Untitled

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want..." Emily Janson watched through teary eyes as the casket containing her mother's body was lowered slowly into the frozen January Earth. She shook her head. Too many things had changed too quickly. Three months ago, she had a family--parents, siblings, a dog, the whole bit. Now, suddenly, she was left with nothing. A Factory fire had killed her brother and father, consumption had claimed the life of her mother, and her dog had run away. Emily was alone in the world, at the young age of 16, and had no one to turn to. Her only choice was to begin a new life.

Sun poured down on Emily's face, signaling the beginning of a new day, the third in her life in New York. She sat up straight on the park bench that was doubling as a bed, and stretched. Three nights in the City, three nights sleeping in various locations, was taking a toll on her back.

She'd find a place to stay, but the only money Emily had to her name was two dollars, to be saved for a "rainy day." Therefore, the first order of business today was to find a job. Only thencould she afford a mattress, or something of close resemblance.

Emily stood up, adjusting the button down shirt she had taken before leaving home. It was difficult enough being 16, and covered in three days worth of dirt, grime and grease -- dressing as a girl would only make things harder. Luckily, she'd realized this before she'd left. She'd taken a pair of her brother's brown pants, a white button down shirt, and a brown cap, figuring he wouldn't be needing them. Three days later, the once white shirt was a dirty grey hue, and the pants were soaked at the cuffs from random puddles of water.

Tucking loose strands of hair back under her cap, Emily stood, and began walking in the general direction of downtown. Where could I get a job?? A Factory? Too Dangerous. A shop apprentice? Too boring. How are possibilities so limited in such a large city?

Emily was so engrossed in her own thoughts she didn't see a pair of boys, about 17 or 18, in her direct path. They, too, were so engrossed in hitting each other over the head that they didn't notice Emily...that is, until she ran directly into them. Bodies collided, and the sheer impact

caused Emily to sit with great force on the ground.

"'Ey, watch where yer walkin', kid..." the first boy, sporting an eyepatch, warned, evidently trying to sound threatening. The second boy, shorter and obviously Italian, looked at him wearily.

"Yeh...I's sure the kid's shakin' in his shoes...you's as intimidatin' as me grandmother..." He rolled his eyes, and offered a hand to Emily, who was still on the ground. "I's Racetrack, otherwise known as Race, and that moron there's Kid Blink...otherwise known as Blink." Kid Blink smiled grimly.

"I'm..." Emily began.

"Obviously a girl tryin' to pass as a boy..." Race finished. Emily looked at him in disbelief. She'd thought her disguise was flawless. As if he'd read her mind, Race pulled a bit on the hair that had escaped from under her cap as a result of the fall.

"You should tie that back better, if you's gonna fool anybody..." He smiled.

"Why ya tryin' to pass as a boy, anyhow?"

"I figured it'd probably be easier to find a job if I were a boy, then a girl..." Emily explained. Blink shook his head. He'd apparently forgiven her for running into him.

"You's lookin' for a job? You can be a newsie...girls can be newsies! Though we ain't never had a girl newsie before..." he trailed off, a look of confusion crossing his face. Race continued.

"To my extensive knowledge, there ain't no rule sayin' girls can't be newsies. So follow me, we'll getcha started. " Emily grinned. Thank God.

Emily followed Race and Blink back to some sort of distribution center, where dozens of Newsies were still waiting for, or reading their papers. Race quickly sought out a boy wearing a red bandana and a cowboy hat, surrounded by a small group of people.

"'Eya, guys, I got someone I wantcha to meet." He pulled Emily to his side.

"This is..." He was hit with the sudden realization that he'd never learned her name.

"Emily," she finished. Race grinned.

"Yeah, Emily. Emily, these are the guys." He pointed to each one of them, listing off names. Jack, Mush, Specs, Skittery, Dutchy, Davey, Itey...obviously these weren't names their mothers had given them. Race turned to Jack.

"Emily here wants to be a newsie. There ain't no rule sayin' she can't, right?"

