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


Chapter 117: A Flower for the Lady

The bell over the entrance of McNally's Used Bookstore jingled as David pushed it open, and Abby followed him through the doorway, eagerly clasping three of her newly-purchased novels closer as she and her neighbor made their way out of the store and onto the street. It had been an auspicious day for a visit; a new shipment of books had just arrived, so there had been an ample selection to choose from, and Abby had been able to get some extra allowance from the two novels that she'd brought along to trade in. Her rather sizable haul had been placed in David's newsboy bag, all except for the novels that wouldn't fit, and these were the three that she had cradled in her arms like the treasures that they were.

One of them was actually for David, though she hadn't told him so. While they'd been perusing the stacks of books, she'd caught sight of him leafing through one particular volume, a look of rapt fascination on his face as his eyes scanned the words before him. He'd eventually set it back in its place and had moved down the row, but before too long, he'd returned to that same book again, and had spent nearly the rest of the time engrossed in its pages. When the clock at the back of the store had chimed the hour, he'd hesitated for just a moment, then had closed up the book and returned it to its place, but not before Abby had caught the lingering glance that he'd given it before turning away and coming over to reluctantly inform her that it was time to head home.

She'd followed him up to the front of the store, swiping the book from the bookshelf without him noticing, and had hidden it in the stack of her other acquisitions without arousing any suspicions. It had hardly made a dent in the allowance she'd brought, and it had felt gratifying to buy a gift, especially one that she knew would bring such delight, though she wasn't sure if she ought to save it for a special occasion or simply give it to David when they got back to the tenement.

They would be meeting Sadie at the landlord's office to work on some decorations for the upcoming tenement party, but the other girl would likely still be fixing dinner after working all afternoon at the tailor's, so maybe there would be some time to pore over the recently-acquired books before it was time to eat and then get to work.

The visit to McNally's had been a long time coming, as it had been almost a month since David had successfully gotten Sadie to read for fun, but things had gotten so busy since then that there hadn't been time to make good on the reward that had been secretly decided upon that night in July, when the two reading-inclined halves of the Jacobs and Becker siblings had made an agreement to treat themselves to a trip to the used bookstore if they could convince either Les or Sadie that reading was a worthwhile diversion. It had been the start of an almost-instantaneous camaraderie, and Abby found herself reflecting that, as much as she could have done without Les, she was glad that the Jacobs family had settled at the tenement, for in David she had found a friend who was smart and sensible and talked to her like she was an adult and not just a little kid.

She'd been secretly relieved when he hadn't stopped coming by for tutoring even though he'd already passed his exams in school, for though they'd only chat briefly at those meetings, it was always fun for Abby to enthuse with someone equally interested in the latest novel she'd been devouring. David had been reading to Sadie at the end of their lessons too as of late, and though Abby had remained outwardly engrossed in her own book, she'd found herself surreptitiously observing them during these encounters, for there was something about their interactions that intrigued her, even if she couldn't put a finger on what it was.

Truth be told, it was probably Les who had planted the seed of curiosity in her mind. He'd made mention of his sneaking suspicion that David was sweet on Sadie weeks ago, and though Abby's interest in testing the veracity of that claim had been rather lukewarm at the time, she'd found herself less indifferent to the possibility as the days wore on. She couldn't fathom why anyone as bright as David would take an interest in a girl as ordinary as her sister, but closer observation seemed to indicate that Les' conjectures were, surprisingly, far from unfounded. There was something about the way David looked at and spoke to Sadie that was openly affectionate - almost tender, even - as though she was like a baby bird and one of those sunset-colored roses in Central Park all rolled into one, and Abby, who had seen her fair share of boys smitten with her sister come and go, could identify a similar fondness in David's demeanor, even if a handful of his symptoms appeared to be slightly different from those who had been afflicted before him.

In years past, Sadie had always been the blithe one of the Becker sisters, lighthearted and pretty with a winning personality (though not much depth, Abby opined), the kind of girl whose enthusiasm for others and zest for life could charm most people easily. More naturally gregarious than the sensible Judith, and certainly more charismatic than Abby (who could care less about having a crowd of acquaintances much less the annoyance of would-be beaus), Sadie had amassed a number of friends and admirers over time, and Abby had become used to (and rather apathetic towards) the steady stream of visitors stopping by the apartment to socialize with or call on her sister.

