(A/N This book is dedicated to DaveyIsTheBest because:
1. I agree.
2. They actually wanted to read this so THANKS PAL! Here you go...)

Y/N scrubbed away at the dishes and paused to rest her arms and glance at the clock.

6:07.

She breathed a sigh of relief, and returned to her work. She could leave at 6:10, and since she needed to be home for dinner and it took 13 minutes to get home, that gave her a good seven minutes to do whatever. Y/N's arms were tired from the long day of sweeping, mopping, washing dishes, and carrying giant buckets of water.

It was hard work, but it let Y/N feed her family. That's what matters. You see, a few years ago her alcoholic father was coming home drunk one night and got hit by a trolley and died. He left no money behind for his wife and three daughters. So Y/N's hardworking mother found a job at a local cafe, and supported her family until she got really sick, about a month ago. Y/N started working in her mom's place, and took over most of her jobs at home, in attempt to make enough money to pay for the constant doctor visits and medicine her mother needed.

She glanced one more time at the clock, and happily finished up the plate she was washing and hurriedly put her coat on. "Where are you going?" Mrs. Robinson, the owner of the cafe, called. "It's 6:10 now, ma'am," Y/N respectfully stated, itching to get outside.

"Alright, you can go. Good work today, Y/N," she said flatly. She wasn't the sweetest person, but she could be nice. "Thank you!" Y/N called behind her as she rushed outside. She gladly welcomed the rush of cold air that met her, preferring the sharp cool air of September over a steamy kitchen.

Y/N felt her pocket, feeling a few coins. Mrs. Robinson let her wait on a few tables today, and she managed to earn some tips. Maybe she could go buy newspaper for her mother. Y/N's mother always enjoyed reading the newspaper, keeping caught up with what was going on in the world, or at least New York City.

She looked around the square when she heard the call of a newsie. "Boy ran over in tragic trolley accident! Fatal consequences!" the little newsboy shouted while an older boy watched him with pride. Y/N walked up to him. "I'll take a paper, please," handing him a few coins in exchange for the paper. She flipped through the newspaper and found an article about a boy's foot getting ran over by a trolley. That's what the boy must have been talking about.

Y/N was walking away when she got a genius idea that could save money. "Excuse me, but where do you get your papers?" she asked, turning back towards the little boy. He opened his mouth to give an answer when the older boy walked over and pushed his hat over his face to shut him up.

"Well, why would ya need to know?" he asked slyly. Y/N glared back at the older boy, whom the littler one was now watching with admiration, and said, "You sell newspapers. You must get them from somewhere." "You're right. If ya need to know, it's gonna cost ya 15¢."

"15¢! That's outrageous! I can give you...a nickel. That's it," she said. "Then no deal," he said. Y/N glared at him, then decided to just walk away. Please work, please work, she thought, trying to look confident despite her nervousness. "Please Jack? A nickel is better than nothing!" the little boy whined. "Fine," he said to the boy, then looked up and called, "Fine! We'll tell you!"

She turned around and walked back, perhaps a little two fast, and handed a nickel to the older boy. "We get our papes from the circulation building. Here's the address," he said, scribbling down something on a scrap of paper. Y/N hastily grabbed it. "Thank you," she said coldly, turned on her heels, and started walking home. Y/N couldn't wait to attempt her idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Y/N walked to the address scribbled on the piece of paper. At 7:00 in the morning, she had a half hour before she needed to be at work, so she decided to try out her idea.

She found a building that had a long line of boys outside of it, so she assumed it was the correct place. Y/N got into the back of the line, warily watching her surroundings. After all, she was surrounded by a bunch of strange boys. Luckily, none of them paid her much attention. 

Without any clock or watch, Y/N could only hope that she would make it to work in time. Finally, she reached the counter. From what she figured by watching the newsboys, papers were two for a penny (A/N: IF I TAKE TOO MANY WEASEL JUST MAKES ME EAT 'EM AFTER. Sorry...). Y/N carefully placed a penny on the counter. "Two papers, please," she asked.

"Well, well," the boy, "looks like we got ourselves a girl, Morris. Are you lost? I know girls got the smaller brains and all," he said. Y/N glared at him. "I'm paying you for a service. So please give me what I paid for," she sourly said. The other boy slapped down two papers, and Y/N grabbed the papers and sent one more angry glare at the boy.

She turned to walk away, but the boy rushed out from behind the counter and grabbed her arm. "Ay, a girl like ya self shouldn't be walking home by herself," he said, tightening his grip on her arm.

Y/N jerked free from his grasp, and practically hissed at him, "I may be the one with the smaller brain, but you are stupid to think I'd go anywhere with you." She rushed away as the other boy snickered. "Shut up, Morris," he grumbled, sulking back behind the counter.

Y/N stopped, slightly shaken from the recent scene. She may have seemed ready to murder the boy, but the truth is she was quite terrified. Y/N took a deep breath. Despite the boy, she was able to buy a newspaper for her mother for much less than if she bought it from a newsie. Glancing through the paper, she hurried off to work.