"I neva heard a one." He turned to Emily. "So, ya wanna be a Newsie, eh? You know anything about hawkin' headlines?" she shook her head. Jack nodded in an understanding way, then turned to the group still surrounding them.

"So who wants to show Emily the ropes today?" The boys looked at each other, hesitantly. Jack looked at them incredulously. "C'mon, she ain't gonna bite ya!" He cried. Finally, a boy with sandy brown hair shrugged. Emily vaguely recalled him being introduced as Skittery.

"Shoa, I guess I could show 'er how things are done." He suggested casually as he lit up a cigarette. Emily eyed him. Don't sound too excited. Jack grinned. "Thanks, Skitts, you's a pal."

"Not a problem, Jack, not a problem. An' don't call me that." Putting the cigarette to his lips and inhaling deeply, he looked her over. No Papes, he thought.

"You need Papes" he concluded. Emily rolled her eyes. Thank You, Captain Obvious. Skittery didn't seem to notice.

"Its pro'lly too late to buy any..and you's pro'lly short on money...so you got one of two choices." He paused. "You can jist watch today...or..." he looked at his own papers, "You can have some a' mine."

Emily narrowed her eyes. She didn't really like this Skittery character so far.

"I'll take some of yours. How hard could this possibly be?" She challenged. Skittery raised his eyebrows, then smirked.

"Well, then, since you know everything there is to know about bein' a newsie, here" he tossed a paper to her. "Sell this." Emily looked down at the paper she held. One particular article caught her eye. She looked back up at Skittery.

"Fine, I will!" Walking to the corner, she put on a confident grin, and raised the paper above her head.

"Extra, Extra! Monkeys an added attraction in travelling circus!!" Her grin slowly faded as passer-bys barely gave her the time of day. She turned back to Skittery, who was obviously trying to choke back a laugh.

"Way to go, Kid..." he took the paper from her. "Watch an' learn." He located himself at the exact spot where she'd just stood, held a paper up, and began to work.

"Extry, Extry!! Rabid Monkeys Loose in Central Park!! No One is Safe!" Emily gaped as five or six people flocked to him, requesting papers. He gladly sold them, a penny each, and thanked the customers with a tip of his hat. As his buyers strolled off in their respected directions, Skittery looked back and smiled sarcastically at Emily, his face clearly saying "so, you wanna show me your winning sales pitch again?" Squinting her eyes in a menacing way, Emily sat down in a huff. It was going to be a long day.

Contrary to Emily's prediction, the day moved by fairly quickly. Instead of watching Skittery and selling newspapers, she observed the crowds. Being born and raised in a small town, Emily'd never seen such an array of people -- ethnicities, social statuses, ages, it was almost too much to handle. She took in as much as she could in the hours she was supposed to be learning the tricks of the trade from Skittery. Before she knew it, the sky had streaks of pink and orange in it, a signal that the sun was setting, and dinner was soon to come.

Skittery had just finished up selling his last paper to a woman dragging a small girl behind her by the arm. He turned to Emily.

"C'mon," he beckoned simply, as he began to walk away. Emily got up and ran to catch up.

"Where are we going?" She demanded. Skittery kept walking. "I said, where are we going?" She tried again. No response. Emily pursed her lips, and jumped infront of him, forcing him to stop and look at her.

"Where. Are we. Going?!" She repeated slowly, as if she were talking to a small child. Skittery raised an eyebrow.

"Anyone ever tell you you talk funny?" Emily's ears turned red in frustration.

"If you don't tell me where we're going this instance, I swear to God, I'll be..." Skittery raised his hands in defeat.

"We's goin' to get dinner! Geez, don't have a heart attack or nothin', I'd hate to have to be the one to revive you..." Emily had to supress an urge to throttle the boy as he pushed past her and walked the rest of the distance to a small restaurant called Tibby's. Emily followed him bitterly.