But all that had changed roughly two years ago, when things had been abruptly turned upside down, and since then, Sadie's circle of acquaintances had dwindled considerably. Abby had been slightly relieved to have fewer intrusions on the privacy of their home, but a part of her felt sorry for her sister, who hadn't outwardly faltered or complained, but had silently wilted in private, occasionally lapsing into melancholy pensiveness or crying softly in bed at night when she thought that Abby was asleep. Her lighthearted disposition was always back in place by morning, but those heartsick looks and stifled sobs were things that Abby would always remember about that bleak and confusing season.

Eventually, after over a year had passed, Sadie had regained some of her verve, and she'd begun to act and sound more like herself, though a bit of the soberness had remained. Sometime after that, the Jacobs family had moved in downstairs at the tenement, and, in retrospect, this was when Abby had started to see an undeniable - if subtle - shift in her sister's demeanor. It hadn't been much at first, just a slightly more cheerful mien and an increased focus on her studies, but eventually it had deepened into something else, a settled happiness that was more quiet and thoughtful than the buoyancy she'd exhibited before but nevertheless contained traces of the old Sadie's joie de vivre. Abby had even caught her daydreaming a few times with a contented look on her face, and when she'd questioned her sister about it, Sadie had only replied that she was "thinking" or "planning," two words that would have hardly crossed her lips in years prior.

It was probably a stretch to attribute these changes to David alone, but to assume that he had nothing to do with the transformation would likely be equally fallacious.

At any rate, in Abby's opinion, her sister could certainly do worse (and probably couldn't do better) than having their neighbor downstairs as a sweetheart, and if someone was going to be coming around regularly to disrupt the family's solitude, she'd much rather it be David than anyone else. It wouldn't even feel like a disruption, really, not when he was already such a part of their daily lives.

The only question was whether or not Sadie would be agreeable to the idea. Abby couldn't tell if her sister held any kind of special fondness for the boy in question; she was friendly and warm with him and seemed to enjoy his company, but that wasn't any different from how she'd acted towards others in the past - and least, not from what Abby could see - so there was a chance that the attraction was only one-sided or unequal at best.

It was unfortunate - though not unexpected, Abby mused. Her sister was probably too silly and superficial to notice David's good qualities, and in the absence of any encouragement from her, his interest would probably wane, for David surely knew better than to waste his time pining for a girl who was incapable of appreciating him. It meant that if Abby wanted to preserve any chance of keeping him around, she probably ought to be a bit more open to the idea of helping things along.

Les would be thrilled, she thought wryly. She had no intention of adopting the meddling tactics of the younger Jacobs brother, but it couldn't hurt to look for opportunities to at least to make herself scarce on occasion so that David and Sadie could talk uninterrupted. Maybe, with time, Sadie would eventually see the light.

Having settled on this course of action, Abby looked over at her neighbor who had been walking quietly by her side for the last several moments. Noticing her perusal, he smiled.

"You looked like you were deep in thought, so I didn't want to interrupt. Were you trying to decide on which book to read first?"

Under other circumstances, it would have been a spot-on conjecture, and Abby found herself eager to discuss her recent purchases now that David had broached the subject. She'd already done more thinking about her sister's romantic prospects than she would have preferred to, and was ready to move on to a more interesting topic of discussion.

They chatted the rest of the way back to the tenement, heading straight to the landlord's office when they arrived. True to Abby's prediction, her sister was absent, but there was a basket of decoration-making materials sitting by the door and a note on the desk saying that Sadie would be back shortly with dinner.

"What's all this for?" David asked curiously, giving the basket of craft supplies an inquisitive look.

Abby set her books down by her armchair. "That's probably part of what we'll be working on tonight. My sister has this idea in her head that adding decorations to the party will make it 'especially festive' or something like that. We've never done it before, and I honestly don't think anyone will notice a difference, but that's Sadie - she likes pretty things. And refreshments aren't her strong point, anyway."

Walking over to the box, Abby pulled out a garland of paper snowflakes. "My sister was experimenting last night, and she made this. She said she's going to make three more to hang across the yard behind the tenement where the food will be served."

"That sounds like a lot of work," David observed.

Abby nodded in agreement. "And that's only a part of it. Wait 'till you hear the rest of the ideas she's come up with!"

She'd meant it for a slightly-derisive statement, but David, true to form, responded to the practicalities of the matter rather than to the note of disdain.

