peach | racetrack higgins

Ch. 4 The Boy With The Walking Mouth

July 23rd, 1899

I woke up the next morning, unusually energized and ready for the day. Usually, I despised waking up from my dreaming and facing the real world, but today I was something close to ecstatic about getting outside and carrying the banner.

With a song running through my head, I pulled on my suspenders and my cap. A sharp knock at the door told me it was time to go, so I quickly put on my boots and sprinted out of my room. The only reason I had a room to myself was because of my gender, even though I insisted it wasn't necessary, but Spot didn't care. He shares a room with his girlfriend, Kenna, anyway.

Kenna walks by me as I step outside, "Hey, Peaches, how goes it?"

I like her. She doesn't have an accent like the rest of us, she was educated and everything. She teaches me to read sometimes, which is something I've always been too shy to admit I struggle at. Most of the guys can't read real well, but they say they don't need it when they got good headlines.

"S'goin' good, Ken. How goes it with youse and the devil 'imself?" I joked.

"Ah, he's as manly as ever, you know? But hey, I can't wait until you get a boy of your own." She smiled. She was about two to three inches taller than me, which wasn't hard. I was only average sized.

"Ain't no way of that happenin'." My brother scoffed behind us, taking Ken's hand.

I rolled my eyes, "Wouldja remove the stick from your ass fa' ten seconds to realize you don't make all the decisions?"

Spot hit the bill of my cap down in my face, making it fall down, "Not jus' that, no man's gonna go fa' youse with that mouth."

"Ya wanna bet on that, Spit?"

"Yeesh, would ya cool it with ya gamblin' addiction?" He rolled his eyes again.

"Nah."

***

"Extra, extra, new disease discovered in Western Europe!" I called out. A woman dropped a nickel in my hand, and I handed her a pape, tipping my hat as she went. I learned to conceal my gender over the years of selling newspapers, cause nobody takes a girl wearing pants very seriously. Not just customers, but also assholes like the Delanceys. They take pleasure in soaking poor orphan boys, and they would do so much worse if they found a girl.

Every morning, I braided my hair up and pinned it to my head, concealing it completely with my cap. Topping off the boyish look, I would always rub a little bit of dirt on my face.

My happy mood continued all throughout the day, as I practically skipped from one selling spot to the other. I hummed various songs to myself, particularly this one:

"Boy, I hear you
In my dreams
I hear your whisper, across the sea
Keep you with me, in my heart
You make it easier when life gets hard
Lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again."

I sang to myself as I walked from in street corner to another.

"That song meant for anyone in particular, princess?" I heard someone say behind me. Fearing the worst, I turned frantically and threw my hands up to defend myself. At my actions, the person froze. I removed my hands from my vision to see someone I'd rather not - Bucky. We called him Bucky because it was short for his full name, James Buchanan Barnes. Sure, he was a nice guy, and he was incredibly attractive, but God, he's so flirtatious. If he would be serious for one second, I might even go for him. Though, something I'd prefer not to admit was my growing admiration for him.

I sighed, "Whadda ya want, Buck?"

He twirled his pocket watch. He wasn't exactly rich, but he certainly was compared to someone like me. The good thing about him was, he never really rubbed it in that he had actual money.

"Jus' was wandering around town, and then I heard the voice of an angel singing something I never heard before." He looked at me, and those beautiful eyes of his could hypnotize me and make me do anything they asked. Alright, so I had a minor crush on the guy.

"Alright, are youse gonna buy a pape from me, or is you moving' on?" I sighed.

He thought for a moment, "Yeah, sure, I'll take a pape, but I wanna ask you a question as well."

"A question'll cost ya extra, Barnes." I winked, but he just shrugged and nodded.

"Why do you hide your pretty hair up in that giant hat?" He tilted his head sideways, a cute habit of his that I've noticed from the times I've spoken to him.

"The streets of New York ain't as pretty as they may look up in ya fancy apartment, Bucky. Some fellas down 'ere will do bad things to a goil if they sees her walkin' around wit nobody to guard her. This is my protection." I explained, and he slowly nodded, biting his lip as he took in the information.

He grabbed my hand, and I resisted the urge to flinch away, but managed to stay still but tense as he faced my palm upwards so he could place two quarters in my hand. My eyes widened.

"Bucky, a pape is only a penny-" I rushed to tell him, but he just put a finger to my lips, which I did not appreciate in the slightest. With my other hand, I gently but firmly pulled his finger away from my mouth.

He winked at me, "You deserve it, Doll. You too pretty to be sellin' newspapers."

Whoa.

****

After selling my last few papes, I was still as cheerful as I was this morning. I walked back into Brooklyn, singing once again. The Newsboys smiled at me and took off their hats as a sign of respect, even though I've told them before it was unnecessary. Up ahead, I could see my brother talking to two - no, three people.

He crossed his arms, coming off as intimidating as he stood before a long-time friend of mine, Jack Kelly, and a slightly taller brunet, who I didn't recognize at first, plus a little kid. Who brings a kid to Brooklyn?

"What's goin' on, Spotty Boy?" I asked, leaning my elbow on his shoulder, and shooting a wink at the brunet, who I now recognized as Davey, from the night before. His eyes widened and he glanced behind him, wondering if the action was meant for somebody else. Jack snorted at his antics.

"These 'hattan Newsies is playin' like they's goin' on strike." He huffed, obviously not convinced.

"Well, we are." Davey defended himself.

Spot looked to Jack, "What's this, some kinda walking mouth?"

"Yeah, it's a mouth wit' a brain, and if ya got half of one, you'll listen to what he has to say."

After Davey explained everything, I was totally on board. I knew that if we weren't gonna do anything, prices would be raised all around New York, and we'd all be eating less than we already do. However, my brother, ever the douchebag, thought they would run at the sight of trouble.

The three boys walked back to Manhattan dejectedly, and I gave Jack a quick hug to let him know I understand his situation and I'll do my best to help. But, my brother was a stubborn asshole and I could never change his mind. Unfortunately for him, I was the same.

**
*finds a good fanfic*
*good plot line, good grammar*
*falling in love with the book*
and then

Updated: August 14th, 2016

-milfs <3