"'Eya Skitts!!" Various greetings were shouted as the door opened, triggering the little bell above it to ring. Skittery flashed a brief smile, and joined Race, Dutchy and Mush at a table. Emily hesitated for a second, and then pulled a chair up next to Race.

"So, Emily, how was your first day on the job?" Dutchy inquired after a waiter had taken their orders. Emily forced a smile.

"It was...enlightening..." she said through nearly clenched teeth. Skittery calmly took a sip of his water. Dutchy, Mush and Race exchanged glances.

"Em....think ya got it down then?" Mush asked. Emily sighed.

"As much as I ever will." She glanced at Skittery, who seemed to hold no interest in the

conversation, as he was skimming through one of the papers Mush hadn't sold. Suddenly, the bell above the door rang, causing everyone at the table to look up. Standing in the door was a

girl, blonde with large blue eyes, wearing what was considered an immodest amount of close,

her natural face hiding behind an abundance of makeup. Emily couldn't help but laugh.

"Who's that?" Skittery gave her a Look.

"Her name's Colleen." Emily waited for a further explanation and when she didn't receive one, prompted him.

"And..." Skittery stood up from the table, walked over to the girl, and slipped an arm around her waist.

"And she's me girlfriend."

"And she's me girlfriend." Emily choked back a laugh. Who in their right mind would even consider dating...him. Of course, judging from the appearance of the girl, she was not, in fact, in her right mind. Race must have been thinking the same thing, as he was rubbing his finger over his mouth, trying to conceal a chuckle.

"Why don'tcha have a seat, Colleen...." he suggested. Colleen grinned.

"I'd be glad to!! Come on, Skittery," she pulled him back to the table, and sat down. Emily held out a hand.

"'Hi, Colleen, I'm Emily," she introduced herself politely. Colleen looked at her hand suspiciously, then took it, plastering the fakest grin Emily had ever seen onto her face.

"So good to meet you!!" she tittered in her highly obnoxious voice. Emily looked at Skittery, who was staring down at the table, and smirked.

"So...Skitts," she began, purposely using the name she'd heard him tell Jack not to use, "How come you never told me you had a girlfriend?" Skittery looked up.

"I didn't think it was none a your business...." He spat out. Emily grinned.

"Well, it certainly looks like you picked yourself a winner," she replied sarcastically, though hiding it enough to fool Colleen. Fire gleamed in Skittery's eye.

"C'mon, Colleen, lets get outta here." He said shortly, never taking his eyes of Emily. Colleen looked somewhat confused. "But we just got here..."

Skittery looked at her. "I said, lets get outta here!" His girlfriend shrugged, but followed obediently, until they were out the door.

Race looked at Emily. "You's gonna have yourself a mortal enemy by the end a' the week," he informed her. Emily shrugged.

"Is he always in such a lousy mood?" Dutchy shrugged.

"Pro'lly...we've all gotten used to it, though."

"Yeah," Mush interjected, "we just ignore him when he gets like this." Emily nodded. He must get ignored pretty often. Finding no reason to further discuss the perpetually pissed Newsie, she changed the subject.

"So...do you guys know a place I could stay the night at?" She inquired.

Mush looked at her in disbelief.

"Skittery didn't tell you?"

"All Newsies stay at the Newsboys Lodgin' House." Dutchy supplied the information for her. Emily scoffed. He probably didn't tell me on purpose.

"Yeah, and first night's free, in case you don't got no money. I's assuming you don't, since you didn't sell today," Race finished. Emily shook her head to assure that she didn't. The boys looked at each other.

"Well, since we ain't doin' anything here, lets go get you settled!" Mush suggested. Emily shrugged.

"Alright." She picked up her hat, and the four set off for the lodging house. Luckily, the walk was short, and within a few short minutes, the quartet entered a cozy looking building.

"'Eya, Kloppman, I got someone for you to meet. This is Emily. She's lookin' for a place to stay," Race introduced her to an old but gentle looking man sewing a patch on a pair of pants behind the front desk. He looked up.