"Do you think we ought to get started?" he asked hesitantly. "I mean, if she has other projects to work on, too, we'll probably need all the time we can get. That is, if you could get us going. I have no idea how to make paper snowflakes."

Abby could tell that he'd probably been expecting to assist in preparations that weren't quite so artistically-inclined, even if he was clearly willing to give it a shot. Truth be told, she wasn't particularly eager to get to work and would have preferred to spend the time poring over her new books while they waited for Sadie, but just as she was about to say so, the thought crossed her mind that maybe she ought to go along with David's suggestion. Taking initiative when it came to helping Sadie with her tasks would cast him in a positive light and would likely incite feelings of appreciation (which couldn't hurt when it came to winning Sadie's favor), so maybe setting aside reading time this once would be a worthwhile sacrifice.

"The snowflakes aren't hard to make," Abby found herself saying. She picked up the box of decorations and brought it over to the table. "It's only folding and cutting." They sat down, and she took out a stack of white paper squares that Sadie had prepared the night before, showing David how to fold one into a triangle and then clip off the pointed ends. He copied her instructions meticulously and seemed to be getting along fine, but when it came time to trim the triangle into patterns, Abby was dismayed to find that her reasonably intelligent neighbor seemed to be completely incapable of cutting the shapes correctly. Even after a few tries, David had yet to make a passable-looking snowflake, and Abby found herself regretting the choice to forgo her reading time, for if Sadie were to arrive now and see him in the middle of butchering her carefully-prepared squares of paper, it certainly wouldn't do anything to help his cause.

Wrinkling her nose, Abby let out a sigh of exasperation. "You're terrible at this, David." She set down her scissors, unmotivated to continue.

He gave her a slightly-abashed smile as he unfolded the latest of his failed attempts. "I am, aren't I? My fingers have always been clumsy with these kinds of things. I'm amazed that your sister was able to make all of these so quickly."

"Well, working with her hands is the one thing she's not clumsy at," Abby shrugged.

He set down the ridiculous-looking snowflake he'd been unfolding and gave her a thoughtful look. "Do you ever compliment your sister, Abby? I mean, in her hearing?"

"Does Les ever compliment you?" Abby asked pointedly.

"Not very often," David admitted. "But occasionally - if I do something especially outstanding."

"He doesn't give you the appreciation you deserve," Abby declared, magnanimously choosing to overlook the snowflake snafu for the moment. "If I had an older brother like you - someone who was smart and interesting and actually enjoyed reading - I'd count myself lucky."

"I think Les would rather have an older brother who was tough and confident and enjoyed getting into mischief." David took another square of paper from the pile and, to Abby's inward chagrin, carefully began to fold it. "He told me yesterday that he wished he could trade me in for Jack or Race or one of the other newsies, and it's not the first time he's said that."

"Well, if he wants to get rid of you that badly, you could just become part of our family," Abby suggested. "Everyone likes you anyway, and we'd treat you better than Les."

"Are you offering to adopt me, Abby?"

She smiled. "Something like that." It wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind, but she wasn't going to overplay her hand. "Temporarily, at least, until Les learns to appreciate you."

"You might end up having to keep me permanently, then," David quipped.

"How's that a bad thing?"

The question came out sounding more earnest than she'd intended, and she saw David's fingers falter out of the corner of her eye.

"That's...kind of you to say, Abby," he said slowly. "It means a lot to know you feel that way." He paused, hesitantly creasing the paper in front of him before he continued. "Realistically, though, the rest of your family might not be agreeable to the idea." His tone of voice was somewhere between facetious and sincere, and she could tell that he was unsure of what to say.

"My parents think that you're polite and hard-working," she offered, deciding to move the discussion out of the realm of joking (and thinking that if she kept him talking, maybe she could delay the destruction of any more paper squares). "You've been a good influence on my sister, too. She likes having you around."

"I think the good influence part goes both ways," David replied. "And I likewise enjoy Sadie's company and our conversations. But having someone as a friend isn't the same thing as…" he trailed off, and Abby saw a wistful expression cross his face, but almost instantly, it was gone, and his characteristically thoughtful look was back in place.

"Speaking of your sister," he said conversationally, "I bet it would really make her happy if you complimented her every once in a while. About the things she does well." He smiled, and Abby could hear the coaxing older brother tone in his voice. "You don't have to flatter her or say anything you don't mean, but if something comes up, maybe think about telling her next time. Even what you mentioned earlier about how she's good with her hands, that could be turned into a compliment. I'm sure she can use all the encouragement she can get right now with regards to hosting the party since it's something she's never done before."

