Kid Blink stumbled back to the Lodging House, cursing under his breath when he tripped. He looked at the girl he'd managed to fall over, and then tried to wake her up. "Hey, get up, kid, y' can't sleep in da streets."

Big green eyes opened wide to him, and the girl scooted away hastily, frightened.

"I ain't gonna hoit ya. Me name's Kid Blink, goil, ya beddah come wid me. Can't have ya sleepin' out heah while me buddies an' I get beds. Dat ain't right," he found himself babbling.

"Thank you," she said quietly, and followed him home without another sound.

"Heya Spot, whatcha doin' in Manny-hanny at dis hour?" Blink teased Spot Conlon, leader of Brooklyn. Younger than him by two years.

"Aw, get outta heah, Blink. Who's da goil?"

"I'se jist Guddahs," the girl commented.

"Guttahs, huh? Well, I'se Spot Conlon, but don't get too used ta me, I din't mean ta stay heah. Its stawmin' somethin' awful outsides, an' we jist finished a pokah game wid da Manhattan boys. C'mon upstairs, kid, we'll intraduce ya. Oh an' Blink, wheah were ya?" He looked at Gutters again, his eyes lingering in wonder.

"Get ya mind outta da guttah!" Blink yelled at him.

"I t'ink ya'd love bein' in da Guttah," Spot joshed him, and ducked the playful punch. But Gutters winced and shyed away when she saw the roughousing. Blink offered a compassionate hand-on-shoulder, and she managed that without breaking down and bolting outside.

"Hey, Blink, wheah ya been? Nevahmoind, I see wheah ya been," Jack said, sliding down the banister. The red-headed Gutters whimpered when he extended a hand to spit-shake. It wasn't the spit that bothered her...but the fact that it was a male. Gutters at present hated the male population...Blink was the only exception. He was hot, he rescued her, and as-of-yet, he was very kind. But she wasn't about to open her heart to them, especially these rough strangers, leaders she had not met. She didn't want to find herself falling in love and getting crushed again.

"Jack, I don't t'ink she want ta be touched too much," Spot stated the obvious. Well, obvious to Blink and Gutters.

"So what's ya real name...or jus' ya las' name? Because ya gotta sign in wid Kloppy."

"Strange," she said seriously. Like it used to be funny to her, but once everyone and their auntie had laughed, she got no joy. And she looked...depressed. As though something terrible had happened that changed everything in her life.

Jack took a second glance at her. "Serious?"

"Dead."

"How...strange."

Gutters rolled her eyes.

My rude awakening was Kloppman shouting at the other newsies. Apparently Blink woke up really fast, because next thing I knew, he was tickling my feet. "Get up Guts!" he yelped in my ear.

"Whaddaya mean?! I din't do nuttin' t' you'se..." I said, trailing off and going back to sleep. I had yet to open my eyes. But I knew that Blink was rolling his eyes and he pinched my arm.

"Whaddaya mean ya din't do it, get up awready! We gotta carry da bannah, ya wanna eat doncha?"

"I'm up, I'm up, leave me alone!" I bawled. Red-headed temper. Eh, so sue me.

"Finally," he muttered, purposely audibly. I sat up, looked him in the eye, and stared...then he got this glint like he thought I was looking him up, which I sort of was, and I slapped his cheek, lightly enough for it not to be too painful, hard enough to make him get the point. Don't get too cocky.

It had been a week, and while I wasn't the greatest newsie, there were many that were worse. Sometimes I bought some from the unfortunates and re-sold them, same price. I didn't get any money for it, but I didn't lose any unless I didn't manage to sell them, and the chosen one got an extra nickel, an extra bag of chips. For the most part, it didn't hurt me any.

