Author note: Good evening… Here is your beloved chapter

I was sitting in my room, once again sketching the first thing that came to mind. I loved to draw; it was one of my talents. After a few minutes, I heard the door open.

"Heya, Sage," came Scout's voice. I looked up and grinned,

"Hey, Scout." She walked in and sat at the end of my bed. She looked over at my sketching.

"Nice. So youse is a artist, right?" she asked. I shrugged,

"Guess so." She nodded,

"So, youse wanna go to Manhattan with me?" I looked up at her, and began to think it over.

"Will Spot be mad?"

"Oh don' worry 'bout Spot, he is gonna be sleepin for da rest of da day." I took a deep breath,

"Okay, I'll come." Scout grinned,

"Awesome! C'mon!" She yanked me off the bed, and literally dragged me out of the Lodging House. I couldn't help but laugh.

"So, how do youse like livin with me cousin?" she asked me.

"It's alright, I guess. He can be a bit aggravating, but tolerable."

"Dat's me cousin, always startin trouble."

"You favor him, you know?" Scout sent me an odd glance, and busted out laughing.

"How in da world do I favor him?" I shrugged,

"You act like him, and your short," I told her. She shoved her hands into her pockets,

"Well, dat ain't me fault, dat's me mudders," she said. She closed her eyes and began to whistle to herself. I couldn't recognize the tune, but it was relaxing.

We had made it to the Brooklyn Bridge, and she sped up. If I weren't mistake, she began to dance. Her feet moved rhythmically with the tune and she pulled her hands out of her pockets. I watched in awe.

She twirled around a few times, and stopped. I couldn't help but to clap.

"You should be an entertainer," I told her. She laughed,

"Yeah, right. People don't like me much."

"I don't see why, you're a nice person." She adjusted the cabby hat on her head, and rested her hands back into her pockets.

"I can be nice, but sometimes I can get aggravating."

"Just like your cousin," I said. She grunted,

"My cousin and I are two different people. He's got his bad ass look, and I have…" she trailed off.

"Nothing," she finished. I sighed,

"You know he's not all that bad. He did protect you."

"Yeah, only 'cause he feels sorry for me. After Danny died he tried to be a brotha to me."

"Danny is your little brother?" I asked.

"Yeah. I guess you wanna know 'bout me past, huh?" I smiled and nodded,

"Sure." Scout took a big breath and began.

"Well, youse see me and me little brotha is originally from Brooklyn, but we's left to go live in Manhattan. Our parents left us years before 'cause dey didn't want us, so I was never taught how to act all girly. So's we went to live in Manhattan and dat's where I met Jack. Me and him became good friends, and even got arrested togedder," she stopped and took a deep breath.

"So it was me, Danny, and Jack. Da three of us in da refuge for stealin some food. Well, before da strike, Jack escaped and left me and Danny there. Probably a while after da strike Jack ran off to da west, and Sarah, his girlfrien, got married 'cause she said she couldn't wait for 'em anymore," Scout sniffed, and continued.

"So's me and Danny were alone for some time in da refuge. Snyder, da warden, killed me brotha and I escaped to get revenge. I was gonna go back to Brooklyn, but I decided to stay and started ta sell papes with David and Les, until Jack came back for Sarah. He was actually surprised to see me, and extremely pissed when he heard dat Sarah got married." I waited silently for her to continue. She sighed deeply.

"So's we been togedder since den, being good friends and all. We ain't got a girl's room in da Lodging House, so I got a special room behind a bookcase. Snyder is out of jail now and is probably lookin for me 'cause I kicked his ass." She chuckled, and waited for me to reply.

"So you like Jack?" I asked. Scout's eyes turned wide, and immediately responded,

"What? No! Definitely not! Me and Jack is just friends." I rolled my eyes,

"C'mon, Scout. I can see right through you. You like him!" I smiled, and she blushed from embarrassment.

"Whateva youse say, Sage." I laughed.

"So, what's yer story?" she asked me. I gave her an odd look.

"Yer past? You wanna tell me 'bout it or what?" I sighed, and decided she was worth telling the truth to.

"Well, I'm not from Brooklyn, I'm from California. I use to live with my parents and my sister, Sam. When I was seven Sam drowned in our lake, and I still think it's my fault!" I began.

"On my ninth birthday my mother died from poison. I soon learned that my father had poisoned her, because they got into a fight. He was an alcoholic. So he was arrested, and sent to jail for murder. I was sent here, to Brooklyn, to live with my Uncle Bryan. We actually got along quite well for awhile, and I even attempted to learn to swim, but the memory of my sister drowning always scared me." I held back tears that wanted to fall, and continued.

"My uncle became a little crazy after awhile, and did something illegal-"

"What did he do?" Scout interrupted me.

"He murdered someone. He was very sneaky about it, and didn't even get busted. So I came to him one day just as he was plotting another attack. I tried to tell him what he was doing was wrong, but he lost his temper. He burned the house with people still in it and I got away, but he came after me-"

"Did he find you?" Scout asked. I rolled my eyes and sighed,

"Yes, he found me. I was hiding in some old couple's house, and he took me to a warehouse and locked me up in a dungeon underneath it-"

"And where does Spot come in this?"