It had been a deft but clear change in subject, and Abby figured she'd prodded enough, so she went along with the segue.

"I'll consider it," she acquiesced. Compliments didn't come naturally, and complimenting Sadie in particular would take some effort, so she didn't want to promise anything. It wasn't that she disliked her third-oldest sister; it was just that they had very little in common, and it was often difficult for Abby to appreciate Sadie's positive traits when she found the latter's carefree attitude and her lack of prudence perplexing. It would have been vastly easier to find something to admire in a sister with a more sensible, steady temperament.

It suddenly dawned on Abby that her tenor of thinking was not entirely unlike Les' disdainful indifference towards his own older sibling's good qualities, and she immediately grimaced at the unwelcome epiphany. She considered herself vastly superior to the younger Jacobs brother when it came to intelligence and maturity, and to recognize the same childish thinking in her own familial perceptions that she'd just decried in his was...well, extremely unpleasant to say the least.

She would have to put some effort towards rectifying this by embracing a more sympathetic view of her sister, then (for the condition of acting or thinking like Les in any way was not to be endured), and she probably ought to consider applying David's advice to compliment Sadie every once in a while, too...

Right now, though, it was probably more important to make sure that he didn't completely eradicate the rest of their dwindling stack of paper.


Sadie held back an exclamation of dismay as she accidentally knocked over one of the pantry jars in her haste to quickly and quietly gather the last of the comestibles for the hamper that she was filling to take to the landlord's office. Her mother's sewing group had come over for dinner that evening, and they were currently clustered around the sitting area at the back of the apartment, chatting and partaking of the dinner that Miriam had prepared while Philip and Lilly ate in the relative quiet of the kitchen, slightly removed from all of the bustle. It would have been an even fuller house if Abby and Davey had been there, too, and Sadie had purposefully suggested that they meet in the landlord's office to avoid the congestion and so that they could prepare for the tenement party without getting underfoot. (She'd also been rather eager to escape the sewing group ladies, in particular one Mrs. Leah Hart, who'd managed to still deliver her usual barb as she'd passed by the kitchen on her way to the sitting area).

Setting the overturned jar of peaches back in its place, Sadie procured the item that she'd actually been reaching for and set it in her basket, checking one last time to make sure that she had everything before closing up the hamper and bidding her father and sister a quiet adieu. She then slipped out the front door, breathing a sigh of relief once she was alone in the quiet and solitude of the hallway.

Her first stop was the apartment on the second floor where Judith and her family were staying. The former had been feeling slightly ill and reluctant to eat the last day or so and had been spending most of her time in bed, so Sadie had offered to bring down some dinner to the rest of the family. After delivering the food and briefly chatting with her brother-in-law and nephews, she took her leave, not wanting to disturb Judith's rest, and made her way back upstairs to the landlord's office.

To her surprise, Abby and Davey were already at work.

"You look like you've been productive!" Sadie exclaimed, setting down the hamper.

"We tried to start making another snowflake garland," Abby reported, "but David's completely useless at it." She gestured to a handful of ragged-looking shapes sitting on the table. "He keeps cutting them too close or trimming off the wrong pieces."

"I think I'm going to redeem myself with this one, though," Davey declared, making a final snip with his scissors. "I was extra careful and tried to copy the last one you made, so the pattern should be a lot closer to what we've been aiming for..." Carefully, he unfolded the paper and held it up for their inspection.

Abby scrutinized his efforts, noticeably unimpressed. "It's better than your other attempts," she conceded, "...but it still looks more like a bug-eaten flower than a snowflake."

"It's a snow-flower," Davey joked, teasing the paper into place with his hands so that it curled in on itself, looking even more blossom-like. Turning over his shoulder, he held it out to Sadie with an embarrassed-looking smile.

"For you, Miss Becker, in recognition of your affection for the snow, and in acknowledgement of my utter ineptitude as it pertains to the task at hand. I'll gladly apply myself to whatever other jobs you may have, but I should probably stop wasting your paper now with my attempts to be helpful."

The sheepishness in his voice made the silly gesture even more endearing, and Sadie found herself accepting the flower and answering with a smile, "You are kind, Mr. Jacobs, in gifting this to me, and I thank you for your willingness to attempt an unfamiliar endeavor for my sake. I am sure we can find a task better suited to your particular talents and abilities, but for the time being, dinner awaits, so perhaps we shall break for our repast first."