"A girl, huh? Well, you've come to the right place, if you don't mind roomin' with a bunch of slobs who can never wake up on time," he grinned.

Emily smiled. This old man reminded her of the grandpa she'd never known.

"I don't mind, I'm just looking for a mattress." Kloppman pushed a book towards her.

"Well, sign in here. First night's free, all nights after that are 7 cents, dinner served provided its wanted." Emily scrawled her name on a free line, and returned the book.

"C'mon, lets get you settled," Race beckoned. Emily followed, but was stopped by Kloppman.

"Oh, and if any of those monkey's try anything on you, you have my permission to deck one of them." He winked at her, extracting a laugh.

"Don't worry, I will."

By the time Emily had settled, it was near 9:30, and newsies began trickling in. Emily lay on her bottom bunk and observed. None of them would have arrived so early, except for that tonight, Thursday, was the House's poker night.

A circle of boys gathered in the middle of the room, and began gambling away what extra money they'd earned over the week. Emily watched with amusement as the boys cursed when they folded, and did miniature victory dances when they won. Race, Jack, and Specs seemed to be ahead in the game while Mush, Blink and Snoddy trailed far behind. Meanwhile, other

newsies were engaged in conversations or card and die games, while still others opted to go to bed early.

Looking around, Emily noticed a lot of new faces, but couldn't seem to find her new best friend, Skittery. She pushed it out of her mind as she changed into the long undershirt Jack had lent her to sleep in, and climbed under her covers. The three previous, restless nights had caused her to lose sleep, and this was the first chance she had to make it up. She was almost asleep when an angelic voice disturbed her.

"Oh, this is jist me luck! The devil is bunkin' next to me!" Emily opened her eyes tiredly to see Skittery standing above her, his belongings thrown on the bunk to her right.

"Get over it, you big baby." She mumbled, and closed her eyes. She was sound asleep before Skittery could make another asinine comment. Jack, who had heard everything, strolled over to Skittery.

"Gee, Skitts, don't go outta your way to make her feel welcome or nothin'..." He commented as Skittery removed his trousers, vest and shirt.

The boy rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well..." he responded, no better answer coming to his head. Jack sighed.

"Well, whatever. We's all goin' to bed, so see you in the morning." He said, before strolling back to his bunk. Skittery climbed into his own. This girl's gonna make me life a livin' hell, he thought, as he watched Emily sleep.

Look at her. She looks all innocent when she's sleepin'. Any unsuspectin' fool would take her for a human bein'. Skittery knotted his eyebrows. Maybe tomorrow she'll stay outta me way, He thought finally, before shutting his eyes, and falling asleep.

******************************************

"Get up, ya lazy bums! Ya can't sleep all day!! People want their news, and you gotta give it to 'em! Get up, Get up, Get up!" Emily shoved her head under her pillow upon being jarred from her sleep by the voice of the old man.

"Agggh..." she moaned. "There's gotta be a job out there that I don't have to wake up this early for!"

She pulled her head out from the pillow long enough to look out the window on the other side of

the room. Her eyes widened.

"What time is it, anyhow!! The sun just rose!"

"Its 5:30, an' quit whinin', you're not the only one up this early."

Emily groaned again. The ten minutes that she hadn't known of Skittery's existance was the happiest ten minutes of her life, being up at 5:30 or not.

"Yeah, well, I'm not used to it," she scowled, as she grabbed her clothes from under the bed.

"Turn around," she ordered him. Skittery looked at her skeptically.

"What makes you think I'd wanna see you with no clothes on?" he scoffed.

"Just turn around!!" He did as was told. Emily quickly dressed, and headed into the wash room. Finding a free sink, she hastily washed her face, and combed through her hair. I'm going to have to wash up sometime today, she thought, somewhat disgusted with the fact that she hadn't in nearly a week. Newsie or other, Emily was a stickler for hygeine.

