New Kid, New Century • A Newsies Fanfic

chapter three.

chapter three.

Gracie's feet alternated between putting weight on the balls of her feet and her heels. Her hands were in her pockets as she awaited the opening of The World. The other newsies crowded her, barely even noticing her. She prayed that was a good sign, and that she'd be unnoticed throughout the morning.

"They're puttin' up the headline!" One exclaimed, and everyone immediately quieted down.

Gracie bit down on her lip as she watched a man walk over to a blackboard with a chalk in his hand. She had obviously heard the expression that headlines sell papers, therefore, the headline had to be good.

Mining Companies Are Losing Money

She heard all of the newsies around her let out groans.

"No one cares!" She heard a newsie at the front shout. Everyone grunted in agreement, expect for her, who remained quiet.

"Why did that make headlines?" Another one whined.

Gracie internally groaned, too scared to join in and complain with the newsies.

Maybe she could make up a headline?

A few minutes later, the gates were opened, and the rush to get in line for papers was madness. Gracie managed to dash ahead of most of the boys, earning herself the fourth spot in line. The girl had spent a lot of time running, seeing as police always wanted to drag her and Liv to the orphanage. She let out a half smile before fumbling around for her money inside of her pockets.

10 cents, 20 cents, 30 cents, 40 cents, 50 cents, 60 cents. She gripped onto her dimes before pulling her money out of her pocket. Before she knew it, she was up to buy papers.

"Would ya look at that! A new kid!" The man that sold the papers, Mr. Wiesel, laughed.

"Wow, I'm new? I didn't know that. You should work as a detective," she mumbled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll take 100 papes," she declared, placing the money down.

"We got a feisty one over here," he gestured to her and handed her the newspapers, snickering slightly.

Gracie proceeded to stick up her favorite finger and picked up the newspapers, counting them all. It took her a few minutes, but she wanted to know that she had received what she paid for. 98, 99, 100. She breathed out a sigh and turned to start selling her papers, but was blocked. She looked up to see the face of Jack Kelly, who was the leader of the Manhattan newsies. He had made a ton of headlines a couple of years back by escaping a child jail called "the Refuge" on the back of Governor Roosevelt's carriage. This man was a big deal.

"Hey, you got a name?" The leader asked.

"Grayson. Grayson Matthews," she said, using the name she had decided on the night before.

"Jack Kelly."

"Really? Based off of the fancy clothes I mistook you for Governor Roosevelt!" She snapped. She heard some of the other newsies snort.

"You may have found someone with more attitude than you, huh, Jacky boy?" A newsie that she had heard Mr. Wiesel call "Race" said, strutting over to the two of them.

"Don't call me that," Jack muttered, turning over to "Grayson". "Sorry for the confusion," he laughed a little. "It's nice to meet ya." He then proceeded to spit on his hand and hold it out. Grace was taken aback by how gross it was, but quickly got over it. You sleep in a trash filled alleyway every night. This isn't that disgusting.

Grace did the same to her hand and shook hands with Jack. After the last news boy had bought their last paper, it was time for the bulls to be unleashed from their pen.