Her two helpers readily agreed to the idea, setting aside their handiwork while Sadie unpacked the hamper and set out the food for them to eat. She'd tried to keep things simple, knowing that the focus of the evening was supposed to be on the task of preparing for the tenement party, but she hadn't been able to stop herself from adding a few extra items to the hodgepodge: a jar of candied carrots, which were Abby's favorite side dish, the last slice of her mother's recently-baked apple pie, which had been confiscated for Davey's plate, a half dozen cookies (compliments of Mrs. Gerlach), and a crock of hot chocolate to be enjoyed after the meal. These had been carefully packed alongside the sandwiches, corn salad, and hard-boiled eggs which had already been prepared, and though it was all rather simple fare, Sadie found herself gratified to see her companions enjoying their food as they partook of the meal. Abby, for being only ten years old, generally had a hearty appetite, and she quickly devoured the portion that she'd been given, then requested seconds on the corn salad and eggs. After serving her, Sadie surveyed Davey's plate, noticing that he, too, seemed to have finished his food.

"Would you like seconds?" she asked politely. "There's more of everything."

He hesitated. "If there's enough, I wouldn't mind…but I don't need to eat more, either."

She took his plate and refilled it, handing it back with a smile. "It's probably impertinent of me to say this, but you look like you could stand to eat a little more in general, Davey."

"So my mom tells me," he grumbled, but there was no bite to it. "The two of you are probably right, though. And I actually did skip lunch today."

"I hope that's not a regular practice of yours!" Sadie chided, dismayed at the disclosure.

Davey ducked his head. "Expenses come up sometimes. Things I don't really expect my parents to pay for. It doesn't seem right to take the money out of my earnings when it means bringing home less. And some of the newsies have even more limited fare than I do, so…" he shrugged. "Anyway, it's nothing to be concerned about."

She could tell that he was self-conscious about the subject and decided not to pursue it further, but inwardly found herself curtailing the impulse to pile more food on his plate, and she wondered if another opportunity would come up for her to pass along some sustenance to the newsies too without it seeming like an act of charity. She didn't want them to feel embarrassed or beholden to her - she simply wanted to fill some hungry bellies if at all possible.

It was a conundrum to be pondered another time, though. Right now, she had a tenement party to prepare for.

"Will you be baking anything for Sunday?" Davey asked. "It sounds like it's going to be a pretty big event."

"Which is exactly why I'll be banned from the kitchen for the rest of the week," Sadie joked. "It would be a terrible thing for our entire tenement to come down with indigestion!" She smiled. "In all seriousness, though, I've been given leave to focus on overseeing the other logistics for the party. My mother and sisters, as well as a few culinary-inclined friends, will be handling the refreshments. My father and brother-in-law will help me with the set up, and my nephews will be on hand to serve as runners."

"You can put me to work, too," Davey reminded her. "I was talking to my parents about it last night, and they excused me from selling in the morning, so I'll be free whenever you need me. It's the least we can do when your family's been so generous towards us. I'll try to convince Les to come along too; I'm sure he'd be glad to see Caleb and Samuel again."

"If that's agreeable to your family, I'd welcome your assistance," Sadie nodded. "I confess that I'm still a bit anxious about everything coming together. Judith always seemed to have matters so well in hand once she took over hostessing for Mama, but my mind isn't quite as detail-oriented, and I'm afraid that something will slip through the cracks. Having plenty of help on hand will likely offset any potential mishaps."

"Abby mentioned that the decorations are something new for this year," Davey smiled. "It seems like you're already putting your own stamp on things."

Sadie found herself suddenly a little bit shy but also secretly pleased that he'd noticed. "I've been thinking about what you said," she confessed, "about my strengths being in areas that are different, and about my so-called knack for making people feel welcomed. I thought that maybe adding some simple adornments might make the atmosphere of the party even more special, and we had the supplies already, so it was just a matter of repurposing them. The paper was left over from a project I did for Papa, and the baker's twine is a staple in our pantry. I'm going to secure some candles inside of these empty glass jars that we keep for canning, and gather some greenery to go around it on the outside, and maybe find a way to add a dash of red to match with the stripes in the baker's twine. Those will serve as centerpieces, and Mama's agreed to let me borrow some of her winter table linens to dress up the - "

"See," Abby whispered loudly to Davey. "I told you she had a lot of ideas."

