Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.


Chapter 102: Prolonging the Inevitable

"Welcome back, Mr. Jacobs. I wish you the best on your exams, and hope that your independent study will prove adequate enough to pass, for as much as I wouldn't mind having you back in class for another year, I'm sure you're anxious to finish school with the rest of your friends."

Davey smiled, thanking Mr. Crowell quietly and feeling his heart begin to beat faster as the schoolmaster walked to the front of the room to address the rest of the pupils who would be taking the first of three competency exams that morning.

Listening attentively as the man gave his instructions and began to write on the blackboard, Davey took a few steadying breaths.

You know this. You know this. You're going to be fine. Just do your best. That's all you can expect of yourself.

In the row in front of him, Sadie bent over her slate, her posture one of intent concentration. Davey had spoken with her only briefly that morning, exchanging a few words of greeting as they'd both found their seats, but she hadn't seemed nervous at all, so hopefully that meant she was feeling prepared and at ease about the exams.

He'd managed to cram in a good amount of study time over the past several days, so he ought to be feeling fairly confident and prepared as well...but truth be told, his mind had been rather scattered as of late, and it had been difficult to absorb the information he'd so diligently been studying.

Ever since the incident on the rooftop, it had been impossible for him to concentrate. Not just on his studies, but on practically every task, mundane or monumental. He'd skimmed entire copies of The World before going out to sell, only to get to the end of the undertaking and realize that he couldn't recall a single word he'd read. He'd accidentally given the wrong change to a customer twice, something he never did, and he'd even gotten so lost in his thoughts that the boys from his reading group had good-naturedly ganged up on him to take away the book that they'd been reading together, installing Jojo as the elocutionist instead since Davey was "obviously out to lunch." He'd come out of his slight mental stupor long enough to look on proudly as his student had made his way through the rest of the chapter with hardly any assistance, but once the reading time was over, his distraction had returned, and he'd found himself struggling to sell his papers, his mind once again preoccupied with other thoughts.

At the forefront of his perplexity was his completely atypical reaction to Sadie's teasing. He was still trying to figure out what exactly had caused it (chiefly so that he could determine how to prevent it from happening again), but there had been a confounding lack of satisfying answers to his questions. Being flustered by Sadie's impulsiveness wasn't anything new, but the feelings that had arrived tandem with his normal discomfiture were...different than usual.

He'd probably set himself up for it with his unchecked if surreptitious perusal, something else that had been completely out of character. He'd observed Sadie before, his mind unconsciously taking in her movements and her mannerisms, cataloging them away without really noticing them, but his focus had always been on the conversation, on trying to absorb what she was saying, formulating a thoughtful and coherent response, and showing her that he understood and valued her disclosure. These responses had commanded his undivided attention, and he hadn't had the mental space to think about much else.

But suddenly, once the expectation of conversation had been removed and he didn't have to think about what to say, he'd found his focus turning from the words he ought to say to Sadie to Sadie herself instead. And it was like seeing the sun break through the fog off of the harbor, that unlooked-for, expeditious transformation from haziness to clarity where you suddenly saw more than you'd ever realized was there before, because only moments ago it had been hiding just out of sight.

The two days that had passed between the rooftop incident and his return to school had given him ample time to ruminate on the matter, but the passage of time had brought no answers. His voice had returned the day following his tête-à-tête with Sadie, but despite that, he'd found himself at a loss for words when he'd seen her next, suddenly unsure of what to say or how to approach her. For her part, she'd been as cheerful and friendly as ever, but he could tell that she, too, was being more circumspect; she'd maintained a very respectful distance and had reigned in her teasing, clearly determined to make good on her promise that she wouldn't overstep again.

He appreciated the courtesy...but a part of him was a little disappointed, too.

