to the window, stuck her head out, and yelled, "Oy! Over 'ere, dummies!" She grinned as four boys jogged around the side of the building. "What're you doin'?"

The boys exchanged embarrassed glances, before Jack spoke up. "We decided to come visit you," he said with his usual charm.

"Well, I guessed dat," Annie replied sarcastically, "I mean, what're you doin' runnin' 'round da apartment yellin' like a buncha drunks?"

No one answered as the four again shared looks of discomfort. Finally, Mush stepped forward, "Um, well, we got 'ere an' den we realized dat we don't actually know which 'partment is yours," he said sheepishly. "So we'se jus' tryin' to find you."

Annie tried to stop it. Really, she did. But she just couldn't help the laugh that exploded out of her, leaving her holding onto the window frame for support. The embarrassment on the boys' faces changed to mock-scowls as they waited for her to stop. "Alright," Race yelled, "are ya comin' or not? 'Cause if yer jus' gonna sit dere an' laugh at us, I t'ink we'se gonna leave."

"No," Annie replied, straightening up, "I'se comin'," she left the window, then returned briefly to say, "It's 32A, by the way." She rushed to her cot and pulled out the suitcase that lay under it. Opening it, she revealed that the suitcase served as a sort of closet/boudoir to hold her clothes. She quickly changed her wet, sudsy clothes, grabbed the shoes that lay next to the cot, and rushed out of the door, still pulling on her jacket. When she reached the street, she greeted the boys by running up behind them and shouting in Jack's ear. Everyone turned around, startled, then laughed as Jack attempted to turn his yelp of surprise into a greeting.

Jack grinned ruefully, "Alright, alright, stop laughin', ya bummers, or I'll soak you."

Race immediately stopped laughing, though his eyes danced with laughter. "Jack, you wouldn't soak Ahhh!—Annie, would you?" Annie, Blink, and Mush started laughing again, although Race managed, with supreme effort, to hold a straight face.

Jack looked at them for a moment, then said drily, "Yeah. Well. I'm jus' gonna go now. Follow me whenever you've decided to stop laughin'." He turned and walked away, and the other four, still laughing, stumbled after him.

After a while, Annie asked, "Where we goin', Jack?"

"Irvin' Hall," Jack answered casually, then, as he saw no answering comprehension on Annie's face, he explained, "It's dis vaudeville jus' down da road," he waved his hand in its general direction, "an' da woman who owns it – Medda – she's a doll. Always lookin' out fer us."

"An' she let's us 'ave it to ourselves one night a week," Blink added excitedly, "Says it keep us outta trouble."

"An' dat night," Jack finished, "is tonight. So, Miss Annie, would you care to accompany us to Irvin' Hall fer a night o' da finest entertainment dis 'ere city has to offer?"

Annie smiled and shrugged, "Sure. Not dat I seem to 'ave a choice 'ere." She raised her eyebrows as Jack offered her his arm, but she took it, then laughed and imitated him as Jack began pretending to be what he termed "one o' dose muckety-mucks."

The other three watched them, then Race offered his arm to Blink. Blink gaped at him for a moment, then took it and began to simper and giggle, all the while commenting on his "pretty, pretty dress." This, of course, distracted Jack and Annie, who watched in amazement. Mush followed them, doubled over with laughter, and in this way the quintet traveled to Irving Hall.

When they got there, Blink was swept away by a pretty blonde who was briefly introduced to Annie as "Blink's goil, Samantha." Anne gathered that she had come to Irving Hall to see if Blink was there and waited until he came. Annie was reintroduced to many of the newsies whom she had met the previous Saturday, as well as many she had not met. The boys were just as loud and obnoxious as the last time, but, somehow, Annie felt much more comfortable. She finally put it down to the fact that, this time, she was not the center of attention as the only girl in a roomful of boys. Now she was surrounded by girls – not nearly as many girls as boys, it was true, but enough of the girls were prettier than her to keep the boys' eyes off of her for the most part.