Sadie faltered, realizing that she'd probably gone a bit overboard with her enthusing, but before she could apologize, Abby added, "And...I'm sure those ideas will make the party look nice. Nicer than usual."

The compliment came out of the blue and sounded more than a little bit forced, but Sadie immediately took it to heart.

"Abby, that's wonderful of you to say!" she responded. Her youngest sister was generally reticent in giving approval, so any expression of praise was a gift. "And I appreciate your vote of confidence and your willingness to help with the party preparations."

"I'd rather be here with you and David than stuck in the apartment with Mama's sewing group," the younger girl shrugged. "They always make a ruckus with their chattering and gossip. Papa's probably being driven half-crazy already since he can't escape to the office."

"He did look rather harried," Sadie agreed, suppressing a smile. "But I'm sure he'll make the best of it. He told me that he was planning to show Lilly some of his old boxing paraphernalia that he found the other day while he was cleaning out the office once they'd finished dinner and had eaten their dessert."

"Speaking of dessert," Abby segued, "I thought I saw hot chocolate and cookies in the hamper."

"I brought them over for us to enjoy while we work," Sadie confirmed. "But let's finish our dinner first."

Abby immediately returned to her food, devouring what remained on her plate only a moment later.

"Done!" she announced. Noticing that her dinner companions still had a ways to go, she added, "I'm going to go read while you two finish." And before Sadie could reply, Abby betook herself to her armchair and settled down to rifle through the bag of books sitting nearby.

"Everything's good, Chare," Davey remarked as he and Sadie resumed eating. "This corn salad reminds me of a similar recipe that a family friend used to make back in Brooklyn. She'd always whip up a double batch and then drop some off at our house."

"How long did you live there?" Sadie asked. She was curious, for it wasn't often that she heard him voluntarily speak about his childhood.

"About two and a half years," came his answer. "Until Les was born. Then we moved to a smaller apartment in Queens to cut down on costs since my mom was out of work for a while. My dad had some acquaintances who lived in the area, so it was a logical choice." He scraped up the last of his salad with his fork.

"What about you?" he queried. "Has this tenement always been your home?

"For most of my life, yes," Sadie confirmed, "though I was born in a different part of Manhattan a few years before we moved here when my father became the landlord." She hesitated for a moment, then added, "We actually almost moved again two years ago, but that didn't pan out, so we've remained here for the time being, and it's likely that we'll stay here for the foreseeable future."

"Did you ever want to travel?" he asked. "To explore the world outside of New York?"

"I've dreamed about it occasionally," she admitted. "When I was younger, I used to think that it would be thrilling to visit places that I'd never been to before and to live the life of an adventurer on the go. Ever since Judith moved to Boston, I've been eager to visit that historic town as well, and perhaps to venture even further beyond it if the opportunity presented itself." She smiled, feeling a little wistful. "I've come to realize, though, that such a way of life is impractical, and that I'd likely not enjoy it as much as I'd initially thought. I'd miss my family terribly, of course, and I've come to accept that my future is here, but…" she trailed off.

"But if it was up to you...that wouldn't be the case?" Davey asked quietly.

She was silent for a moment, pondering the question.

"Have you ever found yourself wishing that you could have a fresh start?" she asked instead. "A chance to remake yourself without your mistakes and others' perceptions limiting who you could be?"

He gave her a small smile. "I can't say that I've ever wished for a fresh start. With all of the moving my family's done, I've had enough new beginnings to last a lifetime. I'd really like to just find a place where I can settle down and be at home. But," he continued, "I can sympathize with the desire to be seen for who you really are, not for your mistakes or shortcomings - or even for who others perceive you to be. It can feel...confining, I guess, to be trapped in other people's assumptions like that, especially when they see only one part of you and conclude that's all that there is."

"And when those assumptions and expectations are so strong, it's hard not to let them become your reality," Sadie added softly, "to simply agree with those assessments, and to take on a persona that fits with others' perceptions, because…"

"...because sometimes it's easier to go along with what others think of you than to keep fighting to be understood," Davey finished. "Especially when you're still in the middle of figuring out who you are. When you're not even sure of who you're going to be, yet."