Returning to school for the interim of three days was another slightly-disorienting change. His parents had excused him from selling papers, wanting him to focus on passing his exams and assuring him that they'd figure out a way to cover the cost of his lost income, and while Davey appreciated the temporary reprieve, it felt a little strange to be inside the classroom instead of outside hawking headlines. Being welcomed by his schoolmaster and classmates had been a pleasant surprise, though, and he'd found himself eager - if a little nervous - to take on the challenge of his exams to see if he really had managed to master the information adequately enough to keep up and finish his schooling with the rest of his class.

At the front of the room, Mr. Crowell finished giving his instructions, and Davey bent over his slate like the rest of the pupils, setting, with some effort, all thoughts of Sadie aside for the moment to focus on the task at hand...


Two hours later, he and several of his classmates had completed their examinations. It was nearly noontime, and Davey could hear several stomachs (including his own) rumbling in anticipation of the approaching midday meal.

One down, two to go, he thought, feeling satisfied about his performance on the first test. He'd been able to answer nearly all of the questions without any trouble, and while there were a few he'd been unsure about, his memory hadn't failed him, and he knew that he'd done his best under the circumstances. Now he figured that he could relax a little until the second exam took place the following morning...

...but it turned out that relaxing was not in the cards.

When the lunch recess was called, Davey went to the park with Sadie and her friends as usual, but he found himself suddenly shy again, as though he'd turned back into the boy he'd been on his first few weeks in Manhattan. He couldn't find his ability to banter and talk with her as usual, didn't know where to look when she smiled at him, and was almost relieved when she was occupied in conversation with others and her attention was drawn elsewhere.

And yet, he couldn't stop looking at her.

He noticed a tiny bandage wrapped around her thumb and wondered if she'd pricked herself while sewing. He wanted to ask her about it, to inquire whether it hurt her very much, and to see if there was anything he could do to help her until she recovered, for the bandage was on her dominant hand and must have been making writing and ciphering uncomfortable...but he didn't want her to know that he'd been perusing her so closely, so in the end he decided against it. He really shouldn't look at her as much as he did, but he couldn't help it, so he settled for saying nothing instead and trying his hardest not to get distracted as the day wore on.

The next morning, he moved to a desk in the row in front of her, hoping that it would assuage his unwanted curiosity...but strangely enough, not being able to see her didn't diminish his distraction in the slightest. If anything, his other senses were heightened: his ears strained to catch even the softest syllables of her voice, his nose caught the smell of the savory meat pie that she occasionally brought for her lunch, and any time she happened to walk past him, it was as though he could feel her touch in the gentle brush of the air.

(It was at this point that he realized perhaps "curiosity" was too weak of a word to describe what he was feeling...but he was too afraid to determine the appropriate classification for his particular malady, so he chose not to dwell on it).

He managed to make it through his second exam with as much facility as the first, but afterwards found himself struggling to pay attention in class, and Mr. Crowell, noting Davey's absentmindness, actually went so far as to take him aside and ask him if he was feeling quite well.

(He wasn't feeling entirely well, truth be told, but knew that he wasn't ill - at least, not with any kind of physical affliction - though he chose once again not to pursue self-diagnosis).

Thus the second day passed, and before Davey knew it, he found himself walking home to the tenement with Les and the Becker sisters, Margaret having lingered behind at the schoolhouse with her sweetheart, James Miller.

It would have been dreadfully awkward had Les and Abby not been there. Davey almost immediately struck up a conversation with the latter, sure that if left by himself to talk with Sadie he would either say something completely ridiculous or else pass nearly the entire walk in conflicted silence. Thankfully, the youngest Becker sister's easy chatter about the latest book she'd read eased his nerves somewhat, and Les and Sadie for their part were content to converse about far less cerebral matters, so the walk back wasn't as terrible as Davey expected it to be, and he managed to make it back to the tenement without incident.

The third and final day passed by in a similar manner, Davey managing to somehow reign in his thoughts to perform adequately (or so he hoped) on his exams but finding himself persistently unable to concentrate once that task had been completed. It was the most disconcerting feeling - half of the time he felt almost anxiously excited, and the other half of the time he felt sure that he was, in fact, not excited but miserable.

What was going on with him? Why were his thoughts so suddenly consumed with this girl he'd already known for months and had never had any reason to fixate on before?

