Queens of New York

Chapter 1

"Girls! Get up!"

Ringer was jolted from her much-needed sleep at the sound of Lizzy's loud bellow, a gruff and low sound that she had grown used to over the years. The landlady had seemed intimidating at first, with her bulky frame and finely creased face, but after only a week of living here, Ringer had found that she was quite the opposite. She was one of kindest people she knew. She was so big because of all the muscle gained from the hard work she does—cleaning and washing and making sure things are running smoothly—and the wrinkles on her face are actually from smiling and laughing too much.

But damn, you could be the sweetest person on earth, and Ringer would still hate you when you woke her up.

Ringer breathed deeply and shoved her face into her pillow, savoring her last few minutes in bed. It sure wasn't the most luxurious bed in New York, but it beat sleeping on the streets, and after spending hours on your feet each day, you begin to care less and less about how fluffy your pillow is—just having one is good enough. After a moment, she forced herself up into a sitting position, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the morning light that was coming in through the windows. The bunk bed creaked and swayed below her as she slid off of it, landing on the old wooden floor with a thud and a stumble. She might be flighty and nimble on the streets, but she was a klutz in the sheets. Or, rather, a klutz getting out of the sheets.

Ringer grabbed her thermal nightshirt by the back of the neck and pulled it over her head in one swift motion. No one here had actual pajamas, just clothes that were warm and comfortable enough to wear to bed. As for pants, Ringer usually just slept in her underwear. Who needed pants? Not her.

Ringer trudged over to one of the few dressers in the room; none of the girls owned many clothes so no one minded sharing. She pulled open her drawer and grasped around for her usual outfit, a cream white dress shirt with brown slacks and suspenders. And of course, the roll of ace bandages.

Once she was half dressed, Ringer left the bedroom and crossed into the connected washroom. The setup was a lot like the other lodging house in Manhattan, the one for the boys. She had been there a few times and was pretty sure one of the buildings was modeled after the other. She managed to snag an empty sink and quickly splashed some water on to her face and attacked her thick, unruly hair with a comb. Good enough. She  jumped up to sit on the edge of the counter and began wrapping her breasts, when suddenly, she was hit square in the face with a bra.

"Jesus Christ, again?" Ringer muttered as it slid into her lap. She took one glance at it and huffed, a smirk pulling at the edge of her mouth. She looked up and spotted Genie on the other side of the room, getting dressed.

"Have someone over last night?" she called over teasingly, flinging the garment back in Genie's direction. The older girl caught it in one hand without even looking up from what she was doing.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"On second thought, forget I asked."

Ringer gave a little huff of a laugh at their banter as she finished binding, then hopped off the counter and watched herself in the mirror as she put her shirt and suspenders on. From the mirror, she saw Sunny pass behind her, looking fancier than usual.

"You workin' at the diner today?" she asked, cocking a brow. She knew that Sunny didn't sell every day, because she had another job at the restaurant down the street. At times, Ringer envied the girl for making extra money, but then she remembered that she would rather do anything else than clean up someone else's messes. She supposed it worked for Sunny, though. That girl was always so happy.

Sunny nodded with a yawn and began fixing herself up in the mirror next to Ringer, just as the latter was finishing up. "See ya at the theater today?" she asked as she began to walk away.

"Of course. Where else would I be?" Sunny giggled.

Ringer flashed a grin at the girl, then let her hazel eyes dart over to the clock. Just about time. She swept her eyes across the room and saw that everyone was just about ready. They were all just dawdling around at this point. "Alright guys, time to go. We's got a job to do." she called. Ringer headed towards the stairs and grabbed her newspaper bag from the coat hanger that no one actually used for coats. She waited by the doorframe as the girls all filed out, the thundering of shoes down the stairs rattling her bones.

"Ah, there she is." she exclaimed as Genie approached. Genie just scoffed and rolled her eyes, but the glint in her eyes and light hearted smile told the younger girl that her friend was in a good mood.

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't be a prostitute." Ringer joked, stepping in next to her and walking with her.

"And I thought you said you were good at selling papers" Genie teased right back, though her cheeks had a slight pinkish hue to them. She was obviously blushing.

Before Ringer could fire back a witty response, she heard a snicker behind her. She whipped her head to look at the source and saw Freckles, who must have been listening and thought Genie's response was funny.

"Well what were you doin' yesterday? I sold more papes than you, so you ain't got room to laugh." Ringer said playfully.
Freckles absentmindedly twirled a piece of her hair, looking up at the ceiling. "Met this girl last night." she sighed dreamily.

Ringer just chuckled and ruffled Freckles' hair and followed Genie down the stairs, into the lobby (where Lizzy was sitting in a chair, knitting. Ringer was pretty sure she was using North's needles, but hey, she wasn't no snitch), and outside.

The day was quite nice today; warm, but with a breeze. Perfect selling weather. Ringer grinned and shoved her hands in her pockets as they began the walk to the distribution center.