"Can you quit interrupting me?" Scout hung her head and muttered a "sorry." I continued.

"Anyways, I was in the dungeon for three months, my uncle's goons feeding me from time to time. Then one day they never showed up. I starved for five days, until someone opened the door. And what do you know…it was Spot-"

"How did he get in?" I sent Scout a glare, and she smiled innocently.

"He found the key to the door before the strike. One of the goons must have lost theirs. And now I'm here, living with the Brooklyn newsies." Scout took a moment to sink in the last bit of information.

"Whoa, I'm sorry ta hear," she finally said.

"I'm just glad I'm finally out of that stupid dungeon," I told her.

"Whachya goin ta do if youse ever meet up with yer uncle again?" Scout asked me.

"Kill him," I said matter-of-factly. Scout must've taken it as a joke, because she began to laugh hysterically.

"Oh, yeah, wouldn't that be something, "Man Killed by His Crazed Niece," would flood the papes. Den we won't hafta lie 'bout da headlines," Scout said in between fits of laughter. I shrugged,

"Wouldn't matter to me, just as long as he's dead," I told her. Scout took a deep breath to calm herself down.

"Wow, youse really know how ta crack me up."

I wonder how funny it'd be if she knew that I wasn't joking, I thought to myself. On second thought, maybe I should just keep that information to myself.

We finally reached Manhattan.

"Now youse get to meet all of da Manhattan newsies!" Scout said, as if she were lifting my spirit.

"Great," I said sarcastically. We were greeted by Scout being tackled to the ground from behind by Jack.

"Jack…Getoifdne!" Scout tried to say.

"What?" Jack asked.

"I said get off me!" Jack laughed, and stayed put.

"No, I don't wanna."

"Can't…breathe…" Scout managed to say. Jack rolled his eyes,

"Alright, alright." He pushed himself to his feet and held his hand out for Scout. She pushed it away and got up by herself.

"I'm a big goil, I can do it meself," she told him. Jack laughed and turned to me,

"Heya, Sage!" I smiled,

"Hey, Jack. How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Pretty damn good," he responded, putting a cigarette into his mouth. Scout rolled her eyes, and I just smiled. Jack puffed out smoke from his mouth.

"So, what're you ladies up to?" he asked.

"I'm showin Sage 'round Manhattan," Scout told Jack.

"Why? There ain't much to see. Now Santa Fe, you can show her 'round dere. Its da most beautiful place eva, and dat's da truth!" Scout sighed and shook her head,

"Santa Fe, this, Santa Fe that…" she teased him. Jack rolled his eyes,

"I'll take youse there one day, and yer gonna love it!" I laughed, and turned to Scout.

"So, the tour?" I reminded her.

"Oh, yeah. C'mon! Are youse comin too Jack?" Jack seemed to be thinking this over, and then nodded. Scout grabbed my arm and pulled me along.

"So, dis is Manhattan," she said, spreading out her arms in front of her. I scratched my head and turned to Jack.

"What a tour," I whispered. He busted out laughing, and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth.

"Maybe youse would like ta be a bit more specific, Scouty," Jack said. Scout sent Jack a glare,

"Don't call me that!" she demanded. Jack grinned,

"How come?" he asked.

"Because it's childish," Scout replied. Jack shook his head,

"So?"

"So's I'm not a child." She turned towards me,

"Hungry?" I smiled and nodded, remembering the last time I had eaten was yesterday, at lunch time.

"Good, I'll take ya to Tibby's!" We walked to a small restaurant. It was nice looking inside, and my mouth was watering when I smelt food.

The three of us took a seat beside the window, and Jack yelled for a waiter. The waiter, who seemed to be just two or three years older than me, sent Jack a glare and walked over. He sighed in frustration and asked us what we wanted.

"Let's see, what's good here?" Jack asked. Scout laughed,

"Youse eat here everyday, Jack." Jack shrugged,

"So? Not like I can remember what dey soive." I laughed at his silliness, and ordered whatever it was that Scout ordered. As for Jack, well, he was having fun annoying the waiter.

"Let's see," he began to read off the paper in front of him.

"Hmm, this looks good…I think I'll take it. Nah, this looks even better. Wait, how 'bout dis…Nah, too expensive." The waiter rolled his eyes, and growled.

"Will you please just order, sir?"

"Hey, don't rush me!" Jack told him. Scout and I started to laugh, earning a glare from the waiter.

"I think I wanna try dis," he showed the waiter what it said, and he scribbled it down on a piece of paper.

"Wait, no, never mind. I don't want that." The waiter aggressively marked out what he had written, and glared at Jack.

"I think I want dis one…wait, no, dat gave Blink a stomach ache…" Jack put the paper on the table and looked up at the waiter,

"I think I'll just have what dey have," he said, nodding towards us. The waiter picked up the paper and stormed off.

I think I like Manhattan.