Crutchie and I used to share a room, but then he moved to sleep on the roof with Jack. Anthony and Mush now sleep in his place. They had moved another bed in here so that there was more space. Anthony had earned a nickname, Racetrack, since he always bets all his money away at the horse races. I sleep on the top bunk, with Race in the bottom bunk. Mush sleeps on the extra bed, which doesn't have a top bunk. There are built-in drawers and shelves in the walls, but we don't fill them all up. I have at most three skirts. I think I have two flannels, and one black vest. I wear my boots until after the heel has fallen off, because shoes are expensive. 

At this moment, I was laying on my bed and staring at the musty, popcorn ceiling. It was early in the morning, so the Morning Bell hadn't rung yet. Both boys were still snoring in their beds. I have a tendency to stay up late and wake up early. Usually, I get out of bed and get dressed. So, that's what I did. I climbed down the ladder and silently opened my drawer. I then pulled out a gray skirt and a dark green flannel. Once I was changed, I put on my black vest and dark brown boots. My suspenders were underneath my vest, which I left unbuttoned. A few buttons on the top of my flannel were unbuttoned for comfort. I then took a hair tie and tied my hair into a low ponytail and put on my gray hat.

(A/n: For those who aren't sold that hair ties were invented in this time, here's my citation: "Hair ties were revolutionized by the invention of elastic in the 1800s. Thomas Hancock, considered the father of the rubber industry, obtained the first patent in 1820 for the use of elastic in fasteners for gloves, shoes and stockings." www.leaf.tv)

As soon as I was finished, the Bell chimed. My roommates never wake up at the Bell, so I shook the both of them awake. After they were both conscious, I left the room so they could change. A few boys were walking around, rubbing their eyes. Jack was going down the stairs. My brother was at the top, leaning on the rail. He then tossed the crutch to Jack and tediously limped down the stairs. As soon as he got down, he was given the crutch and made his way to me.

"Are you always up this early?" He asked, looking me over. It had been years since Crutchie started talking again, but he still had the slightest stutter. His voice had matured, but it still kept the goofiness that it contained since he got his voice back. 

"Can't sleep." I shrugged as we walked  towards the door of the Lodging House.

Eventually, all the boys were awake, dressed, and at the gate. 

"Hey, look!" Finch exclaimed, pointing. "They're puttin' up the headline!"

"I hope it's real bloody, with a nice, clear picture!" Specs added. The boys nodded and shouted in agreement. I was standing in between Crutchie and Race, just in front of Henry. Henry's a lot taller than me, so it wasn't a problem that I was in front of him.

Trolley Strike Enters 3rd Week

Groans of disappointment erupted through the Newsies.

"The Trolley Strike?" I demanded. "Not again!"

"Man, three weeks of the same story." Racetrack complained.

"They're killin' us with that snoozer!" Finch sighed. Then, the Delancey's approached the gate to unlock it.

"Hey, make way!" Oscar Delancey ordered, his brother just behind him.

"Yeah, step aside!" Morris Delancey instructed. A wide grin spread across Race's face.

"Oh, dear me." He joked, taking the cigar out of his mouth. "What is that unpleasant aroma? I fear the sewers may have backed up during the night."

"Or could it be...?" My brother continued, trailing off. Several of the boys shouted: "The Delancey brothers!"

When the gates were swung open, Finch sidled up to Oscar.

"Hey, Oscar, word on the street says you and your brother are takin' money to beat up strikin' trolley workers." 

"So?" Oscar muttered, turning to him. "It's honest work."

"You're crackin' the heads of defenseless workers." Albert pointed out. Race caught wind of the conversation. On several occasions, I joined in on a few of the arguments and it did not end well. I left with bruises, but the Delancey's made out worse. I learned to stay out of these squabbles.

"I take care of the guy who takes care of me." Oscar shrugged and Race went up to him, close to his face.

"Hey, ain't your father one of the strikers?" He demanded.

"Guess he didn't take care of me." The Delancey growled, shoving Race away from him. Race fixed his hat and charged forward. Before he could do anything rash, Albert ushered him back.

"You want a piece of that too?" Morris shouted, grabbing hold of my brother's crutch and yanking it, causing the boy to topple over. "You lousy crip!"

I yelped and rushed to Crutchie's side, pulling him up. Once I did, Albert slung my brother's arm over his shoulder. Jack ripped the crutch from Morris's grasp and leaned on it.

"Hey, that is not nice, Morris." He told him threateningly. Oscar went to his brother's side defensively. 

"Five to one, Jack skunks him!" Race declared, watching intently. Crutchie was leaning on Albert's shoulder. As Racetrack said this, he was shoved out of the way by Oscar. Just before he reacted, Romeo pulled him back and patted his chest.

"One unfortunate day, you may find out that you've got a bum game of your own." Jack continued. "How would you like us picking on you, huh? Maybe we should find out."

Just then, he whacked the brothers' legs and ran off.

"Wait till I get my hands on you!" Oscar grunted through gritted teeth, he and his brother chasing after the seventeen year-old.

"You gotta catch me first!" Jack called back. Albert then picked up my brother like a baby and carried him over to the wagons and sat him down. I sat beside him.

"Are you okay?" I asked. You almost never see him without his crutch.

"Yeah." He nodded, glaring at the Delancey's, who were still on Jack's tail.

"You ain't a lousy crip." I assured him.

"Nah, just a crip." Crutchie laughed.

"Crutchie." I started.

"I mean, he's right." Crutchie continued, watching as Jack ran from the brothers in ridiculously  twisty paths. "It's not like I can really protect anyone, or myself. And I am a cripple."

"C'mon." I pleaded. I hate it when he gets this down on himself, even if he's right.

"I'm not wrong." My brother shrugged. Jack appeared at the front of the line at the counter. I helped Crutchie limp to the second place, and I was third. Jack gave my brother back his crutch, and stepped up to Mr. Weisel.

"Mornin', Weasel." He grinned. "Ya missed me?"

"The name is Weisel." Mr. Weisel grumbled.

"Ain't that what I said?" Jack laughed, glancing down the line, and slapping down a coin." I grinned. "I'll take the usual."

"Hundred papes for the wise guy." Mr. Weisel ordered the Delanceys.

"Mornin', Mr. Weisel." Crutchie said politely, gently placing down a coin.

"Heh. Fifty papes for Crutchie." Weisel nodded in approval.

"Hey, Mr. Weasel." I grinned, giving him the money. "Fifty, please." 

The man didn't even acknowledge my presence, but the brothers gave me my papers anyway.

"Good morning, Clara." Oscar leaned on the stacks of papers, a flirty glint in his dark eyes. I took a deep breath and turned to him. Crutchie kept an eye on the situation.

"Morning, Oscar." I sighed. "Whaddya want?"

"Just trying to be friendly." He shrugged, smirking. I shuddered in disgust. I hate that guy. I then walked to my brother who looked conflicted between laughing at me, or yelling at Oscar.