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Post by SlingShot on Feb 16, 2008 10:13:26 GMT -5
Honestly, teaching oneself to read isn't the easiest venture to embark on. SlingShot, bound and determined, had decided to take it outside to avoid the comments of the Brooklyn boys. Which led to her taking it all the way to Manhattan, because that was generally the easiest way to avoid the Brooklyn boys. She sat by the fountain with her book open, a look of concentration on her face. Her hat sat next to her, and her hair was down and free for once, mostly because many wouldn't recognize her, and therefore wouldn't bother her.
The only reason she wanted to learn to read so badly was because it was a pain in her rear to have to buy her papers, and then ask other newsies to read the headlines for her. But she was far too proud to ask someone else to teach her, so that left her in the situation she found herself in now. Attempting, with her limited knowledge of the subject, to teach herself to read.
A brisk breeze blew through, whipping her long hair around her face, causing her to push it back behind her ears with a look of irritation. Annoying as she found it, she'd never, ever cut it. Though she didn't really have any reason to leave it long since she almost always hid it under her hat, but she was also loathe to cut it either. Made for a good disguise, when she needed one. |
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 16, 2008 10:36:25 GMT -5
Central Park had always been Racetrack's best selling spot. He came here when some of the other streets weren't doing him much justice, and by this time he had sold all of his papes. Sure, he had to twist around a few headlines, but he was left with a little more than a dollar in his pocket...he had suckered one guy out of a nickel by insisting he didn't have any change. He was in a good mood, strolling through the park with his hands in his pocket and whistling.
A harsh breeze blew through the park. Racetrack braced himself against it, but his hat blew off his head and spun neatly near to a bench where a boy was sitting. At least it looked like a boy, considering he wasn't wearing a dress...but the long hair was definetly tell-tale of a girl. He was no stranger to girls dressing as boys. In fact nowadays he felt as if he saw more girls dressed as boys than girls in skirts.
Grumbling, he ran after his hat and snatched it up. He caught the eyes of the girl sitting on the bench, and his brow furrowed. "Enjoyin' yourself?" he mumbled, taking his hat and fixing it securely on his head.
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Post by SlingShot on Feb 16, 2008 10:53:36 GMT -5
SlingShot glanced up, smirking slightly as she watched as the boy's hat flew off his head and over towards her. She moved her gaze from the hat to the boy and then back to her book as he started towards her to retrieve his hat. She wasn't really expecting him to talk to her, so she was startled when he did, looking up in surprise to see if maybe there was someone more interesting around that he was addressing.
"Um... I suppose," she responded, closing the book. It was a children's book, about a puppy, which really didn't help her credibility in Brooklyn, but it was the best she could do. She shrugged, pushing more of her tangled long hair out of her face and waiting for the other boy to say something. She wasn't usually much of a conversationalist unless it was someone she knew well. And she didn't know this boy at all. |
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 16, 2008 12:30:38 GMT -5
"Um... I suppose,"
At first he took her for a smart mouth and was about to give her a piece of his mind, girl or no girl. But then it occured to him that maybe this kid didn't know what he was talking about, and hadn't been gawking at him at all. He straightened and cleared his throat nervously. He saw the book she put down: a children's picture book. He couldn't fight the slight grin. "Light readin'?" he asked, nodding towards the book.
He didn't recognize the girl at all. She must have been a newsie--you didn't see girls dressed in boys' clothes unless they were, in Racetrack's experience--but she must have been from somwhere else, considering he had never seen her before. "Far away from home?" he asked without thinking. He rarely thought before he said something, which had mixed results depending on the situation.
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Post by SlingShot on Feb 17, 2008 12:20:15 GMT -5
Sling sighed, sitting back a bit as he commented on her book. She couldn't help that she didn't have anything better to read. Not to mention that she could barely read the children's book to begin with. It would be useless for her to get ahold of a book more her 'age'. She shrugged. "You could call it that, I 'spose." She glanced at him, frowning as another rather annoying breeze came through and pushed hair from her face yet again. This was what she got for wearing it down.
"Far away from home?"
"Brooklyn," she stated simply. Yeah, pretty far away from home. Only because she'd probably be laughed out of her own borough if they saw her choice in reading material. Not that any of them could read well. Especially the boys. Or were even making teh effort. But that wouldnt' stop any of them from taunting her, and she didn't want to go down that particular road. She cared too much about keeping up her reputation as a 'tough girl.' |
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 17, 2008 12:31:11 GMT -5
"You could call it that, I 'spose."
He couldn't help smirking just a little, but didn't comment on it any further. She wasn't a very good conversationalist. He really had no idea what else to say to her. He only nodded slightly when she told him she was from Brooklyn. "I shoulda guessed..." he remarked. It wasn't only the fact she seemed pretty tough for a girl, but also that she didn't talk too much unless she had to. She had a very Brooklyn-esque attitude, and Race could recognize it right away. He wouldn't know a Harlemer form a Long Islander, but Brooklyn he could spot a mile away.
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Post by SlingShot on Feb 17, 2008 12:58:42 GMT -5
SlingShot noted his smirk. If she was deducing the situation correctly, this boy was a Manhattaner, considering she was the one who wasn't in her own territory. Plus he seemed a lot more comfortable wandering Central Park than she did.
"I shoulda guessed..."
SlingShot couldn't help but smile at that. She took pride in who she was and where she came from. She had a lot of pride in Brooklyn. Honestly, it was the only real home she'd ever known, and she didn't usually tolorate anyone saying a bad word about it.
"Ah, did my charm give it away?" She asked dryly. She knew very well that she had an attitude just like most other Brooklyners, but that's what you get when you've got Spot Conlon acting like he's your older brother since you've been little. It was basically the way she'd been raised. She shifted so her legs were hanging off the side of the fountain and she was facing the other boy fully.