After about an hour of sitting at a table with Race, Mush, and Jack – and a couple of others whose names she couldn't quite recall, although she did remember that tall boy being referred to as Skittery, and she was pretty sure those twin girls had been introduced as 'Amanda and Miranda' – and a few dances with each one, Annie was startled to find that she was having more fun than she remembered having since, well, since forever. Elated, she smiled happily at Race, who answered with a grin of his own, then pulled her up for another dance.

Two hours later, Race was involved in a poker game, Jack had allowed himself to be persuaded that onstage with Medda was the place for him – "Surprise, surprise," one of the boys at their table had muttered to himself, "Jack's da center of attention again" – Blink was still off somewhere with Samantha, and Mush was sitting at the table, noting with some concern the pallor of Annie's skin and the slight trembling of her hand as she lifted her glass (of WATER, guys! No drunkenness!)

"Hey, you OK?" Mush asked, concerned.

Annie chuckled weakly, "You newsies always feel da need to ask me dat, don'tcha? But, in dis case, no, I'm not OK. I've never fainted before in my life, an' I don't plan to, but if I ever was gonna, I t'ink dis would be da time."

Mush nodded, "Yeah, it's pretty hot in 'ere," he stood up, "Let's get you outside."

Annie allowed herself to be led outside, where, after walking down the street for a little while, she seemed to feel better. "Thanks," she muttered, "It was hot, an' I guess I'm jus' not used to stayin' up so late. 'Sides, I've had a hard week." Inwardly, she cursed herself for showing weakness again. Why did these boys always catch her in the few moments when she let herself feel pain?

"Do you wanna go home?" Mush asked, "I could go in an' tell Jack an' dem for ya, den I could walk you."

A brief look of gratitude flashed over Annie's face before she answered sullenly, "You don't gotta. I knows da way home myself."

Mush looked slightly hurt, "I know ya do, but you're tired an' you don't feel well, an' dere ain't no way I'se lettin' you walk through New York alone at night. Now stay 'ere," he said firmly, running inside.

Annie didn't have to wait long before Mush returned, this time accompanied by a contrite-looking Jack. "I'se sorry, Annie," Jack said, "I shouldn't o' left you dere by yerself."

Annie began to get annoyed, as she always did when people tried to take care of her. "I'se fine, guys," she said, "I can take care o' myself." To prove it, she spun on her heel and began walking away.

Jack and Mush caught up to her easily, and they walked in silence all the way to Annie's apartment. Annie stalked up to the door and laid her hand on the handle, but paused before going in. She reflected on the fact that these boys had been nice to her, they had taken care of her only because they thought she needed it – not that she did, Annie reminded herself – and she had better be nice to them if she wanted to have fun like this again. She turned around and walked back down the steps. "Um, thanks," she said, not meeting their eyes, "I had fun."

She looked up quickly, then turned, almost frightened, to go inside. "Hey, Annie," she looked back to see Jack and Mush grinning at her, "We had fun, too," Jack said, "See ya later?" She smiled and nodded before opening the door. "Good night!" she called as she walked inside.

OOOOO

Sunday morning, Annie awoke with the standard "I hate Sundays" on her lips. Scowling, she got up, glancing tenderly at her father's still-slumbering form. She left him a note – the same note that she wrote every Sunday – telling him that she was going shopping and not to worry about her. Then she set off for the grocer's.

The little bell above the door dinged cheerfully as Annie walked in, and Annie glared at it. She glared, too, at the small boy laughing and playing outside, at the happy couple making their purchases, and at Katie's smile. "Well," Katie laughed, "it's nice to see you, too, Annie."

Annie's scowl faded as she said, "Sorry, Katie. It is nice to see you. I just –"

"Hate Sundays," Katie finished, "I know. Maybe if you did something besides mope around all day, you'd like them better."

"Oh, really?" Annie asked, picking up some carrots, "Like what?"