Emily thought briefly about concealing her hair under her hat, but decided against it. The whole "poor, dirty girl" bit would probably work nicely in the persuasion of customers. She exited the washroom to make room for others, and passed Skittery, who was still turned around facing his bunk.

"Can I turn around now?" He asked, not knowing that she'd been done dressing for the last ten minutes. Stifling a laugh, Emily continued down the stairs with no reply.

Emily quickly made her way to the distribution office, and bought her 30 papers. She figured it was a good number to start on. As it was explained to her the day before, she knew no one was to leave the distribution office until Jack was ready. So as she waited, she skimmed over the headlines for stories with potential. She'd found about 10, when finally, she was allowed to hit the streets, beginning her first day as a newsie.

Hours passed, and by lunch, Emily had sold all her newspapers. Though it was somewhat difficult, and lying was certainly not her forte, she had a feeling she could get used to this lifestyle. Remembering vaguely that everyone met for lunch at Tibby's, she headed off in the general direction of the restaurant, hoping not to get lost on the way.

A half an hour passed before Emily'd found the restaurant, after stopping and asking directions from several strangers. The majority of the newsies had beat her there, so she had to squeeze in a booth with Davey, Jack, Race and Boots. She quickly ordered a sandwich, and listened to the conversation taking place. The boys were discussing something that'd happened in Brooklyn a few days before, and since Emily didn't know what was going on, sat back and listened contently. She smiled to herself. This day is really goin' pretty good. Skittery hasn't shown up once. She closed her eyes briefly to reflect upon her good luck, and when she opened them, realized that good luck no longer exist. There sat Skittery, directly across from her, ordering something from the waiter. She groaned, causing him to look at her oddly.

"So, I see ya sold all your papes," he commented, noticing the lack of papers infront of her. She gave him a Look.

"What are you trying to imply? I sold all of them, fair and square," she barked.

"Look, all I said was..." He began.

"I Don't care what you said! I sold all my papers, without any help from you!" Skittery glanced at her, and mumbled something. Emily glared at him.

"What did you say?" she whispered icily. Skittery hesitated briefly, before building up the nerve to repeat what he'd just said.

"I jist said that a couple a guys pro'lly owed you a favor or two," he paused, and raised his eyebrows. "If you get me drift." Emily clenched her teeth and closed her eyes briefly, trying to count to ten. It didn't work. She smiled sweetly.

"Skittery, did anyone ever tell you that you're a real bastard?" He shrugged.

"Didn't your mother ever teach ya manners?" That was the last straw.

Emily grabbed a hold of Skittery's shirt, despite the fact that he was three inches taller than her, and outweighed her by at least 30 pounds. She began yelling, in the New York accent she'd heard so much in the past 5 days.

"Me mother was the best mother anyone could eva' have!! That goes for me father too!! And if you eva' , eva' bring 'em up, again, I swear to God, I'll mess your face up so bad New Yo..."

Skittery wasn't listening. This whole angry-as-hell Emily was appealing to him, and he couldn't help but think that she was kind of cute when she was mad. Going against all judgment, he abruptly pulled her hands off his shirt, and kissed her, catching her offguard. She loosened up for a second, but as quick as she did, pulled away, planted a strong right hook right on his chin, and stormed out the door. Skittery hesitated briefly, then ran out the door after her, rubbing his jaw in the process. As soon as the door shut, Race stood up on a chair.

"I guess I was right!" he smirked. "Pay up, boys!"

Emily burst out of Tibby's, seeing red. She couldn't make sense of what had just happened, and frankly, had no desire to. What was Skittery thinking?! Did he think she would enjoy that? And what about his girlfriend, Claire or whatever her name was? All Emily knew was that she hated Skittery now, more than ever.

Emily threw open the doors of the lodging house.

"If anyone asks, I'm not here," she informed a very baffled looked Kloppman before trudging up the stairs to the bunkroom.

Lacking better things to do, she grabbed a towel, and headed to the shower. Maybe that'd calm her down. She quickly stripped of her clothing, hung them over the door to the stall, and began scrubbing away at the weeks worth of grime piled upon her skin.

