The Wonderful Queer Story of Racetrack Higgins

We Are Not Alone

I'm sorry to say it but after that freaking climactic power move, this story is going to be wrapping up soon.

SOON. Not NOW.

So you know how Race is really good with kids?

Enjoy! :)

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September turned into October, October turned into November. By now, Race and Spot are both sixteen.

Life's been great.

They haven't seen the Delanceys since that one night, and they hope never to see them again.

Headlines haven't been interesting, but who needs good headlines when you have good talent?

As Jack says: Headlines don't sell papes. Newsies sell papes.

What Jack wouldn't give to hear David say those words back to him again.

Little does he know that Race and Blink and Mush and David have been plotting a surprise for Jack, one that involves David and Christmas that's approaching in a month.

Race, Spot, and Jack have kept going to the meetings of the Cercle Hermaphroditos. This last one they went to, Spot spoke up. Race was so proud of him. They have things worked out: Spot gets to talk to Roland Reeves while they're there, Race gets to talk to Jennie June when they're there. Jack makes friends. These meetings energize them in plenty of similar and different ways.

They're going back again today.

Race has the whole day planned out.

First: he gets his papers. Second: sells at Sheepshead with Spot. Three: Spend a lot of time with Spot. Four: Cercle Hermaphroditos. Five: kiss Spot goodnight and return to the Manhattan newsies lodging house with Jack, so Jack stays happy with him.

He can't wait.

...Once he finds motivation to get out of his bed.

He groans when he hears the bunk above him rattle; that means that Kid Blink is coming down. 

And when Blink comes down, it won't be too long before he's going to get Race up.

He sighs and sits up. Might as well just get up now.

He's feeling much better after he gets to the circulation center. Now he's ready for today.

After he gets his papers, he smiles.

Off to Brooklyn now.

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Race doesn't know how or why it keeps happening, but for some reason, he and Spot always end up at the Brooklyn docks, feet dangling over the edge, watching the sun set together.

Race isn't complaining. He would never complain about something like this.

Especially how now when they sit together, there's no gap in between them at all, Race's head on Spot's shoulder, Spot's head resting on Race's, Spot's arm around Race, their hands intertwined. It's sweet.

And it's everything that Race has ever wanted.

"I'm so glad that we're here," Race tells Spot. "I'm so glad that we got to where we are now."