a striking pair | f.c

Chapter Five

"Yer gonna fall."

Lane glowered up at Ticks who was watching her carefully. "I ain't gonna fall, ya worry wart. If dere's one thing I ain't, it's clumsy. Can Crutchie come ta tha window?"

"Is tha two a' ya lovers, or somethin'?" He asked, reaching down his hand to help her up.

She spat on it to let him know exactly what she thought of him at that moment, causing him to quickly draw the hand back, as if he'd been burnt. "We ain't lovers, Tickles. I got me butt rejected yest-ah-day by his friend, so I ain't gonna be lookin' fa love again anytime soon."

Ticks apparently had no interest whatsoever in her so-called love life, grumbling to himself as he left to get Crutchie, wiping his hand on his pants.

When they'd both finally made it up to the window, the boy frowned, looking like he'd seen better days. "You again."

"Yep." Lane shrugged. "Good ol' me. I fig-ahed you'd be grateful fa tha change a'... scenery."

"It's jus..." Crutchie slumped down onto the floor and leaned against the wall. "I thought ya was someone else."

She sighed. "Sorry, kid. Anythin' I can do ta make it up ta ya?"

"Well..." Crutchie hesitated, before his stomach rumbled slightly. "Some food would be great..." Seeing that she was actually considering it, he quickly interjected. "Dat was a joke. It's jus a joke, Lane. Don't worry 'bout it, I'll be fine."

"Alright," Lane said convincingly, but she was never one to tell the truth.

"Wha exactly went down between Finch 'n ya?" Crutchie asked instead. "When did ya meet him?"

"It's a pretty dull story, if Ise bein' honest," she told him truthfully, gazing down. "Me faddah was a trolley strik-ah, 'n I was, too. A few days ago, I bumped in-ta Finch, 'n we kinda got off on tha wrong foot, but it was jus a... misunderstandin'. He promised ta stop by tha next day, 'cause we... Anyway, I didn't see him tha next day 'til lat-ah, 'cause he was busy wit plannin' tha stike I didn't know about at tha time, so I got mad, but den he was like, 'oh, yeah, Pulitz-ah raised tha price 'a papes,' so I was like, 'oh ok, guess I'll let it slide,' 'n den he-"

"Lane!" Crutchie held up a hand, chuckling. "Jus tell me 'bout wha happened wit you two aft-ah."

"Aft-ah. Right." Lane took a deep breath, smiling sheepishly. "Me faddah... he passed away tha oth-ah day..."

"Oh," whispered Crutchie. "Oh man, Ise so sorry-"

"It's fine," she cut him off, dragging a finger down an iron bar, angry and pained. "Anyway... dat's why I joined tha newsie strike."

"'Cause ya wanted ta honour him?" Crutchie guessed.

'Cause I wanted revenge against the Delancey brothers.

"Yeah, dat's it." Lane didn't want to talk about the Delancey brothers, unsure how Crutchie would feel about it. "So anyway, we fought, tha fight ended, 'n I stupidly told Finch dat I liked him."

The boy blinked. "But ya only met him-"

"-A few days ago, I know." Lane sighed. "And it ain't like I was expectin' him ta take out a ring, n' propose ta me dere 'n den, but... I thought we had somethin'." She gazed past him, into the refuge. "He told me I wasn't thinkin' straight, dat I was jus delirious from tha pain a' losin'... everythin', I guess."

"Ya haven't lost me," Crutchie reasoned, trying to be positive.

She smiled at him sadly. "Ya can't lose somethin' ya nev-ah had, kid. Far as Ise concerned, ya want nothin' ya do wit me. I don't blame ya, ta tell ya tha truth. I coulda saved ya if I had tried harder, but I didn't, 'n now yer payin' tha price."