Hey everyone! This is a longer chappie for you. I hope you enjoy it. My story has 3 OCs. You have already met Jenna and now you will meet the next one in this chappie. Be on the look-out for the third. You've already had the hint at her character, it's meeting her that you'll want to look forward to. LOL. :) Notes.

Sarah Jade: First off, I LOVE the name Jade, I'm planning on naming one of my children that. LOL. Now that I've officially freaked you out I'll continue on with what I wanted to say. Yes, Jenna is a Racetrack lover, probably because I am. LOL. I just ADORE Racetrack. I hope you enjoy the story anyway, it seemed to me from your review that you ARE enjoying the story, I hope it stay that way. :)

Chapter 9

"Where ya goin', Racetrack?" Oscar said as Racetrack made his way to the distribution office the next morning.

"Ta get me papes, now move outta my way," he said fiercely, punching Oscar square in the face. The rest of the newsies just looked at each other questioningly, wondering what could have put Racetrack in such a bad mood.

"Race is in a bad mood this mornin'," Kid Blink whispered to Boots as he nodded in agreement.

"Who says I'm in a bad mood?" Racetrack asked as he suddenly appeared behind the two.

"Nobody's sayin' you're in a bad mood, Race," Kid Blink replied nervously.

"Ya just did, now what tells ya I'm in a bad mood?" he asked.

"Well, for one thing you've smoked a whole pack of cigarettes just this mornin', our supply's getting' low as it is," Boots chimed in.

"Well, maybe I like smokin'," he argued.

"Ya smoke more than the rest of us but never that much, we can't afford to smoke that much," Boots said.

"You only smoke a pack when you're upset," Mush said as he turned around to join the conversation, having overheard the majority of it.

"I ain't upset!" Racetrack shouted, pushing through the newsies to get his papers, not bothering to wait his turn in line. "Fifty papes!" He slammed a quarter down on the desk as Weasel rolled his eyes and handed him the papers. Racetrack marched off down the street as the rest of the newsies just stared in amazement.

Racetrack was normally one to just laugh of situations with a sarcastic joke or at least not blow up in everyone's faces. If Racetrack ever had a problem you hardly ever noticed, the only sign was how much he smoked. He loved cigars and cigarettes but could never afford many, so smoking a pack of cigarettes a day was too much, he usually only smoked three or four a day. This time he hadn't just smoked a pack in one day, he had smoked one just that morning. There was something obviously wrong, the problem was what.

"S-sorry," Jenna apologized as Racetrack brushed passed her, striking a match to light the last cigarette in his pack. She had basically been knocked out of the way and as he hurried off she looked wistfully after him but it was very disconcerting to her his attitude. He just didn't seem like himself. Usually he would have slapped her on the back and cracked some joke.

Nice, Race, nice. He scolded himself as he made his way down to the tracks.

How could I have been so stupid, just brushed right past her without sayin' a woid. Why in the world do I feel this way, why does Spot? I know the real reason he's stayin', otherwise he would have pulled out and gone back to Brooklyn. Gaw lee, she's so beautiful, I was a fool to think that no one else would be interested, 'specially Spot. I wonder if anyone else likes her. What am I gonna do?

Racetrack raked his hands through his hair as he pulled off his hat. This was his favorite place to go when he wanted to be alone, no one would disturb him here in the stable, only the man who took care of the horses came in and out, occasionally one of the horses' owners would swing by. Usually it was just Racetrack and the horses, his small paradise. All of the horses knew him because he stopped by at least once a week to talk to Tommy, their caretaker. Tommy had dirty blonde hair and clear blue eyes that seemed as if they were looking through you whenever he stared you down, that's what Racetrack liked about him. Tommy was always there when he needed him, he was always understanding, and he had this look that made Racetrack just want to tell him everything that was going on. The two would talk and enjoy a smoke in the barn and then Tommy would leave him along with the horses. Racetrack was seated on the bale of hay, bent over, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, when Tommy strolled through the door clad in his usual dirtied white shirt and overalls.

"Heya, Race, how ya-" he started, stopping when he saw the poor boy cent over on the hay bale, head in his hands. Racetrack looked up slowly to reveal his distressed face to the stable boy. His papers lay in a heap in the dirt beside him. "Ya wanna help me feed the horses?"

Feeding the horses always made Racetrack feel better, especially when Tommy would speak him a sugar cube to slip to his favorite horse Smokey. Smokey had a silvery tint to his coat and a long, flowing mane that Racetrack would spend hours brushing. He felt like a little girl, gushing out his problems to Tommy, getting excited over every little twitch the horses made. He didn't know exactly why Smokey was his favorite, but he had an idea. He saw a good deal of himself in him, like one minute you would have your eye right on him in the races, and the next he was gone, like not even your eyes were fast enough to catch him. Racetrack always disappeared from the rest of the newsies during the day to be either here or catching a small glimpse of the race. Selling papers was just a side note, though he was awfully good at it.

"Hey, ya got a light?" Racetrack asked Tommy as he poured some oats into Lightning's trough.

"You ain't gonna tell me, are ya?" Tommy asked with a sigh.

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Racetrack asked.

"Oh, come on, Race, you know 'sactly what I'm talkin' 'bout, ya can't feel me," he replied. Racetrack didn't answer, just moved on to the next horse's trough. "I ain't gonna give you a light 'til ya tell me."

"Well, there's dis goil," he sighed, finally giving into his extreme desire to smoke. Tommy looked stunned; this was new. Of all of the things he could have said, Tommy had never expected him to say "Well, there's dis goil" before. "Now can I have a light?" Tommy looked at him questioningly as he slowly pulled a box of matches out of his front overall pocket. "I'll tell ya everything if I can smoke, it relaxes me, oh, by da way, ya got a cigarettes too?" He looked ashamed as Tommy reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, handing one to Racetrack.

"Gaw lee, how many you smoked today, Race?" he asked as the boy struck a match against one of the horses' stalls and lit the cigarette. He inhaled deeply and sighed with pleasure as he exhaled smoke. It actually became pathetic when his only happiness was found in one measly cigarette. Usually he just smoked out of habit but when he found comfort in a cigarette he felt really low.

"'Bout a pack," Racetrack replied, shrugging as if it was no big deal even though it was.

"A pack?" Tommy repeated, shocked. "A whole pack? Race, you must really be lettin' this goil get to ya, you know ya can't afford ta smoke a pack a day."

"I know, I know," Racetrack agreed with a frustrating tone and a nod. "It ain't her though, it's Spot." He went back over to the hay bale Tommy had found him on.

"Spot, he's da leader of Brooklyn, right?" Tommy asked, trying to refresh his memory.

"Right, well-" he started.

"Wait, tell me 'bout the goil foist," Tommy interrupted. Racetrack smiled and his eyes suddenly attained a fogged over look. Tommy smiled as he watched Racetrack's features almost immediately change. It was at times like these when Tommy felt like an older brother since he was much older than Racetrack since he was only sixteen and Tommy was twenty-seven.

"Well, she's got this gorgeous red hair and, ah, her eyes are the most marvelous shade of blue and she's got dis smile, gosh, I don't know how to describe it, I can't even describe her very well, ya just, ya just gotta see her to know what I'm talkin' 'bout," Racetrack said dreamily, turning to Tommy. All Tommy could do was smile and sigh.

A love-struck Racetrack, dat's just what I need, he thought with a chuckle.