The Next Edition

Race

The first five chapters are already posted on FanFiction.net, so I'm just dumping them all here now.

Chapter time, chapter time, it is chapter time!

Friday, September 23rd 2005, 1:10 PM

Congratulations, Racer! Ya got yerself anotha detention!

As if he hadn't been stuck in that burning hot classroom enough weeks in a row already, he had to arrive late to at least one class a day, chucking himself right back into the detention room. He had reached a streak of one week without detention now - that week being the current week. It was the curse of Racetrack Higgins. Any tiny, mildly interesting thing on his way to class could cause him several minutes of late arrival. On this day in particular, it had been one small girl, dragging him into a long conversation about which type of horse was the fastest. She had had a surprising amount of knowledge about the subject, which had put Race in a state he liked to call time-doesn't-exist-and-only-right-now-matters. Despite the name of the state of mind, Race had out of nowhere remembered that he was supposed to be going to class. Damn Smalls!

Now that the class was finished and the detention was gotten, he and some others were, not for the first time, forced to listen to someone from the school staff lecture Smalls about who knew what crap she had been up to. This of course meant that they would arrive late for lunch.

After Smalls had ended her weekly lecture with a very fake, "Yeah, understood. I ain't gonna do that anymore," the little group began their quick-pace walk towards the lunch room, where the other newsies in their grade presumably were.

"Wouldja not shout at some random guy in da hallways for jus' one day?" Albert demanded of Smalls.

"Not if he deserves it," Smalls replied nonchalantly, as if everyone always screamed at freshmen in the corridors.

"So did this one attack ya or has he just said somethin'?" Race said, smirking teasingly at the girl. He had now forgotten completely about the detention he'd been given.

"Or did he just exist at a bad time?" Finch's addition to the question only made things worse for him and Race. As everyone else began laughing, they both got a kick in the shins.

"Hey, no need ta be aggressive!" Race scurried forward a bit, avoiding Smalls' still angry feet.

"Racer, yer gonna be da next victim if ya keep sayin' that," Buttons commented, only fueling the laughter further.

"Or maybe you will be," Smalls said, dramatically eyeing Buttons.

From Buttons' reaction to her, Race could tell he didn't feel as threatened as he should by their tiny friend.

The ensemble entered the lunch room, and a few of them; Race included, began looking around for any of their other friends. Henry, Sniper and Tommy Boy had not had the fortune of ending up in the same class as the others during the last period before lunch. Though to be fair, neither had Smalls, but she had still waited for them. It didn't take long for Race to spot Henry, who was standing against a wall and holding a food tray. He was obviously waiting for them; something that Sniper and Tommy Boy had not seemed to care about doing.

"Let's see what abomination they's got for us today," Smalls said as she grabbed a tray off the high tower.

Race stepped in behind her, also grabbing one, and peering over her head to see what the canteens contained. He was highly disappointed when he spotted some kind of brown-ish stew waiting for them. It looked to him like curdled coffee someone had mixed with two-year-old biscuits in an attempt to make an appetizing meal. Needless to say, it did not look appetizing.