Skittery entered the lodging house, looking some what winded, and very confused. He spotted Kloppman sitting behind the desk.

"'Eya, Kloppman, you seen Emily?" He asked, drawing in a deep breath after he'd formed the words. The old man shook his head.

"Not recently..." a look of frustration crossed Skittery's face. "Why, she owe ya money or somethin'?" Skittery shook his head.

"Nah, I jist...needed to talk to her." He shrugged. "I guess I'll head up to the room, then." Kloppman's eyes widened a bit.

"Wait!" Skittery turned around.

"If you uh...don't have anythin' to do, why dontcha...help me wash the dishes!" The old man suggested.

Skittery shrugged. It'd only take a few minutes. Maybe Emily would show up while he was helping.

"Shoa, why not?" He followed Kloppman to the kitchen.

Upstairs, Emily had finished her shower quickly, for fear that some of the boys may arrive back at Tibby's early. She quickly redressed, and threw herself on her bunk, her wet hair saturating the pillow. It felt good to be clean. Of course, the sensation would have been twice as good, had

her clothes been washed too, but this would have to do. She closed her eyes, and attempted to erase the last hour from her memory, when she heard footsteps clomping up the stairs. Ugh, please don't let it be him, God, please don't let it be him. No such luck. Skittery threw the door open to the bunk room, scanning it briefly before catching Emily's eye. She rolled over with her back to him. Skittery sighed.

"Look, I'se sorry..." he mumbled. No response. He sat down on the bunk next to hers.

"I said I'se sorry. I don't know what else you want," He continued sharply. Emily narrowed her eyes, and sat up.

"You think that's all it takes? Two words that probably have no significance to you whatsoever? First, you insult my mother....my dead mother, at that..." Skittery's face turned a crimson red. "....And then, you kiss me like it'll make everything better. I dunno how things work with Claire..."

"Colleen" he interruped. Emily rolled her eyes.

"Fine." She continued. "I don't know how things work with Colleen, but your pathetic excuse for a kiss and two words aren't going to do you much good."

She knew that comment about the kiss stung, but thats what it was supposed to do. Skittery's eyes widened.

"Pathetic Excuse? You liked it, and you know it!" Emily laughed, condescendingly.

"Well, its true!" He continued, slyly. " Besides, if you hadn't, you woulda reacted faster." Skittery grinned smugly. Emily raised her eyebrows.

"Well, it looks as though someone's ego is overriding their good judgment. Tell me, darling Skittery, who would want to kiss a flea-bitten mutt like yourself?" Skittery bit his tongue.

"Well, dear Emily, you ain't much higher up, society wise, at the present moment a' time," he shot back.

"Maybe not, but I'll always be better than you." She replied, calmly.

"Look, do you think you can refrain from talking to me?" Emily requested cooly.

"If you don't like me talkin', maybe you should leave," Skittery suggested.

"I'm not leavin'." She informed him shortly, laying down and rolling over to face the opposite directly.

"Fine. Neither am I," he replied, also rolling over to face the opposite directon.

"Fine!" There was silence. Emily listened for any sounds of movement, indicating his departure, but heard none. Finally, she closed her eyes, before drifting off to an angry sleep.

Emily awoke later that night to find the bed beside hers empty. However, the remaining Newsies had filed in, and were getting ready for the night. She quickly changed out of her clothing, and climbed under the covers. It wasn't long before Race had made his way to her bunk.

"So," he began, sitting down on the edge of Emily's bed, "You and Skitt lova's yet?" Emily snorted.

"Not in this lifetime, or the next...or the next." She retorted. Race rolled his eyes.

"Give it time, Emily, give it time." He grinned, while Emily knotted her brow. She was silent for a second, as if she was hesitating to ask Race something. She finally continued.

"Where'd uh...Skittery go?" She asked, as nonchalantly as possible.

