a purposeful past | s.s

Chapter Four

"Why won't ya jus sit down?"

"I ain't gettin' me clothes all full 'a dirt!"

"Yer a newsie. Wese practically a magnet fa dirt!"

"Well, I ain't gonna get a bunch 'a dirt on me if I can help it!"

Specs sighed, staring at her blankly from where he was already sitting down against the tree. "I have no clue how ya manage ta sell even one pape without scarin' away folks."

Domino rubbed her hands together. "I have me tricks dat I like ta use fa moments like those."

"Mm." Specs didn't break eye contact. "Was those tha same tricks ya used when ya stormed into tha lodge, made a very bad foist impression by kidnappin' me-"

"I brought ya back," she retorted.

"-'n claimed you was now livin' wit us?" he concluded.

"Foistly, no, I nev-ah use tha same trick twice," Domino stated. "Secondly, it ain't forev-ah. Plus, I sleep at a table. A table. I ain't takin' up any 'a yer precious space. Don't be dramatic."

She easily remembered the moment she declared that she would be staying at the newsies lodging house for the time being. She wanted to be close to Manhattan until this was all over, and the walk from Flushing to there was a long one. She also really did not want to end up sleeping on the ground beside some tree. She really didn't.

The man who was in charge of the place had observed her somewhat, as if to see if she could've been considered a threat to those boys, until she'd fixed him with a cold, calculated look, and he'd looked away smiling ever so slightly.

Apparently she'd passed his test, whatever it had been.

"We told ya dere was a bed on top 'a Amy's!" Specs retorted. "Ya even saw it fa yerself when we found tha violin!"

"Right," Domino said slowly, "and ya expect me ta wanna sleep in tha same room, alone, wit tha goil who's obviously traumatized 'n hates me? Even if dat room was a lot clean-ah den tha rest 'a tha lodge..."

"Hey, you was tha one was pushin' all dat 'don't trust nobody' stuff on us," Specs reminded her, spreading out his hands in front of him in a show of peace before she could snap back at him. "And, oh, we know. It ain't like ya ran though tha lodge, pickin' up anythin' dat was visible ta tha naked eye or anythin'. Yer like tha female version 'a Davey. Honestly."

"Well, it's yer fault fa not cleanin' up tha place every once 'n a while like any oth-ah normal human bein'," Domino muttered, peeved. She may not have known any of the other newsies for long, but she knew enough about the boy in question to recognize that he'd meant the comparison as an insult.

"Ya sure do like cleanin' up a lot fa someone who dumps all 'a her unwanted opinions everywhere," Specs grumbled.

Domino narrowed her eyes at him, wishing she could say that this wasn't the boy she'd known as a little girl. Some people really do stay the same. She was sure the same couldn't be said about herself. "Alright, dat's it. Wese goin' sellin'."

Specs gazed up at her in tearful disbelief. No, seriously, she thought his eyes seemed a bit glossy behind his glasses. "Yer serious? I jus sat down!"

"Terrible," Domino said, no emotion coating her tone whatsoever. "C'mon. Wese gonna lose all our customers ta tha oth-ah boys. Ya get ta be lazy when yer done sellin', 'n a few extra coins is in yer pockets."

"Such a Muddah Hen," Specs grumbled once more, rolling his eyes, but allowed her to haul him up. "Alright, alright, fine. I wanna see how ya can possibly get any customers wit yer attitude. Yer sellin' partner back in Flushin' must a real handsome fellow wit some real good charm."