Blink was my best friend. He alone knew why I didn't like the other boys at first. But he didn't know half the reason I had run away, or what had driven me to my dislike. I wanted to tell SOMEONE, but I was so afraid they'd turn me in. Back to him, my...bluh, Uncle. Can't believe he actually had any relatives. But there was me and his wife's--I know, wife--brother's boys. Oh, I forgot to tell you his name! Jeez, can I GET any dumber? My uncle's name is Seymour Weisel. He works at Pulitzer's distribution offices--ew. Anywho, he "took me in" when my mother and father died of yellow fever. Yeah, right. Made me apply for a sweatshop job the moment I arrived on his doorstep, stingy and unfeeling bastard.

His other nephews, no relation to me whatsoever, also lived with him. BLUH! Oscar and Morris are possible the sorriest excuses for men I've ever SEEN. So rude and disgusting and yick! They had no taste. They were why I left...but it wasn't just their taste that bothered me.

Blink, my selling partner, snapped me from my daze when he touched my arm lightly. He had gotten enough bruises by now to figure out how hard he could grab me. I turned and he motioned to Tibby's--near our selling spot. I nodded, and wordlessly, we started walking towards lunch. We carried out many conversations without speaking, since most of the time in New York City, you couldn't even hear yourself think over the din.

"So, howjah do, Guts?" he asked when we were at our usual booth. Guts had recently become something of a pet-name for me. Hey, it was said with affection, it was from Blink, and it didn't sound like a drain. It made me feel...accepted. Loved. Of course, I had felt the same about HIM only a few months before, but...I'm getting behind myself. Da past is da past, ain't nuttin' gonna change dat, I thought to myself. Now quit talkin' t' yaself an' eat! I like my sensible side. It has an appetite.

"Ehhh..." I groaned through a mouthful of potatoes. I like potatoes. Ok, I'm obssessed with potatoes. They remind me of home...of Ireland.

"Dat bad, huh?"

"Yeah. Dat bad."

"Well, I'll take ya t' Medda's t' make up fawh it. C'mon, her next show oughta staht soon."

Another of his few faults was that Blink seemed infatuated with Medda. She was nice enough, but I wanted Blink to myself. So what, I'm selfish. I don't care. Anyway. We walked to Medda's. I talked to the crazy red-head--wait, I'm a crazy red-head. Back to where I was. Medda was going on and on and ON about how I was the cutest little girl she'd ever seen, and "Oh, I just looooove your hair" and yaddayaddaYADDA!

Well, her show was--as I expected--toally disreputable. Basically she was strutting around, singing provacative/suggestive songs, and flashing people. It scared me, because she was old enough to be Blink's grandmother and he was STILL infatuated with her. Okay, maybe not his grandmother. But she was pretty OLD. Like, fifty-something, and he likes her. It was frightening. I wanted to slap some sense into him, but he was too cute to hit.

"Will ya take ya eyes off dat ol' whore fah ten seconds?" I muttered bitterly. Blink's eye turned towards me and he sighed.

"C'mon, I'll leave if ya don't wanna watch it."

"T'anks," I said in relief. He grinned.

"No prob'em." He put an arm around my shoulder and I was soon wearing the half-smile that's more a smirk than anything else. Which turned into a stupidly happy smile when Blink's hand moved a li'l...further...down. He barely noticed what he was doing, I think, but I certainly wasn't complaining. When we got back to the lodging house, I didn't really have anything better to do than sit on a random bunk--which happened to be (totally by accident, of course) Blink's.

Blink grinned another half-smirk, half-grin like the one I had only moments before, then joined me on his bed. I was curled up on his pillow, he was sprawled at the foot of his bunk. So sprawled that it gave me a splendid view of some of Blink's...better features...like...his muscles! Yeah, I saw some great muscle through that white undershirt--he had removed his vest and outer shirt. I wonder what Blink was thinking of me at the time.

Heh. She's in my bed. Not only that, she isn't wearing too terribly much. Y'know, that tanktop shows quite a bit of curves. And as for that skirt...wow. It was, for the most part, just black, gauzy fabric over a black under-skirt. Except since the underskirt was so short, it was basically just a few layers of gauze over some creative "underwear." Guts has great legs. But I can't spend too much time on her legs, her face is so beautiful...eyes that sparkle like glimmering emeralds, ruby-red lips, lushious eyelashes, and rosy cheeks. Oh, god, she's beautiful. I wish she was mine.

