Little Cigars Little Muffins: Racetrack Higgins

Chapter One

My first week comes to a close at Wendy's Jewish Bakery and I could be happier. They could pay me enough so I can afford rent, or my dad could be alive. At the rate I am earning money I am going to be 10 dollars short of rent next month. Dad's money ran out quickly, only getting me the apartment and exactly a months rent.
I have three weeks until rent is due and another month before I can't afford it. No other options have presented itself this week, so pickpocketing it is. The only question is, the casino or the races.
My dad went to the Sheepshead race every weekend. I could get in without any questions, the only problem I just don't know where it is. After about an hour or two of asking for directions I eventually found a promising lead. A boy about my age with a cigar hanging out of his mouth, seems like the kind of person to regular the races.
"Excuse me, to happen to know where Sheepshead is?" I say. He spins around to look me up and down, he seems taken aback. I don't look like the kind of person to regular there, that is going to cause me to stand out, meaning I have to be extra careful while pickpocketing.
"What's a pretty girl like you need to do down there" he says. Now it is my turn to be taken aback, he is pretty forward. Probably flirts with anything that walks.
"Doesn't matter, can you help me or not" I say, hoping to knock down his cockiness.
"I'm going there myself, you're welcome to accompany me" he says. That worked out pretty well, "under one condition", oh no what now, "you are my lucky charm". He has a crafted grin on his dirty face. Call it laziness but I don't want to ask around anymore. However, will I be able to pickpocket if I am close enough too him. "You've gone mute?"
"Just thinking"
"That's where the smell of smoke is coming from"
"You sure it isn't your cigar?"
"Will you be my luck or not?"
"Fine"
His eyes seem to beam like he didn't expect it to work. To be honest I don't know why I agreed, but when I look into his eyes I just want to throw caution to the wind. So I did.
"So what brings you to Sheepshead?" The boy asks, attempting to make small talk.
Lie Y/N, "rebellious streak", could I be any less convincing. Ask him a question before he says anything, "so what's your name?".
"Anthony, but my friends call me Racetrack, Race, or asshole" he says, slightly chuckling at his own jokes. "What might a fine girl like you be called?"
"Y/N"
"No nicknames?"
"Nothing less nothing more, unlike you Anthony"
"Call me Race"
"We're not friends"
"Nobody calls me Anthony"
"I'm not a nobody, Anthony."
"Well Lucky, I guess I am just going to have to force you to be my friend" Anthony says. What does that even mean? Also I am not about to be called Lucky, by a stranger.
"Don't call me Lucky"
"Don't call me Anthony"
"How is that fair?"
"First rule of gambling: nothing is fair, Lucky" he says looking right at me. His Crystal blue eyes stand out above his dirty face.
"I'll call you Race, if you walk me home" I say, trying to reason. I don't want to walk the streets of Manhattan alone at night, they scare me.
"You'se got yourself a deal" he spits in his hand gesturing for me to shake it.
"That's disgusting"