"Well, what did you do last night?"

Annie suddenly became utterly absorbed in the cabbage she was holding. "I stayed home with Da."

Katie rolled her eyes, "And the night before that?"

"Ha!" Annie said triumphantly, "I went out."

"Really?" Katie turned sharply on her friend, "Who with?"

"Some o' dose newsies."

"Newsies, huh?" Katie asked slyly, "Are dey nice? Handsome?"

"Yeah, dey're real nice. An' fun," Annie wrinkled her nose, "An' dey're not too hard on da eyes, eidder."

Katie laughed, "How did you meet them?"

"Ran into 'em a coupla times," Annie shrugged, "Been bummin' around wit 'em a bit ever since."

"Well," Katie said slowly, "Maybe you should find some o' them."

Annie looked at her in surprise. "Dey's sellin'! Dey gotta make money, too. Anyway, you know I don't like spendin' too much time wit anybody."

"I know," Katie said mirthlessly. Annie looked up sharply to meet Katie's sad gaze. "You used to," Katie continued, "Why don't you anymore?"

"People leave you," Annie said softly, "if you let 'em get to close."

"Annie, not everyone dies. Anyway, your mother didn't leave you. She –"

"I wasn't talkin' 'bout me mudder," Annie replied angrily, picking up her groceries and sweeping out.

After she had brought the groceries home and made lunch for her father, she left him another note – "Da, lunch is on the table. I am out for a walk." – and left. She wandered the streets, trying not to think about her mother, or her father, or her conversation with Katie. That didn't leave much to think about, so she focused on the people. Families. Always families on Sundays. A little girl walked between her parents, swinging their hands. A woman held her baby as her husband admonished their son not to run too far ahead. And, there on the corner, a lone newsboy stood selling his papers. Annie looked closer. That newsie looked very familiar.

She walked toward him, and he turned to offer her a paper. Then recognition lit up his eyes. "Annie!" he said in surprise.

"Heya, Race, how's it rollin'?"

"Not so good," Race took off his cap and wiped his forehead, then gestured toward the stack of unsold papers on the ground. "I hate Sundays."

"I hear ya," Annie agreed wholeheartedly. "Can I help?"

Race stared at her for a moment, then shrugged, "If you wanna." At her nod, he handed her ten papers, and told her "Go stand over dere an' jus' yell out da headlines. If dey're bad, tweak 'em a little. An' look as pathetic as you can."

Annie nodded. Having spent her life as a poor street urchin – it mattered not that she actually lived in an apartment – she knew how to deliver the right mix of pathetic and cocky. And Race, having spent much of his life in reading people and living among street urchins, could tell that she knew, so he offered no more explanation, instead turning to an approaching family and beginning to shout headlines.

After an hour or so, only four papers remained. "Here," Race said, "You take two an' I'll take two, an' we'll sell 'em on our way to lunch. Unless you've already eaten lunch?" Annie shook her head. "Good, then I'm payin'." Annie began to protest, but Race cut her off, "You just helped me sell my papes in half da time I normally would. I gotta pay ya back somehow."

This reasoning seemed sound to Annie, so she accepted the two papers and followed Race, looking for someone to sell the papers to.

Again, my reviewers are sadly diminished. Much thanks to those who have reviewed. And many kisses. And perhaps one of the chocolate with peanut butter chip cookies that I have just made for my friend's bday tomorrow (9-27) which is my bday also. Hurray! But only if she can spare one.

koodles: it's so nice to know that I will always have at least one rview. The ABCs were awesome, by the way. And cross country is rough. I just ran a meet this weekend and improved my time from 3 weeks ago by 2 seconds. I am not a happy camper. Er, runner.

Angry Princess: Since you have a good excuse and missed only one chapter, I'll forgive you. And, obviously, I didn't update soon. (Sorry, sososo sorry), but I did update. And hopefully will again soon. That sentence made no sense.