"Y/N! Getcha ass up!" My brother called, shaking my shoulder less than gently.

"Piss off, Jackie." I groaned, rolling over. He pulled my blanket off of my stretched out body. Even at fifteen, my bed was too small for me. Jack tugged on my wrist in annoyance, threatening to pull me off of the bed onto the hard concrete floor below.

"C'mon, Y/N. We gotta get to work." Jack insisted, his heavy New York accent twanging work. I pushed him away and sat up, rubbing my face. I dropped my legs over the side, wincing as my feet hit the cold concrete floor. I wasn't used to Jack waking me up, and though it was nice to see my older brother, he was really starting to piss me off. Jack usually slept on the fire escape, but it was storming last night, so he came and slept in the bunk above mine.

"Alright Jack, alright. I'm up." I walked past him, trying to tame my hair with my hands as I walked to the bathroom. There, I was greeted by the sight of a room full of half naked guys, all shaving, showering, or brushing their teeth. I made my way into a secluded corner and changed into a plaid button up held up by suspenders. As I slipped on my cap, I plucked a cigar out of the hands of a messy blondish brown haired boy. Racetrack Higgins, sixteen. Only a year older than me. One of my best friends, and my selling partner.

"Hey! That's my cigar!"

"You'll steal anudda." I replied, my accent poking through.

"Hey, look! It's bath time at the zoo." A black boy called Specs teased.

Henry grinned at us as he shaved. "I thought that I'd surprise my mudda."

"If you can find ha'!" Albert smirked.

"Who asked you?!" The reply came from all of us, and I gave him a shove as I took a drag of Race's cigar.

"Papes ain't movin' like they used to. I need a new sellin' spot. Got any ideas?" Albert asked, and Race moved past him.

"From Bottle Alley to the harbor," He began, and I agreed.

"There's easy pickin's guaranteed. Try any banker, bum, or barber."

"They almost all knows how ta read!" Finch, another newsie, sang.

Jack joined us all as we exited the bathroom and made our way to the square. "It's a crooked game we're playin', one we'll never lose."

"Long as sucka's don't mind payin' just to get bad news!" I finished as my brother slung an arm around my shoulder.

"Ain't it a fine life, carryin' the banner through it all!" Everyone chimed in. "A mighty fine life, carryin' the banner tough and tall! When that bell rings, we goes where we wishes, we's as free as fishes, sure beats washin' dishes; what a fine life! Carryin' the banner home free all!"

"Heya Crutch! What's the leg say? Gonna rain?" I asked, ruffling my friends hair. Crutchie was really the only newsie my age, fifteen. The others were close, sixteen and seventeen, like Jack, but me and Crutchie, we were the closest in age. He adjusted his crutch and leaned down to his lame leg.

"No rain. Partly cloudy. Clear by evening." He responding with a grin. Finch slung an arm around the boy.

"They should bottle this guy!"

"And the limp sells fifty papes a week." Race added with a smirk. We continued about our routine, getting ready to carry the banner once again.

The Boy Who Loved CigarsWhere stories live. Discover now