The sound of a bell ringing wakes me from my sleep. I groan softly and sit up. The other boys in the room stir slowly. I flatten my hair, and stretch my back. I slip my shoes on, tuck my hair into my cap, and stand up. The only one of the boys out of bed yet is Romeo.

"Mornin'," he says to me with a friendly smile. I return his smile. "Race! Albert! Jojo! Get up!" he says loudly, walking to each of the bunks and shaking them.

I lean against Race's bunk; it's closest to the door. He opens his eyes, sees me, and grins. "Hello, beautiful," he says sleepily, sitting up.

I roll my eyes. "Get up, Race. We's got a long day of sellin' ahead of us."

Romeo heads out of the room, and the other boys get up and begin to get ready. I slip out the door, making my way outside.

Race catches up with me as I walk out. "Hey," he says. "How come you's tucks your hair in that cap? It's real pretty."

"No one ever heard of a girl sellin' papes," I reply simply.

"So?"

"So, the streets ain't a place for a lady," Albert answers, coming up behind us. I nod as he continues. "No matter how tough ya are."

"Albert's right," I say. "As much as I hate ta' say it, it ain't pretty out there for a girl."

We catch up with the rest of the newsies. I decide to at least try and make some other friends. I spot Jack up ahead, walking with a boy with a crutch. I walk up to the both of them.

"Hey, Annie," Jack says with a small smile. "The boys bein' nice to ya?"

I shrug. "I think I'll survive," I joke.

The boy on the crutch pipes up. "I was plannin' on introducin' myself last night to ya, but you left too early. I'm Crutchie." He gives me a very bright smile, and I can't help but smile back.

"It's nice to meet ya, Crutchie. I'm Annie."

"Jack says you's from Brooklyn," he continues. "Why're you here? Not that we ain't wantin' you here," Crutchie adds quickly.

"Spot thought it'd be best if I stay over here. One of the boys is mad at me, and Spot thinks it'll take a bit to sort it out."

"Well, whateva' happened, I'm glad you's here. We don't get to talk to much ladies around here," Crutchie says happily. Jack smiles at the boy as if Crutchie were his younger brother.

As we reach the gate in front of the World, Finch calls out, "They're puttin' up the headline!" We watch in anticipation, hoping it's something interesting.

TROLLEY STRIKE ENTERS THIRD WEEK

Everyone groans. "The trolley strike? Not again!" Elmer complains.

"Three weeks of the same story," Race says, standing next to me.

"They're killin' us with that snoozer," Finch says.

I look over as two young men stroll past the gate. The newsies around me tense a little.

Race speaks up from beside me, "Dear me, what is that unpleasant aroma? I fear the sewer may have backed up overnight."

Crutchie grins. "Or could it be..."

"The Delancey Bruddas," the newsies chorus, some laughing. I'd heard of the brothers before, but I'd been lucky enough to never run into them. I join in laughing with some of the boys.

One of them, Morris, approaches me. "What do we have here? A new kid? And a young one, at that."

"I ain't that young!" I defend myself, realizing it would have been a better idea not to speak.

Jack steps over and moves in front of me. "Hey. Leave 'em alone," he says, staring down Morris.

Just then, a man calls out from the distribution area. "Papes for the newsies! Line up!"

I walk with the rest of the boys and get in line behind Jack. "Mornin' Weasel," he says with a grin. "Did ya miss me?"

"The name's Wiesel," the man says with a scowl.

"Ain't that what I said?" Jack's grin widens as he slaps down his money.

"A hundred papes for the wise guy," Wiesel tells the Delanceys as Jack moves on.

I step up. "I'll take fifty papes," I say, placing the coins down.

Wiesel looks at me. "Never seen this one before."

I shrug. "I'm not from here. Brooklyn," I answer, taking the papes and moving along.

Race is behind me. "How's it goin', Weasel?" He smirks, still with a cigar.

"At least call me Mister," Wiesel says with a sigh.

"Well, I'll call ya sweetheart if you spot me fifty papes." I laugh softly at Race's joke.

Wiesel glared at Race. "Drop the cash and move along."

Race slaps his coin down. "Whatever happened to romance?" He picks up his fifty and comes to stand with me. "Where you goin' to sell today?" He asks.

I shrug. "I dunno. Never sold in 'Hattan before."   

Another grin comes across his face. "I'd be glad to show ya the best spots," he offers.

