(Y/N POV
Im healing very well so far. It must be the fighter genes in me. I'm almost completely healed! I'm writing in my poetry book. poetry is a pastime of mine, but no one knows about it.
When I hear the door creak open I shove it quickly under my pillow. Uh oh it's Racetrack. I quickly run my fingers through the mess of curls on my head.
"How's the eye doing?" He says, reaching for the mark the delancy brothers gave me.
"It could be better", I shyly giggle, "Yourself?"
"Definitely not as bad as Oscar and Morris!" He says confidently.
I laugh as I inch closer to him. He smells of cigars and sweat but I don't mind.
"So...Mush was real kind earlier eh?" He says slyly.
"Yeah... I mean I guess, but you've been... you've been great." I'm now really close to him, as I reach for his hand.
We pull away from each other, Race awkwardly fiddling with his cigar.
"I'm sorry... that was weird, wasn't it?" I say, hoping I didn't just mess up my new found family.
"Um yeah... a little bit... That's not why I came up here-"
I cut him off before he can continue, "No of course not, It's just been a long day and I'm not thinking straight."
Im flustered now. I turn away. How could I be so stupid?
To my relief, Race holds his hand out for me to shake and says, "Friends?"
I spit and shake, "Friends."
He turns to leave as he stops at the doorway, looking back at me.
"Oh and by the way... I think there's another newsie that has eyes for you... but uh, you didn't hear it from me." He smirks as he shuts the door leaving me to wonder...
Who is the secret admirer?
YOU ARE READING
My Shooting Star
FanfictionWhen a small goil meets a stubborn boy on the streets of Manhattan , they both realize that she is his erster and he is her king of New York...