The irony of the situation was not lost on Davey. When he'd first met Sadie, he'd been put off by her carelessness and rather ill-disposed towards her when she'd spilled paint on his shirt. Even after she'd made amends by replacing the garment, he'd held back a little, wary of her friendliness and unsure of her motives, not really wanting to associate with such an impulsive girl any more than the rules of politeness and her status as the landlord's daughter dictated.

But then she'd begun to wear away his resistance, little by little. And with every simple act of kindness, with every thoughtful or teasing word, with every genuine, sweet smile, she'd slowly, slowly removed his defenses and worked her way into his life…

And now she was all he could think about.

It was very unsettling.

Having finished his final exam, Davey pulled out the notebook that he'd impulsively tucked into his school bag earlier that morning. He'd brought it along to occupy himself, and while normally he would have simply read a book, he found himself wanting to write instead. Flipping to the last page he'd been working on, his eyes scanned the words he'd penned over two weeks ago after coming back from his reading engagement at the Beckers'.

It was a poem - or the beginning of one - that had come to him rather quickly as he'd sat there ruminating on his friendship with Sadie and scribbling his thoughts down on the page, and as he re-read the lines that he'd composed, the words began coming to him again, and he put pencil to paper.

About halfway through writing the next stanza, he realized that what he was doing was a terrible strategy for trying to get Sadie out of his head.

Pull yourself together, Davey, he told himself firmly. He closed his notebook and set down his pencil, pulling out Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, the latest novel that Abby had loaned him, hoping that it would be an adequate distraction. Opening the book to the first chapter, he began to read...

But he couldn't concentrate. The words simply wouldn't sink in, and instead of Jules Verne's narrative, the lines of his unfinished poem ran through his head:

.

The girl upstairs is inexplic'bly bright

And baffling like a full moon at midday,

And even when her warmth is small and slight,

I falter, and I don't know what to say.

.

Her cheerful smile knocks upon the door;

I hear the sound and hesitate within

Too stirred to keep her waiting anymore,

Unsure of whether I should let her in -

.

"Psst, David!"

Davey turned around to see James Miller signaling to him from the row behind. Stealing a quick glance at Mr. Crowell to make sure that the schoolmaster was occupied, Davey carefully leaned back so that he was within earshot.

"Margaret and I are planning to go to Lenzi's after school to celebrate finishing our exams," James whispered, "and Megs just convinced Sadie to come, too. What do you say? Are you game to join us? It'll be fun - a casual double date of sorts."

"I - I have to take my brother home," Davey whispered back, frantically grasping for any excuse that he could find to avoid being put in such a potentially compromising situation. "He can't walk back to the tenement by himself."

"He's welcome to come, too," James offered. "Sadie's going to have Abigail with her, anyway, and we can get the kiddos their own booth."

"Les is a handful," Davey protested feebly. "He'd probably be a distraction." It was only partially true; Les would likely be well-behaved enough if a soda from the drugstore was involved. "We wouldn't want to ruin the celebration."

"Oh come on, David - you know we're not like that! This isn't a fancy dinner party - just a bunch of pals going to get some ice cream. Don't tell me you're adverse to fun!"

"I should probably go home to study."

James let out a quiet scoff. "Study for what? This is the last day of our exams, and Crowell already said he's not assigning any new material for today. Even the schoolmaster's giving us leave to enjoy ourselves!"

When Davey didn't say anything in response, James leaned closer.

"Are you opposed to the idea because Margaret will be there?" he asked. "You got something against my girl, David?"

"No!" Davey exclaimed quickly. "No, I - Margaret's fine, she's perfectly fine. I don't - "

"Is it me, then?" James prodded.

"No! You're both great, I'm sure - not that I know either of you well enough to really say - but from what I've seen, there's nothing, nothing that would make me opposed to your company," Davey rambled anxiously, afraid that he'd managed to offend the other boy.

"So, you don't want to go...because of Sadie, then?" James asked slowly.

