...
amara knew the familiar ring of the morning bell better than anyone could. she'd listened to that same sound since she was four, and everytime she heard it, it seemed to make her heart skip a beat.
today was no different.
her ears perked up as she heard the bell and she raced in the direction of the sound. the morning gates of "The World" were wide open, and she seemed to skip through, slipping into a line, seemingly un-noticed.
she looked amongst the group of newsies - boys, from what she could see. she wasn't surprised, she didn't know many girl newsies (or girlsies as many people called them). the boys were all poking fun at each other, mainly at one boy at the front with brown hair and...brown eyes? hard to see in the light.
getting bored, amara tapped her finger on her thigh, biting her lip as she thought. the line was moving slow - lots of newsies compared to brooklyn. her eyes soon rested on the boy directly in front of her, or more so the bag he had slung around his shoulders. there was a packet of cigars poking out, the box open.
should i? she wondered to herself. it'd leave an impression.
her fingers slipped into the box, pulling out a cigar quickly and match from her own pocket, looking up to see if the figure had noticed. luckily, he didn't, and amara let out a sigh of relief, lighting the cigar as she got to the front of the line.
"and who's this new girl?" an old guy who looked like he ate children for fun asked, looking at amara up and down.
amara could feel the eyes of the other newsies flicker in her direction. "hundred papes," she said simply, though her accent made it sound more like "hunnid".
a low laugh pierced the air. amara's eyes narrowed as she saw a figure emerge from the shadows behind the old guy, revealing a boy maybe a year or two older than her. he stood tall, but he was barely five ten, and he was obviously someone who thought everyone should fear him. "you, sell a hundred papers?" he laughed lowly and amara could feel her blood boil. "a girl like you could barely sell ten."
amara crossed her arms. "i's came here to buy papes. i's didn't come here to beat an asshole up," amara shot back, cracking her knuckles. "though, that could change."
the old guy chuckled and it made amara want to be sick. "are you really sure that you want a hundred papers? you really think you can sell that many?"
amara looked around her. everyone was staring at her now, and it made her even more confident in herself.
"tell yous what," she leaned into the younger guy's face, taking his hands tenderly. "we'll have a bet. yous don't think i can sell the papes, and i does. a full tenner goes to whoever's right in the end. hell, i's will even up the price," she declared to whoever the hell was listening, reaching into her own pocket to pull out a note. "it'll be my tenner." she waved the bill around in the air.
amara grinned as she saw the boys around her stare in awe. "if yous win, yous get the tenner and the pride of having bet a goil," amara turned back to the pair of assholes. "if i's end up winnin', yous leave me the hell alone," she offered.
the younger boy raised an eyebrow, but nodded, about to snatch the note off of amara.
amara shook her head. "nuh-uh," she smirked, pulling it out of his grip. "i's don't trust yous isn't gonna spend it elsewhere. instead," amara spun on her heel facing the group of newsies. her eyes danced along the boys, landing on the one boy at the front of the line before. "what's ya name, kid?" she asked, pointing at him.