A knowing smile spread across Race's face. He took a puff of his ever-present cigar before he answered.

"He had ta meet Colleen somewhere. Things don't look bright fer their future, at all," he informed her.

"Too bad, so sad. They were such a perfect couple too...the twit and the moron."

Race looked at her skeptically. It was only obvious that she had a slight "thing" for Skittery, even if she didn't know it herself. He sighed, and stood up.

"Yeah, well, I don't suggest you say anything ta him when he gets back. I's sure he ain't gonna be in the best a' moods." Emily nodded to indicate that she understood.

"'Night, Emily," he said, heading towards his bunk.

"Night Race." Emily laid back, ready to fall asleep whenever the lights were turned out, when the door burst open, and an angry figure stormed in.

"She dumped me!" The figure cried. "Apparently, Newsies ain't good enough for Colleen. Colleen needs upper class guys. High society. Boys with ink stains on their hands jist ain't cut out for the goddess that is Colleen."

The figure, presumably Skittery, stormed over to his bunk, and rapidly began getting changed for bed. Emily had never seen anyone move so quickly. Skittery quickly glanced in her direction.

"Oh yay, the beast, she awakens." He spat in his ever optimistic tone.

Emily ignored the remark, and rolled over onto her stomach, where she buried her face in her pillow to keep from laughing aloud at Skittery's misfortune. She didn't hide it well enough, as Skittery caught sight of her shaking with laughter.

"Y'know, this is your fault. You's a jinx. You came here, and me life went to hell. Before you came, I was jist annoyed. Now I'm downright pissed off." He muttered, climbing into bed.

Emily said nothing, but pretended to fall asleep. Skittery also closed his eyes, growing more fatigued by the second. One last thought crossed his mind before he drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

"I s'pose you's happy with that arrangement."

Days, then weeks, passed, as Emily continued on her life as a Newsie. She'd quickly grown to love, or at least appreciate, the majority of the boys she lived with, and "improvin' the truth," as Jack referred it, was easier than ever. Her educated accent was gone as the New York lingo washed over her vocabulary. As for the "Skittery Dilemma," they'd fallen upon an unspoken agreement. Emily would stay out of Skittery's way, if Skittery stayed out of hers.

One thing, however, that Emily had not grown used to, was Kloppmans incessant early morning wake up calls. Which was exactly what he was doing.

"Get up, get up, get up! The presses aren't gonna stop rollin' jist for you lousy bums! C'mon, the people want their news! Get up!" He shouted, pacing up and down the room, his eye out for stragglers. Emily sat up to signify that she was, in fact, awake.

She stretched. Awright, Emily, pull yourself outta bed. If you get ready fast enough, maybe you can lay back down for a little while. The idea was motivating. Emily yawned again, stood up, and hastily readied for the day.

The process, for her, required less time than it did for the boys, as she didn't need to shave. Knowing that her comrades would take at least another fifteen minutes to get ready, Emily laid back down on her bunk. Just fifteen more minutes, she promised herself, before dozing off. 15 minutes passed, then 30, then 45. A rough hand shook Emily from her sleep. She opened her eyes to see Kloppman.

"Are you sick, Emily? Is that why you're not selling today?" He inquired. Emily looked at him blankly.

"Naw, I was jist waiting for..." she turned her head toward the washroom.

"...The boys..." She finished, seeing no one there. Her eyes widened.

"Uh...gotta go!" She cried, grabbing her hat, and darting out of the room.

Please, oh please, don't let them run outta papes...Emily prayed silently as she darted through the streets. The usual wanderers, businessmen, and workers had moved on with their schedules, and weren't at their normal posts as Emily bound through New York. The nuns had even packed up their bread and coffee and headed back to the convent. As she neared the Distribution Office, her prayers, and hopes of at least being able to collect a few papers, slowly vanished. The carts had wheeled away, the gates had been shut, there wasn't a trace of anyone, or anything, including papers. Emily sat down on the curb, frustrated. This is great. Jist terrific. She complained bitterly to herself. The fierce growling of her stomach snapped her out of the trance. She'd never had the chance to get breakfast, as the nuns were gone, and on top of that, last night's dinner was non-existant, due to a poker game she'd become involved with...and lost. Shrugging to herself, she stood up. I'll wander.