Davey shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The answer to that question was yes - but not for the reasons that James supposed.

"What do you have against Sadie?" the other boy asked, sounding incredulous. "She's one of the most agreeable people I know. And aren't you well-acquainted already? She's been tutoring you, right?"

"Yes, she's been tutoring me," Davey mumbled. "And she's completely agreeable." Agreeable, and a good many other things that would make going on a spontaneous double date with her and an already-established couple a very, very bad idea, no matter how casual the setting might be and no matter how minimal the expectations.

"Have you already got a girl, then?" James asked, grasping at straws but seemingly determined to come up with the reason for Davey's stubborn refusal. "You don't want to make someone else jealous, is that it?"

The thought of it was laughable, but Davey was far too jittery at the moment to make a self-deprecating quip. He hated social situations like these when he felt caught between two undesirable options and where it almost seemed inevitable that he would offend someone, even though that was the last thing in the world that he wanted to do.

"If you'd rather not say, I'll back off," James conceded. Davey could hear the disappointment in the other boy's voice, and he felt guilty - it had been kind of James to think of including him, and it wasn't his fault that Davey was overwhelmed by a plethora of confusing, irrational feelings at the moment and couldn't figure out how to get a grip on himself.

"I don't have a girl," he said, the words coming out sounding pitiful for all the wrong reasons. "That's not why I don't want to come."

Instead of probing further, James simply sat listening this time.

"I'm just not feeling like myself right now, that's all." It was the closest that Davey could get to admitting the truth without fully divulging it - and without lying. And what was the truth in this situation, really? His rational side - the side that was always cautious and circumspect and anxiously aware - knew that, given his currently flustered state of mind, spending any kind of time in Sadie's company would most assuredly lead to awkwardness and further confusion, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs. He should know better than to even consider the thought of going to a social engagement with the landlord's daughter, anyway - it wasn't proper, and it was fraught with potential pitfalls, and there were all kinds of ways it was likely to end in disaster…

...so why was his less-rational side quietly urging him to throw caution to the winds and accept the invitation? And why did the thought of going out with Sadie, no matter how casually, intrigue him so much? He liked their friendship the way it was, straightforward and comfortable, didn't he? Wasn't that why the incident on the rooftop had upset him so much? Because it had thrown their uncomplicated camaraderie into confusion, even if just for a moment?

Davey massaged the back of his neck, trying to ease away his agitation.

Say no. You don't want to complicate things - they're good the way they are. You just need some time to get over your temporary confusion. That's all this is. Don't make it worse than it needs to be.

"Thanks for the offer, James," he said quietly, turning over his shoulder to smile at the other boy and hoping that he understood. "I appreciate you and Margaret wanting to include me. I really do. But I'll have to pass this time."

So saying, he turned around and opened his book again, trying to ignore the regret that coiled and settled in his stomach for the rest of the afternoon. He felt even worse when he saw James and Margaret leave the schoolroom at the end of the day with the Becker sisters in tow, the group lighthearted and happy as they headed down the street in the direction of the drugstore while Davey and Les turned in the opposite direction towards home.

The walk back to the tenement was a rather unhappy one, Les' habitual chatter grating more than usual, and once they'd gotten back to their family's apartment, Davey found himself uncomfortably antsy with no studies to occupy his mind and no job to apply himself to.

After a half hour or so of fiddling around the apartment accomplishing nothing in particular, he forced himself to sit down. He pulled out his notebook and flipped to the last page he'd been writing on, half-heartedly hoping that finishing up his poem would help him sort out his troubled, perplexing thoughts.

Rolling his pencil absently between his fingers, Davey scanned the lines he had written and waited for more to surface from the depths of his mind…

But the inspiration must have left him, for try as he might, he couldn't come up with a single word.


A/N: Oh, Davey… *shakes head* Somebody get this boy some help. ;) We'll be leaving our protagonist to simmer in his self-inflicted agony for just a bit while we check in with the King of New York for our upcoming chapter, but until then, I'd love to hear your thoughts/reactions to this installment!