Life With the Newsies- One Shots- OPEN to OCs

Life at the Races

Post Strike (no clue how long after, you decide)

Racetrack Higgins sold papers at the Sheepshead Races every day. He had a favorite horse and a secret friend. Race never told any of his Newsie friends about his secret friend. He didn't want them to get any ideas. She was stunning to Racetrack. Her dark hair shimmered, and her Brooklyn accent thicker than Spot Conlon's. She had piercing blue eyes that were as bright as the New York sky. They clouded over when she was upset and those same eyes shimmered with excitement as she watched the races. Watching her watch the races was a wonderful thing. Her name was Flavia. She had never told Race her last name, but he thought everything about her was exciting. Everything she said was interesting and full of her personality. Flavia had been Race's secret friend for a long time. They had become best friends the first Race had started selling papers at Sheepshead. Flavia was talkative and claimed she was more Italian than Racetrack. Race didn't believe her, claiming that he was more Italian than her by a longshot. The two had become best friends over such a petty, but simple little argument. The one thing Flavia didn't know about Race was that he had never told the other Newsies about her.  He had never told her, because he was worried that she would get mad at him if he told her that he didn't tell the other Newsies. Race has never really had a romantic interest in girls, especially Flavia. They had been friends since the two of them were about five years old. Race had still been learning to sell, and was not doing a good job of it. Of course, he had come a long way since then and Flavia had noticed a difference. Today, Race walked over to where he always met her. Sure enough, his secret friend came walking over.

"Hey, Race." She says.

"Hey, Flavi," Race replies, calling her by the nickname he had dubbed her when they were just kids. He tugs on his newsboys cap taking in her attire. Flavi was poor, Race could tell that much from the way her clothes looked, but she had never told him about her private life. Race had never really asked, and Flavi had never really said.

"Who ya bettin on today?" Flavia asks. 

"Don't know yet. Meybe, Dots or Pokey."

"Not Pokey. He's too slow. How bout Slider?"

"Flavi, how am I supposed to know who tah bet on? I ain't even sold any of me papes, yet!" Flavi chuckles at her friend's irritation. "Gotta turn a profit, fore I can make a bet." Race grumbles and Flavia continues to chuckle.

"Well, I'm bettin on Dots. She's me favorite," Flavi declares, slamming a penny down on the thick wooden railing that lies before the two friends.  She spits in her hand and holds it out to him. "Bettah make a bet, Higgins," Flavia taunts him. Race rolls his eyes and says,

"You'se can kiss dat penny o' yours goodbye, but Pokey's gonna make Dots's hooves look like deys goin so slow." Race slams a penny down onto the railing, spits into his own hand, and the two friends shake on it. The starting gun shoots and the horses take off. Race and Flavi cheer for their own horses at first, but it really turns into them trash talking each other.

"Oh, look at dat, Dot's goin so fast. It makes Pokey look lazy. Cuz he is, just like you'se," Flavi taunts.

"Once Pokey gets goin, my bet is gonna make your bet look bad. Pokey's gonna bulldozer Dot clear back to last week!" Race fires back. Flavia nudges Race with her elbow and Race nudges her back even harder.

"Flavi!" Race groans, "I can't watch Pokey, if ya pushin me around." Flavi giggles and nudges him even harder.

"There is that better?" She asks, nudging him, so it is nearly impossible to see Pokey.

"Come on, Pokey!" Race shouts at the horse, earning a few wary stares from the wealthier spectators nearby. Flavi shouts at Dots and the two friends continue to trash talk each other and cheer on their horses. The race nears the end and the two teenagers lean on the railing.