I'm sorry my writing sucks.
Screw it, I'm publishing this. It's been too long since I've updated.

An uncomfortable silence drifted the deli like fog. The boy- who looked awfully like Jesse- glanced at Winnie, then back at Jack. Winnie held her breath, still stunned that she wasn't recognized by her best friend. Had Jesse forgotten her? Had all their time together meant nothing to him?

It felt like she was sinking. The thoughts that had constantly occupied the back of her mind for the last six years came back, fully fledged and as vile as ever. Clutching the loose fabric of her dress, Winnie looked down, ashamed. It really hadn't meant anything, the fair, the trees, the laughter and excitement. Maybe Jesse really had forgotten her. Maybe he was simply too old to remember every eleven-year-old girl he had run into throughout his long life.
Maybe-

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I ain't Jesse," The boy stated, a kind but confused smile on his freckled face. Winnie froze, heartbeat audible in her ears. Had he really just said that?

"But-" She stuttered, eyebrows furrowing as she finally got a good look at the boy. He looked uncannily like Jesse, but there were a few differences. Subtle, yet still present.

For one, he looked shorter and younger, but not by much. His eyes were different, too. Although they were still the same shade of hazel, the boy's seemed younger, slightly more innocent. They lacked the dark veil that shadowed Jesse's eyes, one only gained through time and trials. Her hands were now free of her dress, clutching and unclutching empty air as she tried to get a grasp on reality.

It wasn't until her head cleared that Winnie noticed that his face was bruised as well. Various scratches his face stood out now, and she considered them for the first time. There was a mean yellow-blue one just under his eye, and another marred the side of his face. His various scrapes and cuts looked only days old, fairly recent.

"How can I be sure you're not telling me a story?"

"That one's real easy," Jesse flashed a grin, almost buzzing with excitement, then, turning to Mae, he said, "Ma? Where's my rifle? Winnie can shoot me!"

The harsh reality hit her harder than a ton of bricks. This boy wasn't Jesse- he just couldn't be. There were too many underlying factors, ones that wouldn't be noticed at first glance.

"Oh, God," she said, covering her mouth with one hand in horror of her mistake. "I'm so sorry- I thought you were someone else."

"It ain't a big deal," The boy paused, flashing an all too familiar grin that reminded Winnie of Jesse. "I'm Crutchie."

So disoriented by the recent discovery of the Jesse-lookalike, Winnie didn't process his strange name. She nodded briefly before watching him shrug and walk- well, limp- over to Jack.

The older boy grinned at the sight of Crutchie, patting him on the back in the same manner that all boys did. A few words were exchanged before she saw Jack knock off Cruthie's hat with a boisterous laugh.

Winnie still stood by the door, blinking rapidly after the strange encounter. So, it was only logical that she jumped a foot in the air when Katherine was suddenly at her side.

"Sorry," Katherine quickly said, most likely out of habit. "Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" Although she wasn't known for being nosy, Katherine was a natural journalist. She had a knack for finding the hidden details, and was a master at reading body language.

"I- later. When we're back at your house." Winnie replied hastily. Waving her hand dismissively, she began to walk back to where she had been sitting with Race, Albert, and the other boy who she couldn't remember the name of. By now the rest of the newsboys were chatting again, the interruption long forgotten.

"So," Race leaned forwards on his elbows, giving the girl a scrutinizing look as soon as she sat down. Winnie couldn't help but notice that his cap was slightly askew. "You know Crutchie by any chance? 'Cause his name sure as hell ain't Jesse, I can tell ya that."

"It's. . . nothing." Winnie didn't look up from where she was mindlessly tracing the grain of wood with her fingers. She wanted so much to tell them about the Tucks: their kindness, immortality, and adventures they had with her- but knew she couldn't no matter what. "I met this kid, Jesse, at the circus. Back in New Hampshire," The words tumbled out of her mouth, surprising even her. Reminding herself to keep the story away from the spring, she continued speaking, fully intending not to say the whole truth. "He looks a lot like Crutchie, that's why I mistook them."

As she said the last words, Race spoke up, snapping his fingers. "New Hampshire? I've been there."

"No you haven't!" Albert criticized. His arms were crossed.

"Have too! Back when I was a kid!"

"Uh huh, sure. How?" The boy with brown hair added, looking vaugly interested.

"I," Race began dramatically, "was a carnie." Something in his blue eyes sparked, and even Winnie was inclined to believe him. Unfortunately, that made only one of them.

"Well that explains your annoyin'ness," The brown haired boy said as the same time Al rolled his eyes and snorted.

"Yah, I'mma have to call BS on that. There ain't no way you were in a circus. I mean- c'mon, you got lost just sellin' your papes. You couldn't'a traveled without bein' left behind."

"Okay, but how am I just learnin' 'bout this just now?"

Race shrugged and stuck his cigar back onto his mouth absentmindedly, a dangerous smirk dancing on his lips. "It never came up till now. 'Sides, I was nine or ten then, and I don't remember much of it."

While the three boys were discussing Race's questionable past, the gears in Winnie's head were turning faster than ever, trying in some way to connect him with the Tucks. It was a stretch, but something told her it was possible.

