"So, what do they call you?"

"Evelyn P--" she stopped herself, realizing who she was talking to, though he had no clue.

"Evelyn P?" The boy laughed; he wasn't used to rich girls stuttering... though he wasn't used to rich girls at all, really.

"I'm sorry. I'm used to reciting my whole name." She smiled secretly to herself. "Evelyn Patricia Harris." She curtsied in good humor, grinning up at him. "Evie for short. What do they call you?"

"Kid Blink. Blink for short." He batted his good eye at her in a demonstration as to why that was his name. He led her down a street to avoid both the lodging house and Tibby's, the Manhattan newsies' restaurant of choice. His fellow newsies weren't going to see him with a girl like this, at least not yet. "Well, Evelyn Patricia Harris, how is it that you ain't got someone waiting at home for you?"

Evie laughed. "I do, but just the housekeepers..."

"Just the housekeepers." Blink smirked. "What about your folks?"

She sighed quietly. "They're in London, will be until late September, early October. For now, it's just me and the staff of the house... and my grandfather when he comes to check in on me."

"You don't seem to happy about it."

"I'm not, really, I miss my parents, and my grandfather has the tendency to be an ass, and a little psychotic." Evie rolled her eyes and sighed. "What about you? What about your family, aren't they waiting at home for you?"

Blink grinned. "Only family I got ain't blood. If I'm late getting' home, it's nothin' to worry about." As she eyed him in confusion, he laughed lightly. "I live in the Newsboys Lodging House. We's got a curfew, but if I'm late they'll leave the window open for me and I can go up the fire escape. Got several hours before curfew, though... most of the boys're probably still at Tibby's."

"So you don't have anyone to look after you? What if you get hurt, or get in trouble? What if you just don't come home one night?"

"We got Kloppmann, he owns the place. He takes real good care of us... and we look out for each other. 'F one of us ain't there one night, everybody just assumes we's stayin' someplace else."

Evie just looked at him and smiled. His grammar was terrible, his accent thicker than she was used to, and he would be seen as a worthless cripple in her society, but he was so, so charming. He had the kind of smile that produced a "skirt-over-your-head" reaction, as the girls at her school put it. Even with the eye patch, he had a kind face and a sweet, playful gleam in his eye. His personality, so far, was just the kind she'd looked for her whole life, in a friend, maybe in a lover... though she'd never thought of the latter until now.

They walked in silence for a few blocks, until they came to a small Italian restaurant on the other side of town. Blink stopped and smiled at her. "Hungry?"

Evie glanced in the window and grinned. This was the kind of place she'd always wanted to go, but her parents would never allow her to "stoop to this level of so-called 'society.'" She nodded. "Starving."

The unlikely pair sat down to their pasta and breadsticks, served by a burly man with a rolling Italian accent and a very friendly demeanor. Blink knew him by way of his buddy Racetrack, as this was one of his favorite places in Manhattan. Evie found it stereotypical and utterly fantastic.

She looked down and saw only one fork. This baffled her just long enough for Blink to catch on. "One dish, one fork. This place ain't real big on mulliple-course meals." Evie grinned at his sweet little mispronunciation. All part of the charm, she mused.

"Sorry," she mumbled with a blush and scooped up some of her pasta. As she ate it, she nearly cried. "This is so good... I can't believe I've never had this before."

Blink laughed, partly in shock. "Never had Italian food? Jeeze, what kinda sheltered life do you lead?"

The restaurant door swung open and loud, boisterous laughter could be heard ringing against the walls. A short Italian boy entered, accompanied by a darker-skinned boy with a mass of brown curls on his head. Blink sighed and shook his head, hoping they wouldn't see him. But, as usual, his hopes were shattered in the blink of an eye... slight pun intended.

"Blinky! How's it goin', pal?" The boys rushed over, the shorter one playfully punching him in the shoulder. "What're you doin'... hey, who's this pretty lady?"

Blink looked slightly frustrated, but introduced them anyway. "Fellas, this is Evelyn Patricia Harris," he said with a wink at her. "Evie, this is Racetrack."

Racetrack wiggled his eyebrows and kissed her hand. "Pleasure, miss."

Evie giggled. "Indeed." She looked expectantly at the other boy, then at Blink.

"And this is Mush."

Mush simply smiled and nodded curtly. "How'd'ya do."

"Boy, Blink, you oughta bring her by the lodgin' house when you'se done here. Sure the fellas would all love to meet 'er." Racetrack grinned at Evie, which made her smile and made Blink feel a little sick to his stomach.

"I dunno if that'd be such a good idea, Race..."

Evie straightened, not about to let another person make decisions for her. "Actually, I can't think of anything I'd rather do tonight."

A/N: Sooo, what do you guys think? I know the chapter's kinda weak and has very little happening but I really needed to establish a relationship aaaand get Evie incorporated well into the story. But I succeeded in posting a second chapter today! VICTORY IS MINE! Anyhow. Please R&R. Now I have to go work on my other fic... which you should read as well. (end shameless plug here.) -Layne