Hey look, an author's note! I know some of you are rolling your eyes at me right now, and some of you are probably having "headdesk" moments (again) that I'm updating this, and not Real Love. Sorry bout that, but this has been stuck in my head all day, and I wasn't going to get anywhere on Real Love, or House of Cards until I got it out. Anyways, thanks so much to my awesome reviewers, (who, I think at this point are only Morning Glory and Stress) you totally make my day. To everyone else, enjoy! And I love reviews, they make me smile. Wouldn't you like to make somebody smile today?

My knee was bouncing nervously under the desk, a fact that I didn't realize until Elise Vandeers turned in her seat, sending me an irritated look.

"Do you mind? You're shaking my desk, it feels like a small earthquake in here," she commented, lifting her eyebrows pointedly.

"Sorry," I muttered, stilling my leg. I pulled my pocket watch out of my vest pocket, glancing at the time. I frowned; it was eleven o'clock, soon I'd have to make my excuses and leave, if I wanted to be at Tibby's by noon.

"Got some where to be?" The words cut through my thoughts, and I jumped, startled to see that Elise was still staring at me.

"Uh—yeah. Kinda."

The girl raised her eyebrows at my unintentionally cryptic answer, before turning to face the front of the classroom again. I sighed in relief, glad not to be scrutinized by her anymore. I'd known Elise Vandeers since primary school, and at best, we tolerated each other. She had some crazy notion in her head that she was the smartest in the class, and wanted nothing more than to earn to coveted role of valedictorian. We'd been competing for it ever since, and now it was actually in our sights, with only one year of school remaining for both of us.

I shot my hand up suddenly, blushing as I actually startled myself at the move. Mr. Harding blinked in surprise, jerking his head back, like I might have thrown something at him. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, as my fellow classmates snickered.

"Yes, Mr. Jacobs?" He asked dryly, his cracked voice never losing its monotonous drawl.

"May I be excused, sir? I have to be home early today. My—father needs me." I hesitated, mentally kicking myself for not coming up with an appropriate lie before I raised my hand. My nerves had really been getting to me.

Mr. Harding seemed to consider the question for a moment, before responding, "Did you bring a note to that affect, from your father?"

I swallowed, guiltily, "No, sir. I forgot to get one. Can I bring one in tomorrow?"

Mr. Harding frowned slightly at that, "Alright, I suppose. Don't forget, though, Mr. Jacobs."

"Yes, sir," I responded, grabbing my books, and standing so fast that the desk teetered for a moment, threatening to tip over, before it settled back onto all four of its legs. I hurried to the door, stopping momentarily at the coat closet for my rucksack, and shoving my books in haphazardly.

My steps slowed as my feet met with the cobblestones of the street, and I gulped in air, glad to be out of the classroom finally. I definitely wasn't made for the world of lies and espionage. I'd leave the lying to Jack; he seemed to be pretty good at it. I scowled slightly at the thought, suddenly irritated at my friend. I hoped he had a good explanation for all this, or I was never going to forgive him.

I walked quickly; making it to Tibby's a good thirty minutes before I was supposed to be there. I chewed on the inside of my lip, mentally debating whether or not I wanted to wait outside for Jack to show up, or go inside and get a table. I was saved from making the decision though, when I spotted Skittery, Racetrack, and Kid Blink, all heading towards Tibby's.

For a moment I envied their banter, they laughed, taking fake jabs at one another, as if they had no problems. I quickly stifled the feeling though, I knew well the kinds of problems my newsie friends faced. It was Racetrack who spotted me first, dodging a playful punch from Skittery.

"Heya, Dave, you decide to quit school and join the newsies for real, or what?" He asked, a sarcastic look on his face. I don't know how he did it, but Racetrack could actually make his face look sarcastic. It was a rare talent, I'm sure.

I shrugged at him, "No, I'm meeting Jack here for lunch. I'm just a little early."

"Oh, well, why don't you come sit with us while you're waiting," Kid Blink offered. He didn't bother to wait for an answer, following the other boys into Tibby's. I shrugged to myself, entering the restaurant as well.

"So, how's it rollin', Dave?" Racetrack asked, leaning back comfortably in the booth he'd selected. "Between you and Jack, you'd think someone died. Jack didn't get back together with your sistah, did he?"

I glowered at that comment, and he held his hands up defensively, "Hey, I'm just asking. Because, you know, if she's interested, I'm available."

"Yeah, I'll be sure to let her know. She'll be thrilled, I'm sure," I replied, rolling my eyes at him.

"Can't blame a guy for trying," he commented, shrugging innocently at Skittery and Kid Blink. That's one thing to be said about Racetrack, he certainly loved an audience. The more people were listening, the more smart mouthed he became. He grew serious for a moment though, leaning forward, and resting his forearms on the table. "Honestly though," he said, lowering his voice, "Do you know what's been with Jack? He's actin' all glum all a' sudden. And he won't talk to me. I can't figure it out."

I glanced away from his prying eyes, picking at a small splinter on the table, "Dunno, Race. Guess he's just got a lot on his mind. You heard him last month, talking about getting a real job. Maybe he's just thinking about that."

Racetrack lifted his shoulders, "Yeah, maybe. Just doesn't seem like him, though, ya know?"

"Race is right," Skittery chimed in, speaking up for the first time, "It's freakin' me out a little."

"What's the matter, Skitts, you scared of Jack?" Kid Blink asked, elbowing Racetrack in the side for effect, and guffawing loudly at his own attempt at a joke. Racetrack rolled his eyes, digging his own elbow into Blink's side in retaliation. I breathed a sigh of relief, as they continued to roughhouse, dropping the subject of Jack.

I glanced over at Skittery, expecting to see him laughing along with the other two, but was surprised to find him staring wordlessly at the table, his mind clearly on another matter.

A waiter appeared at the edge of the table, and took our food orders. He eyed us warningly, a silent command not to disturb his other customers. I leaned my head back against the booth, closing my eyes momentarily, a sudden wave of exhaustion coming over me.

Jack had better hurry and get to Tibby's; I had better things to do then sit around waiting for him all day. Like sleep.