Blink sort of stood up on his knees and crawled over to me, then fell back next to me on his pillow. "Goil, you'se takin' up awl da pillah," he pointed out.

"I was heah foist."

"It's my bed," he reminded me. I thought about this, then thought about somewhere else to rest my head. So I sat up, and once he moved, put my head on his chest.

"You'se a bettah pillah den dat pillah," I told him. He rolled his eyes at me, then pulled me up so I was resting face-to-face with him, my head on his arms.

He gave me the same little smirk, then said in an infuriatingly superior voice, "I know." Just for that, I rolled off him. He looked so crushed about it, too. Hah, yeah right.

"C'mon, let's go on da roof," I said finally. I knew it was cold, and I was not wearing much of anything except that see-through skirt and little tanktop. But that would give me an excuse to curl up with Blink. Blink shrugged, he didn't seem to mind what he undoubtedly knew would be cold. So we went up the stairs to the roof.

A cold blast of air hit me, and I shivered immediately. Wordlessly, Blink dropped his arm around his shoulder. Then I got an idea of how to tell him who I liked and figure out what he felt about me at the same time.

"Blink..."

"Blink..." she began, fiery red hair shining in the dimness of the moonless night, a radiant fire in the deepest pitch.

"Yeah?" I murmured softly.

"I gotta ask ya somethin'."

"Shoot."

"Deah's dis guy," she started, and my heart sank. My face was probably OBVIOUSLY falling. "An' I likes 'im an awful lot, but I can't figgah out how ta tell 'im."

"What's 'e look like?" I asked in a monotone.

"Well...average height. Blond hair. Beautiful, dreamy blue eyes," she said, obviously dreaming herself. Dutchy, with my luck, I thought dismally. Damn, I like her, too. I'se gonna kill Dutchy.

"Oh yeah?" I asked in the same stony, dispirited voice.

"But deah's dis one t'ing I don't undahstand 'bout 'im."

"Mebbe I can tell ya," I continued without enthusiasm.

"He has dis brown leathah...eyepatch. An' I wanna know if 'is uddah eye is jist hidin' fah sellin' poipoises an' it's still jus' as dreamy, or if it's somethin' scary."

I blinked at her, then slowly pulled off my eyepatch. Another bright blue eye saw her beautiful form, blurrily at first, then clearly even in the dark night.

"Dat answah ya question?" I asked. "I t'ink dis kid wid da eyepatch definitely likes ya back. S' mattah a' fact, deah's somethin' 'e's been wantin' ta do evah since 'e met ya." I leaned down and kissed her passionately. It was one of those kisses that happens once a lifetime, no, once a millenia. One of those kisses where you just KNOW, deep in your bones, at the bottom of your heart, that the person you're sharing that kiss with is your one true love, and that you will never be the same without them. It was one of those.

"T'anks," she said.

"Fah what?"

"Fah givin' me pahmission ta do dis," she responded, and then she kissed me in a shameful, disgraceful way--and I loved it. If we were in public, though, we could be sued for that kind of affection.

"FINALLY! Jesus, Blink, you'se move slowah den RACE," came a loud voice from the fire escape.

"SHUDDUP!" Gutters and I shouted. Race, also on the fire escape, hit the talker with his hat. The other boy yelped and I knew it was Snitch.

No one seemed to notice we never came back down into the bunkroom--the boys FINALLY left the fire escape.

The morning was ominous. Dark, heavy clouds loomed overhead. I felt a drop of water on my nose--that was what had awakened me in the first place. Then I felt another drop, on my neck. With a start, I realized I'd actually done it with Blink. Well, not realized. Remembered. I started putting my clothes back on before he woke up with a drop of water in his ear. I laughed when he got this bewildered look, like he was asking the wind in a daze, "Wha? Where am I?"

"Hi," he said with a smile.

more to come