"I can't let ya do that, Race." Jack walks up to the two of us. "I's supposed to show 'er. Spot asked me specifically."

"I'm perfectly capable of sellin' my papes on my own!" I argue.

"Sadly, I gotta go with ya. Sorry, An," he says.

"Have a look at this new kid!" Wiesel exclaims, catching our attention. A boy around our age stands in line. He's never done this before, it's obvious.

"I'm new, too!" A younger kid behind him chirps.

"Don't worry kid," Race says, holding his cigar. "It rubs right off."

"I'll have twenty newspapers, please," the older kid says, but he doesn't move to give Wiesel any money.

"Let's see the dime," Wiesel presses.

The kid falters. "I'll pay you when I sell them," he says, as if it were obvious.

"Funny, kid. C'mon. Cash up front."

The kid glances around. "But whatever I don't sell, you buy back, right?" He asks.

"Certainly," Wiesel says. An' every time you lose a tooth, I put a penny under your pillow. This kid's a riot. C'mon, cough up the cash or blow." The kid finally puts a dime in the box, moving along to grab his papes.

Albert steps up. "You have a very interestin' face. Ever think about gettin' into the movin' pictures?" He asks as he pays.

Wiesel stands up taller. "You really think I could?"

"Sure," Albert says. "Buy a ticket, they let anyone in." His joke earns laughs from the boys.

The new kid steps back up. "Sorry, excuse me? I paid for twenty but you only gave me nineteen," he says. All the newsies stop and turn to look at him. Jack steps over and begins to count the papes.

"You see how nice I was to dis new kid? And what do I get for my civility?" Wiesel asks. "Ungrounded accusations."

"I-I just want what I paid for."

Oscar steps forward. "He said beat it!" He exclaims, cracking his knuckles.

Jack speaks up, "New kid's right, Weasel. Ya gave 'im nineteen. I'm sure it was an honest mistake on account'a Oscar can't count to twenty with his shoes on." The newsies laugh at his comment as Wiesel gives the new kid an extra pape. Jack places another coin on the counter. "Give him another fifty papes."

"I don't want more papes," the kid says, looking at Jack, who gives the kid a confused look.

"What kind'a newsie don't want more papes?" He questions.

"I'm no charity case," the kid argues. "I don't even know you."

The kid's little brother spoke up again. "His name's Jack!"

"This here's the famous Jack Kelly," I tell the boys.

"He once escaped from jail on the back of Teddy Roosevelt's carriage. Made all the papes," Crutchie adds.

Jack turns to the younger brother. "Hey, how old are ya, kid?"

"I'm ten! Almost," the boy adds.

Jack lets out a quiet laugh. "If anybody asks, you're seven. Younger sells more papes, and if we're gonna be partners-"

"Who said we want a partner?" The older boy interrupts.

Crutchie looks at him in disbelief. "Uh, sellin' with Jack is tha chance of a lifetime. You learn from him, you learn from the best."

"If he's the best, what's he need with me?" Man, this kid asks a lot of questions.

"'Cause you gotta little brother, and I don't. That puss could easily sell a thousand papes a week." Jack turns to the small kid. "Look sad, kid." The boy sticks out his lower lip dramatically, making puppy dog eyes. Jack grins. "Oh, we're gonna make millions!"

"This is my brother David. I'm Les!" The kid chirps.

"Nice to meet ya, Davey," Jack says. "My two bits come off the top, then we'll split everything 70-30." He turns around to leave.

"50-50!" Les exclaims. "You wouldn't try to pull a fast one on a little kid." My eyes widen as I grin. That kid's good.

"60-40 and that's my final offer," Jack compromises, turning back around.

Les nods. "Deal!" Jack spits into his hand and holds it out. Les copies him, and they shake hands.

Davey watches, shock on his face. "That's disgusting," he states.

Jack shrugs. "It's just business," he replies. "Newsies! Hit the streets!" He shouts. "The sun is up, the headline stinks, and this kid ain't gettin' any younger!"

The newsies begin to disperse, and Jack comes over to me with the two new boys. "Davey, Les, I want ya to meet Annie. She'll be sellin' with us today."

I nod and smile at the boys. "Nice to meet ya."

"But you're a girl," Les says. "Girls don't sell papes."

I let out a soft laugh. "This one does. Now let's get goin', we're losin' daylight."

~~~~~
well, my chapters are getting steadily longer...whoops.
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