"Have you seen a young girl 'round here? Red hair, eleven years old?" Winnie caught Jesse's eye and frowned from where they were hiding behind a cart. Constable Joe was speaking to a carnie nearby, no doubt looking for her.

"They're looking for me, Jesse," She whispered, fidgeting with the fabric of her vest. She didn't want to go back home, back to the boring days of nothing, back to wishing for a better life.

"And? C'mon, hiding is half the fun in these types of situations." He paused before sending a careful glance to where the constable and carnie were arguing. "Lets go and see if we can get away without them noticin'. On the count of three. One, two. . . Three!"

Winnie's heart skipped a beat. Whether it was from excitement of fear of getting caught, she didn't know. The duo sprang up simultaneously, dodging various people as they ran. Without realizing it, she accidentally ran straight into another kid with a slight 'oof'.

"Sorry," She said hurriedly, barely bothering to take a good look at him.

"Ain't a big deal." There was a quick flash of blonde hair and colorful clothes, then he was gone, disappearing into the large crowd.

"Hey, Winnie," Jesse called from a few feet away. "They're coming this way!"

She grinned and went back to Jesse's side, the collision with the little boy already forgotten.

It was the charming sound of Jack's voice that brought Winnie back to the real world and it's problems. Slightly startled, she jumped and looked to where he was speaking.

"Boys! Sellin's gonna starts soon, so ya'll should hurry up if you're gonna sell the evening edition!"

Albert leaned forwards so his chin rested in his hands. Glancing at Winnie, he loudly whispered, "Jackie here thinks that he's a cowboy when he says 'ya'll'. Just sounds like an idiot to me."

Race hooted loudly, smacking his friend on the back.

"That's our call. See ya Winnie," Albert said, adjusting his cap out of habit. A few of the other newsies muttered goodbyes of some sort, proceeding to grab their bags and head out the door.

As soon as the door shut behind the last of them (Two boys named Les and Sniper who were trying to convince Katherine to buy them ice cream), Katherine slid into the empty seat next Winnie.

She sighed and played with her curls for a second before looking up at her cousin. "They sure are something, eh?"

"Yeah," Winnie murmured. The conversation with Race still imprinted in her thoughts. It seemed impossible and yet it was true. Although she barely knew him, she still believed that he was the very boys he had bumped into near Treegap.

"Hello?" Katherine waved a hand in front of her face. "Still in there?"

"What? Yeah." Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Winnie asked, "Sorry for asking this, but who's in charge of those newsboys. 'Cause Jack looked like the leader, but that boy, Davey, also seemed like he knew them quite well."

"Honestly? Usually it's whoever yells the loudest. But Jack is the unofficial leader of the Manhattan Newsboys," Katherine paused, a smile playing at her lips. "C'mon. Let's go back home so I can get you settled in."

▫◽▫

There wasn't much more to do. Katherine led her cousin around the house, introducing her to a few of the housestaff that happened to be around. After a lengthy tour, Winnie finally settled down in her borrowed room, a fountain pen and a clean sheet of paper staring back as she wondered what to write. Sighing heavily, she began.

Dear Jesse,

Winnie began the letter as she always did, addressing it to her long lost friend. Sometimes it was Mae, or Angus, sometimes it was even Miles. As many as she had written, most of them were to Jesse.

I̶ ̶a̶m̶ ̶v̶i̶s̶i̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶N̶e̶w̶ ̶Y̶o̶r̶k̶ ̶C̶i̶t̶y̶, She crossed out the words with an angry scribble.

I am currently in New York City, visiting my cousin, Katherine Pulitzer. You may have heard of her name recently; her father owns the New York World newspaper.

Winnie glared at the words, not being able to think of what she could write. It wasn't until fifteen minutes later that she brought the pen back to the paper.

The journey here was long- almost ten hours! I got to ride a train for the first time, and Mother almost didn't let me go with all the accidents happening recently. But, after an argument and Hugo (you remember him right? He's the Constable Joe's son, the one that brought me back to my house after the thing with The Man in the Yellow Suit) talking to Mother, the tickets were bought.
So far, New York City seems. . . busy to say the least. From what I saw of it, the Brooklyn Bridge is as grand as you said it was. Katherine- Kath? Can I call her Kath? Anyway, it turns out Katherine is a newspaper writer, and she wrote the front page article about the newsboy strike. You may have heard of it, depending on where you are now.
I got the chance to meet the boys from the article, and they are as wild as you! Most of them are the same age as well. (Seventeen, not one hundred and seven). What was odd is that one boy, Crutchie I think his name is, looked almost exactly like you. He was shorter though, and had a gimp leg. I don't know what's wrong with it, but he uses a crutch to get around- hence, his name.

She went into full detail about her encounter with the band of rambunctious newsboys, describing Jack's charisma and Race's antics. She didn't, however, mention Race's background in the circus. It seemed like too much information to put in one letter. Maybe Winnie could add it in in the next one.

If you happen to find yourself in the city anytime soon, I'̶l̶l̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶i̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶. don't forget to climb a tree for me in Central Park.

Your partner in crime,
Winnie Foster