I held up my hands in surrender, showing that I had no weapons. Spot
lowered his slingshot. I looked over his shoulder at the other newsboys,
naming them off in my head.
Jack...Racetrack...Davvy...Specs...Skittery...Dutchy...Bumlets...Itey...Crutchy...and gasp Mush and Kid Blink! gasp Racetrack stepped forward and began circling me, looking me up and down. I glanced down at myself, as well, and suppressed a snicker. I was in what I like to call 'newsie mode.' I had on my whole newsie get-up. I had a grey newsboys hat, a pair of khaki capris, and a baggy, striped, button-up shoirt sorry, shirt. I shifted, uncomfortably, under Race's gaze.
"Well, she looks like a newsie," he announced, turning back to the others.
"But she's a goil!" Jack exclaimed. There was a murmur of agreement. That ticked me off. Before I knew what I was doing, I was up in his face, fists raised.
"'S'that s'posed tah ean, huh Cowboy?" I snarled, layin' on the New York accent. I have a bad habit of switching back and forth with accents. I cursed, realizing my mistake. I wasn't supposed to say 'Cowboy.'
"So, how d'ya know Cowboy, sweet thing?" Kid Blink asked. He was leaning against the wall, fingers curled around his belt, head tilted back, slightly, looking so good like only e can. I grinned. Kid Blink is one of my favorites, if ya know what I mean. (
"Oh, I knows all of ya, Blink!" I replied, cheerfully.
"So, who are you?" Davvy asked. I spat on my hand nd held it out to him. He shook it, but I could tell, somewhat reluctantly.
"Call me Two-Bits," I said with a grin.
"So, why d'they call ya that?" Bumlets asked. I gave him a wry smile.
"'Cause that's all the money I'se eva' got!" I exclaimed. "So..." I looked around the room, deciding who to address. The back of my mind was practically screaming Davvy! Pick Davvy! But my mouth had other plans.
"Spot!" I snapped, feeling very general-ish. He stepped forward, in all his Brooklyn glory, and took his hat off. At this, the other newsies seemed to remember their manners as well, and took off their hats, as well.
"Okay, first of all, we need to set some rules. One, you are not to take off your hats in my presence. I like your hats! You may take them off if you want to, but not because I'se a goil. However, if any of my friends come over, and believe me, you will at least meet two of them, you may take off your hats. Two, you are not allowed to smoke inside," I said, glaring, pointedly, at Racetrack. "I don't want you stinking up my house. Three, you MAY NOT talk to the neighbors directly to the left, right, or across the street. Ever. Second of all, how the hell did you guys get here?" Spot shrugged, apologetically.
"Not quite shoah!" I felt my knees weaken again. "Last ting I 'member is wewas soakin' some scabbas, and then the coppers came runnin' and blowin' them blasted whistles, and then I blcked out. Next ting I know, we'se all hea!" I nodded. Who knows how they could've gotten here. There were all sortsof possibilities, none of them reasonable.
"I'm hungry!" Itey piped up, suddenly. I grinned. All the other newsies let out a chorus of 'Me too!'s. I laughed. Unfortunately, we had no food. So, I decided to do something dangerous.
I ordered pizza.
Jack...Racetrack...Davvy...Specs...Skittery...Dutchy...Bumlets...Itey...Crutchy...and gasp Mush and Kid Blink! gasp Racetrack stepped forward and began circling me, looking me up and down. I glanced down at myself, as well, and suppressed a snicker. I was in what I like to call 'newsie mode.' I had on my whole newsie get-up. I had a grey newsboys hat, a pair of khaki capris, and a baggy, striped, button-up shoirt sorry, shirt. I shifted, uncomfortably, under Race's gaze.
"Well, she looks like a newsie," he announced, turning back to the others.
"But she's a goil!" Jack exclaimed. There was a murmur of agreement. That ticked me off. Before I knew what I was doing, I was up in his face, fists raised.
"'S'that s'posed tah ean, huh Cowboy?" I snarled, layin' on the New York accent. I have a bad habit of switching back and forth with accents. I cursed, realizing my mistake. I wasn't supposed to say 'Cowboy.'
"So, how d'ya know Cowboy, sweet thing?" Kid Blink asked. He was leaning against the wall, fingers curled around his belt, head tilted back, slightly, looking so good like only e can. I grinned. Kid Blink is one of my favorites, if ya know what I mean. (
"Oh, I knows all of ya, Blink!" I replied, cheerfully.
"So, who are you?" Davvy asked. I spat on my hand nd held it out to him. He shook it, but I could tell, somewhat reluctantly.
"Call me Two-Bits," I said with a grin.
"So, why d'they call ya that?" Bumlets asked. I gave him a wry smile.
"'Cause that's all the money I'se eva' got!" I exclaimed. "So..." I looked around the room, deciding who to address. The back of my mind was practically screaming Davvy! Pick Davvy! But my mouth had other plans.
"Spot!" I snapped, feeling very general-ish. He stepped forward, in all his Brooklyn glory, and took his hat off. At this, the other newsies seemed to remember their manners as well, and took off their hats, as well.
"Okay, first of all, we need to set some rules. One, you are not to take off your hats in my presence. I like your hats! You may take them off if you want to, but not because I'se a goil. However, if any of my friends come over, and believe me, you will at least meet two of them, you may take off your hats. Two, you are not allowed to smoke inside," I said, glaring, pointedly, at Racetrack. "I don't want you stinking up my house. Three, you MAY NOT talk to the neighbors directly to the left, right, or across the street. Ever. Second of all, how the hell did you guys get here?" Spot shrugged, apologetically.
"Not quite shoah!" I felt my knees weaken again. "Last ting I 'member is wewas soakin' some scabbas, and then the coppers came runnin' and blowin' them blasted whistles, and then I blcked out. Next ting I know, we'se all hea!" I nodded. Who knows how they could've gotten here. There were all sortsof possibilities, none of them reasonable.
"I'm hungry!" Itey piped up, suddenly. I grinned. All the other newsies let out a chorus of 'Me too!'s. I laughed. Unfortunately, we had no food. So, I decided to do something dangerous.
I ordered pizza.