Jack

"Rise and shine, Kelly!" a booming voice brought me out from my slumber. I sat up from the cold floor of my cell, rubbed my eyes, and tried to focus on who was speaking.

Wisel.

He had an odd grin plastered on his chubby face as he unlocked the cell door.

"Whadda ya want, Weasel?" I spoke in an annoyed tone, hoping he would take a hint.

"It's working time," he said, throwing some clothes into my lap that I didn't realize he was holding at first. "Put these on and meet us downstairs."

"Us?"

"Yeah. Me, Oscar, and Morris."

I groaned at the thought of seeing those two idiots again.

"Don't take too long. There's lots of papers to be sold!" with this, he slammed my metal cell door, and I could hear his footsteps all the way down the hall.

When I couldn't hear him anymore, I finally examined the clothes in my hands. A nice white shirt, a gray-ish suit jacket, a carefully knitted hat, and gray pants were in the pile. I rolled my eyes at the sight of the posh-looking clothes.

I just wanna wear my own clothes, I thought before I reluctantly began to get changed.

***

Christina's POV

"I'm telling you the truth, guys. That's what he said." I restated, crossing my arms.

I broke the news to Race, Mush Crutchie about Jack. We all sat by the Distribution Centre for no reason, along with the rest of the group. It's not like we were buying any papers. Maybe it was because we felt like it was our territory, I guessed. Everybody else was conversing and laughing, but the four of us were squeezed together in a tight circle. Cops formed a line, protecting the centre, probably because they knew we were on strike. Pulitzer most likely sent them.

Pulitzer's a wimp, I thought.

"Are you sure that this is our Jack you're talking about? Jack Kelly?" Race questioned, chewing on a stubby cigar, his face contorted with confusion and disbelief.

I released a tight sigh and spoke slowly, as if I was talking to somebody who didn't speak English. "I'm...sure."

"I can't believe he would do this. Why would he do this to his friends?" Mush asked rhetorically, a hint of sadness playing in his voice.

I rubbed my tired eyes. I didn't get any sleep last night. "I dunno, Mush. I dunno."

I rested my line of vision on Crutchie, expecting his to say something, only he didn't. He just stood there, leaning into his crutch, eyes gazing down, completely silent. He just lost his best friend...

As if on cue, the group fell quiet, everybody deep in thought. Small sniffles came from somebody, but I didn't look up to see who. Hot tears threatened to escape my eyes, but I willed them not to. Blinking furiously, they finally went away. I was so deep in thought, that I didn't realize there were boys yelling and screaming around me. Most of them were angry yells, and I finally snapped back into reality.

"Chris...," Race tapped my shoulder violently. "just tell me I'm seeing things. Just tell me I'm seeing things. Tell me I don't see Jack." he pointed forwards and shook his head back and forth.

And then I laid eyes on him. That back stabbing, no good, son of a...

"That's Jack alright," I replied, monotone.

"Then why is he dressed like a scabber?"

Race was right. Jack was dressed like a scab. He had an expensive-looking suit coat on with matching pants, freshly shined shoes, and a nice cap hugged his head. His face was solid, showing no emotion. To top it all off, he had a huge stack of World papers in his hands. Wisel stood next to him on one side, a smirk plastered on his fat face. Oscar and Morris were on the other side, smirking as well. The sight was almost too unbearable for me to look at. I felt a sudden shove past me, catching me off guard. It was Race.

"I'll soak ya, ya fake! I trusted ya!" he was completely outraged as he fought to break through the barrier of police officers.

"C'mon, Jack! It's me, ya friend Mush! Look at me, will ya? C'mon! Look at me!" Mush shouted desperately, eyebrows knit together like he was going to break apart at any second.

"Where'd you get those clothes?" somebody screamed.

Wisel rubbed a wrinkle out of Jack's suit coat and smiled evilly, bearing his skinny rat-like teeth. "Mr. Pulitzer picked them out himself." Other shouts rang out around us, but Crutchie and I only stood there, not saying anything. When I finally worked up the willpower, I stepped up to one of the officers, trying to make myself noticed by Jack. Only, Wisel noticed me instead.

"Oh, you wanna talk to him?" he gestured to the proud Jack. I gave a slight nod. "Okay, let her through." The officer in front of me broke the line, letting me pass. I wasn't quite sure if this idea was smart or just plain stupid.

I stepped up to Jack, giving him the hardest glare humanly possible, not blinking. I furrowed my eyebrows. He gave me a glare back, but his wasn't hard, he simply stared.

"So this is why you didn't wanna run away last night," I yanked at his jacket, touching the soft, lush material. He pursed his lips, not speaking. "You're a liar and a fake." If he was offended by my words, he sure as hell didn't show it. I hated it. But I wasn't finished with him yet. "You lied about everything. You lied about loving me and you lied about us being your friends, 'cause a friend wouldn't do this."

He finally talked, and the words that came out of his mouth were more hurtful than anything before. "So? Whatcha gonna do 'bout it, Chris?"

I felt a pang when he said that. "I-I don't understand you."

His face turned hard. "Oh, so let me spell it out for you. I don't have anybody tuckin' me in at night like most kids. I gotta look out for myself," he licked his thin lips, and scratched his cheek.

I gestured to the group of newsies, who were witnessing the entire encounter. "But you have us."

He knit his eyebrows together. "Oh, what'd being a newsie ever give me but a dime a day and a few black eyes? You know, I can't afford to be a kid no more, Chris. For the first time in my life, I got money in my pockets. Real money. Money, you understand?" he vigorously shook his pockets. Change clanged around. "I got more on the way and as soon as I collect, I'm gone, I'm away. Alright?"

I was pissed at this point, and I didn't care who heard me screaming at him. "Well, that's okay! We don't need you!" I gestured to the group again. "We don't need you!"

"Good. Then it's settled." his voice was low and heartless.

I turned around and began to walk away, only to catch myself turning back to him. I gave him one final hateful glare.

"What? You got a problem?" he muttered, almost asking me to sock him.

I charged towards him with all my might. Too much hate and anger was built inside of me and I had to get it out somehow. Before I could reach him, Wisel jumped in between the two of us, and I also felt hands grab my arms and pull them behind me.

Wisel spit as he spoke. "Maybe you want a job of your own, huh?"

There wasn't a split second before I screamed back in his face. "Never!"

"Then get outta here!" Wisel shoved me backwards, and I realized the people holding onto me were cops. They dragged me away and pushed me back into the angry mob of Newsies. Wisel, Morris, and Oscar escorted Jack away and back into the Distribution Centre door.

I shouted one last time. "Traitor!"

And then they were gone.

Thanks for reading!!