Sadie nodded, thankful that he understood. "Precisely."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"If your life in Manhattan feels...limiting," Davey ventured, clearly thinking through his word choice, "it makes sense that you'd want to look for an opportunity to explore other places that could offer you more freedom to be yourself. Or, at least, to have a blank slate to find out what that would mean without other people's expectations inhibiting you."

The words were carefully neutral, but there was a note of soberness in them, too.

"It's a little ironic that we're both looking for the same thing but in different ways," he added. "I always assumed that if I was able to just stay in one place and finally settle down, I'd eventually find my footing. That maybe if I had more time to get to know people, and for them to know me, maybe I wouldn't feel so different and out of place." He gave her a sympathetic smile. "But now I'm starting to wonder if maybe that's not a foregone conclusion. Maybe living in one place for most of your life doesn't guarantee that people will really know you or understand who you are."

It was a thoughtful, if indirect, acknowledgement of her earlier statement and an invitation to elaborate further, but Sadie found herself suddenly reluctant to respond. If wasn't that she didn't trust Davey - in fact, she wouldn't have even disclosed as much as she had (nonspecific as it was) if she hadn't felt safe to do so - but there was really no reason to speak of the complexities that had led to her current state of unease in Manhattan and her longing to venture outside of it. The fact that her friendship with Davey had grown and deepened without the past getting in the way was an unexpected boon, and she was in no hurry to sabotage that, for she wanted to keep his regard for as long as she could.

"Maybe it's more about finding the right people than the right place," she remarked, steering the conversation back to generalities. "Dreams are all well and good, but in the end, we must live with reality and try to make the best of it, finding contentment and gratification where we can instead of wishing for the impossible."

"You're right," he agreed. "That's a part of life, learning what's realistic and coming to accept it..." He paused, then added almost impulsively, "I do think, though, that it's important to hold on to dreams, even if they're unlikely to be realized. Or at least not to write them off completely. Not because we're going to get everything that we want...but because dreams tell us something about ourselves."

"Mr. Jacobs, you're talking just a bit ridiculously right now," Sadie teased gently. "I would have never thought that we'd have a conversation in which I'd be promoting the more sensible approach, and you'd be advocating for something slightly more fanciful."

"I'm just as surprised as you are," he admitted. "And...I'm not sure where it came from. I'm not really the kind of person who entertains dreams - at least, not often, not at this point in my life, anyway. But maybe there's some latent ridiculousness in me after all."

He shrugged, a smile stretching across his face, and Sadie found herself momentarily distracted at the thought of how far their friendship had come, for she could tell by the cadence of his voice and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled that he was comfortable with the admission despite its singularity.

He was opening up to her a little more each time that they spoke, and something about that realization made her her stomach flutter a bit, the way it had earlier that evening when he'd offered her his clumsily-made paper flower, all awkward charm and embarrassed sincerity, completely himself and yet somehow so far from the wary, self-conscious boy whom she'd befriended months ago after inadvertently spilling paint on his shirt.

"Chare?" The subject of her musing suddenly broke into her thoughts.

"Y-yes?" She smiled at him, trying to disguise her momentary lapse in attentiveness.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course!" she answered brightly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you…" Davey hesitated, "you didn't answer my question just now. The question's not important, but I wanted to make sure that you're feeling all right."

"I'm sorry, I was just distracted for a moment," Sadie confessed, embarrassed that she hadn't even heard him. "Tell me again what it was that you asked?"

"I was wondering if you'd like me to pack up any of the food to clear some space on the table," he repeated, and she realized that he had finished his meal. "I can take the dishes down to the washroom and clean them off, if you'd like - I'd probably be more useful that way than trying to make more paper snowflakes."

"It would help to free up our work space," she agreed, "and I'd appreciate the assistance." Rising to help him gather the dishes, she added, "Once you're back, though, I'm sure we can find a way to put your skill set to work. Perhaps the paper snowflakes weren't the best fit for your talents, but I'm confident that something else will be."

"If you say so, Chare," he smiled, taking the last dish from her hands. "I'll wash these up and be back in a jiffy."


A/N: As always, my deepest thanks to you for sticking with these two as their romance continues to unfurl. And while I'm at it, thanks a bunch for giving Sadie a chance. I know that female OCs don't always fare well in general opinion, especially when they're love interests (and I understand why this is the case), but it means a lot to me that you've allowed her to play in the sandbox. :)

If you have a moment to share any of your thoughts, long or short, I'd be absolutely thrilled to hear them. :)