𝚂𝙴𝙸𝚉𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙰𝚈 - 𝙽𝚎𝚠𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚜

𝚀𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚜

Word Count: 735

The newsies were gathering outside of Jacobi's Deli after selling the day's newspapers. It was around five o'clock, and the sky was beginning to darken. A slight chill made the youngest newsies shiver. Everyone was thinking about food. "Hey, can anyone here cook?" Race asked, his trademark cigar dangling out of his mouth. "Yeah, sorta." Buttons said. "But only toast," he added as an afterthought.

"Hey, I can cook Quesadillas!" Smalls piped up, her tangle of reddish-brown hair flying all over.  Race laughed. "Sure you can, Smalls."

"I can cook quesadillas." Smalls insisted, looking to Sniper for support. Sniper shrugged. "Sure, ask Mr Jacobi if he'll let you into his kitchen. Then you can prove you can cook quesadillas!"

Smalls grabbed Sniper's hand and pulled him through the door into Jacobi's deli. "Hello Miss Smalls and Mister Sniper." Mr Jacobi said kindly. "Come in for some water?"

"Nope, not today," Smalls said, looking as if she very much would like to forget the whole thing and just ask for water. But her quesadilla-cooking reputation was on the line!

"I want to cook a quesadilla, can I use your kitchen?"

Mr Jacobi was surprised, but he knew the kids very well. They came into his restaurant every day, and never stole anything, not even food. He trusted them to some extent. "Sure, Smalls. Just this once. And keep Race away from the cash register, just in case..."

"Sure thing, Mr Jacobi!" Smalls assured the old man, shooting Race a contemptuous look.

All the newsies filed into the tiny kitchen, some watching through the windows as Smalls took two tortillas and a handful of grated cheese from the large refrigerator. She set a frying pan on one of the many stove burners and smeared butter on the inside so the quesadilla wouldn't stick.  She put a  tortilla on the stove and dumped the handful of cheese on top, pressing a second tortilla to cover it like a sandwich. In a few minutes, the quesadilla was done.

She cut it into eight pieces and gave one each to Sniper, Race, Jack, Crutchie, Mr Jacobi, Buttons, Boots and herself. Race and Sniper had to admit that she made a pretty good quesadilla.

"I want one..." Boots whined, sitting on the counter. "Me tooooooo." Les yawned. "Hey, if Les gets one, I do too," Davey said, sounding like a two-year-old.

"If Davey and Les get one, I get one first." Jack insisted.

"All right, all right," Smalls smirked at Sniper and Race, who were realizing how powerful Quesadillas were. "Who wants a Quesadilla slice?"

All hands went up.

"I want onions in mine," Skittery decided, pulling a bundle of chives out of the refrigerator.

"I want BACON!" Jojo yelled.

"I want oranges!" Boots said.

Everyone stopped to stare at him. "You want oranges on your quesadilla?" Smalls asked with a raised eyebrow, then she shrugged. "Heck, why not?"

So Smalls set to work, making seventeen quesadillas, each with progressively weirder fillings. The evening favourite was Jojo's Bacon Quesadilla, and six of the quesadillas Smalls made were bacon. Jojo had eaten four of them.  Well, he ate the bacon in them...

At six-thirty, after an hour and a half of quesadillas, Smalls was walking back to the lodging house with Sniper and Race. "I told you I could make awesome  quesadillas."

"Yeah, yeah.  We were wrong to doubt your quesadilla-cooking skills." Race said, his sarcastic voice muffled by the half of a quesadilla still stuffed in his mouth. He claimed he was 'Saving for later, like a squirrel.'

"You're going to have to get a job at Jacobi's," Sniper said in an awed voice, still munching on the bacon quesadilla Jojo had made him eat. Jojo was crazy about bacon.

"I mean, did you see the look on Mr Jacobi's face! He loved your quesadillas. They might be added to the lunch menu. BUT since I can't afford anything at Jacobi's –not even seltzer water– you have to give me free quesadillas, okay?"

"Sure, sure." Smalls said. Sniper wrapped a warm arm around her shoulders while Race cheerfully third-wheeled.

"I guess I do make a pretty mean Quesadilla. Wanna see if I can get the Delanceys to eat some?" Smalls said, an evil smile spreading across her face. "I think a shop just around the corner sells really cheap rat poison..."