Dszahdh - A Newsies Oneshot Book

Just a Trim and a Snip - Race X Reader

Hello my Famsies!

Because Race is my favorite flirty baby, I have decided this oneshot will be a Race X Reader. Yippee!

If you enjoy the story, please consider leaving a star and some comments. I love reading your feedback/reactions! Ideas for future stories are also welcome.

I love and appreciate you all. Thanks for reading!

-:-:-:-

Manhattan, September, 1899

You stared at your distorted reflection in the grimy mirror of the Lodge bathroom, tossing your bangs out of your face. It was just hair. Of course you knew it was just hair. But by Jove it was the one thing that kept the boys from knowing you were not of their species!

It had been growing out for some time, almost six months at that point, and it was now reaching dangerous lengths.

You had choppily hacked it off into a messy pixie before you had first gone out to become a newsie. Both the hair, as well as clothes that hid your more... voluptuous figure, contributed to the boyish image you had worked so hard to establish and maintain. It wasn't entirely honest, but it protected you from the dangers of being a girl out on the street. Sure, you may get soaked every once in a while, but that was sure better than some other things that could happen.

A sudden and harsh knocking jolted you from your thoughts.

"You's plottin' your get rich quick scheme in there? Cause if so, I wants in." You heard a familiar voice on the other side of the thin wood.

"No, Race. And even if I was, I wouldn't let you in on it. You'd lose all my earnin's to poorly placed bets!" You heard a thump and a rustle of fabric on the other side of the door. You quickly smoothed your chin-length hair into a small nub of a pony tail on the top of your head and slapped your cap on before opening the bathroom door to see what had happened. You found a very dead-looking Race on the floor.

"Look at what's you've done now, Locks! You's killed Race!" Though you got your nickname from your uncanny ability to get into locked things (namely Davey's hilariously cute diary), the connection to hair made you wince a bit.

Locks of hair. Lots of hair. FRICKIN HAIR. Dang, where were the scissors when you needed them?! You needed to vent, so obviously you kicked Race.

Why?

Well, he was there.

And he's too cocky for his own good and needs to be taken down a few notches every once in a while.

And because he rushed you out of the bathroom.

And because he won't notice yo- Wait oops no he thinks you're a boy Ha ha. Also, whaaaaaaaat??

Well... whatever. You kicked him. So there.

"OWWWWW."

"Serves you right for just lying right in the middle of the walkway." You snapped back, stepping over the boy in pain.

"Oof, that's a just adding insult to injury."

"Locks kicked 'im where the sun don't shine."

"Harsh... you'd think he'd empathize at lest a little."

You heard from various boys throughout the Lodge. Oh. Oops. You couldn't decide if your aim was horrible or terrific.

"Looooooooocks... you hurt meeeee." Race called out to you.

"Yeah yeah, suck it up, buttacup. I didn't even kicks ya that hard."

"C'mon man, you knows how much that hurts. Give 'im a break." Albert advised from across the room where he was tying the mismatched laces on his boots.