And wander she did. In the months that she'd been in New York, she'd never really taken in the sites. Selling papers didn't allow it, especially with the added stress of constantly trying to think up good headlines. Emily picked a direction, left, and began walking. She took in the sounds, the faces, and especially the scents, as her stomach groaned even louder. She ignored it, and it soon passed.

Emily walked for a few more minutes, watching the street vendors bargain, when a sudden wave of nausea passed over her. I'gotta sit down, Emily thought. The nausea was soon

accompanied by a thin black film-like haze covering her vision. Emily found a bench, and sat, appeasing the symptoms, if only for a few seconds. When all seemed to be back to normal, Emily stood. Unfortunately, she was quite wrong, as the moment she stood up, the nausea and haze were back, now accompanied by dizziness. I jist gotta get back to the Lodgin' House and I'll be good, she told herself, taking a few steps. A few steps were too many, however, as the third she took, she passed out.

Emily awoke, with a pounding headache, to see two somewhat frightening faces staring down at her.

"Well, well, well, Morris, what do we have here? The girl newsie, it looks like!" The first, sporting a bowler cap, announced. The second, Morris, just laughed. The first grinned.

"What's yer name, girl?" Emily scowled.

"Like I'd tell ya." The boy pushed his lip out in a pout.

"Aww, c'mon, me name's Oscar. Now will ya tell me?"

"Not a chance in hell." "Oscar" frowned.

"Well, it looks like I's gonna have to make ya," he informed her, his face nearing hers. Emily raised an eyebrow, just in time for Oscar to plant his lips firmly on hers. Emily's eyes shot open, and she bit down roughly on his bottom lip.

"God, you she-devil, what the hell??" Oscar demanded, pulling away quickly. Emily frowned.

"You shouldn'ta done that," She supplied him, attempting to get up. Morris pushed her back down. Oscar shook his head.

"No, see, you shouldn'ta bit me...Morris, hand 'em over..." he beckoned, holding out his right hand. Emily wondered what "them" were, but stayed silent. Her question was answered as a pair of brass knuckles was handed to Oscar. Aww shit, She thought, angrily. Why'd I even get

outta bed. Her thoughts were interrupted with a swift kick to the side, followed quickly by a cold fist landing somewhere on her face. She couldn't place it, though, as red, then black, quickly consumed her, again.

Skittery had sold a third of his papes by 9:00, and was heading to his next post to continue. He passed by an alley, glancing briefly at it to notice Oscar and Morris Delancey, the resident goons, exiting it. Oscar held a finger to his lip to stop was looked like bleeding, mumbling

something about "damned Newsies," while Morris packed away what appeared to be brass knuckles. They both glared at Skittery as they passed by, obviously too exasperated to care about trying to "soak him." Skittery, curious as to who their target was, and what harm they'd done to him, turned towards the alley. He skimmed it briefly, finding no one, and was turning to leave when he heard a slight moan from over amongst the trash cans. He rushed over to find a girl he knew all to well lying there, barely conscious. Her right cheek bone was black and blue, and Skittery was sure more harm had been done to her than just a quick blow to the face. He sighed.

"Congratulations, Emily, you had yer first run in with the Delancey's," he mumbled, picking her up gently. Under normal circumstances, he would have left her there, but a slight nagging ordered him otherwise. If anything, he wasn't going to have her die and feel guilty about it for the rest of his earthly existance. Abandoning the remainder of his papers, he headed back to the lodging house.

"'Eya, Kloppy, look what I found," he called, upon entering. The old man retreated from his office to find what looked like an unconscious girl lying in Skittery's arms. He looked at him with questioning eyes.