"And who might you be?" |
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 18, 2008 21:10:17 GMT -5
"Ah, did my charm give it away?"
So she was a smartmouth after all. That was fine by Race...smartmouthed, he could deal with. Once people started getting cheeky was when he started getting annoyed at them. Obviously, no one could be cheeky to him, but he could be cheeky to whoever he wanted. He scoffed and said, "If charm's the word for it...yeah. Charm." He gave her a grin to let her know he was just being as sarcastic as her. He knew better than to get on the wrong side of Brooklyn kids. Even if they didn't look like much, you never know who they were friends with.
"And who might you be?"
He grinned and demurely removed his cap. "Racetrack Higgins, at'cher service. And you are?" Race couldn't be described as a gentleman (not by any means, especially if you knew him well) but he knew respect. In a life where respect was all some people had, you had to learn when to give it and when not to.
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Post by SlingShot on Feb 18, 2008 21:41:38 GMT -5
"If charm's the word for it...yeah. Charm."
SlingShot flashed him that trademark Brooklyn smirk. Charm definitely wasn't the word for it, but who was honestly going to try and choose a word to describe the attitude of a Brooklyner? Exactly no one.
She couldn't help but laugh as he took off his hat before introducing himself. She wasn't one to expect a large amount of respect from anyone, but it was charming that he thought to extend such a small gesture to her. She stuck her hand out to shake as he gave her his name. "Nice to meetcha, Racetrack. The name's SlingShot Montez." |
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 21, 2008 10:50:16 GMT -5
"Nice to meetcha, Racetrack. The name's SlingShot Montez."
Racetrack took her hand and shook it with confidance. It looked like SlingShot wouldn't turn out too bad after all. "Slingshot, eh? That's a new one. Why'd they call ya that?" Nicknames fascinated him sometimes. The one thing he hated was people having nicknames that had nothing to do with them. So he figured he would see what Slingshot's story was and go from there.
He examined Slingshot for a moment. She looked like a tough kid, Brooklyn raised, if not Brooklyn born. He had never seen her before, so he couldn't tell how long she had been there or if she was in with Spot Conlon yet. It was a big thing in Brooklyn to be in with Spot Conlon, because everyone knew if you weren't, you didn't last long. "What brings ya t'Manhattan? If ya don't mind my askin'..."
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Post by SlingShot on Feb 21, 2008 22:16:46 GMT -5
"Slingshot, eh? That's a new one. Why'd they call ya that?"
She grinned, swinging her feet slightly and pushing more strands of hair out of her face before giving up, it was no use with the wind blowing the way it was. "Eh, I've been living in Brooklyn for a long time. Spot saved me when I was younger, and I used to play with his slingshot a lot. Had a knack for it, as it was discovered. He eventually bought me my own, and the name sort of just stuck. My real one's much too girly for Brooklyn. And Spot treats me like a little sister of sorts, so it's not entirely acceptable for me to be too girly." She grinned. It was very true. Living as a girl in Brooklyn didn't leave much room for girliness.
What brings ya t'Manhattan? If ya don't mind my askin'..."
Sling shrugged, gesturing to the children's book she'd set down when Racetrack approached her. "Trying to avoid being made fun of by the boys back in Brooks." She leaned in a little closer to him, as if she had a secret to tell. "I'm tryin' ta learn ta read. It gets a bit tedious, having to ask other newsies to tell me the headlines just so I can go sell 'em." She didn't really know why she was telling him all this. She had no reason to, and he was probably bored with practically hearing her life's story. |
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 22, 2008 12:21:52 GMT -5
"And Spot treats me like a little sister of sorts, so it's not entirely acceptable for me to be too girly."
Racetrack nodded. "Ain't that somethin'. I'll be sure not t'make an enemy outta you..." he said with a grin. He had seen the kind of damage a sling shot could do, especially in the hands of a Brooklyner, who for some reason had all been taught to handle a sling shot. And if this girl was as good as Spot Conlon, he had something to watch out for.
"It gets a bit tedious, having to ask other newsies to tell me the headlines just so I can go sell 'em."
Again, Race nodded. He didn't think any less of her for it. A lot of newsies couldn't read or write, and they had to hawk the headlines they heard other newsies shout. He wondered for a moment if he should ask if she needed help. He would have gladly helped her, but he didn't know what kind of pride she had and how badly he would damage it. "How's that comin'?" he asked instead.
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Post by SlingShot on Feb 22, 2008 13:36:38 GMT -5
"Ain't that somethin'. I'll be sure not t'make an enemy outta you..."
Sling smirked, that trademark Brooklyn smirk, and shrugged her shoulders. It would be useless to imply otherwise, because anyone who made an enemy out of her was all but making an enemy out of Spot, and that didn't bode well for anyone. She didn't want to go around scaring people away from her, but it was also better to know that she'd always be safe.
"How's that comin'?"
She shrugged, looking at him sideways, regarding him for a moment. She didn't know this boy very well. But he was asking her like he genuinely cared how her learning to read was going. She shrugged again, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I've already said dat Ise tryin' ta teach meself. So you can probably figure how well dat's comin'," she said matter-of-factly. She didn't really have the education or knowledge to teach herself how to read, and it was an extremely slow process. But she was determined, and far too prideful to actually ask anyone else to help her. |
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 22, 2008 21:28:44 GMT -5
"So you can probably figure how well dat's comin',"
He nodded sympathetically. His grandmother, when he lived with her, had forced him to go to school. So Racetrack had gotten an education whether he wanted it or not. In the end it had done him good. He could read the headlines and the stories (for the most part, except for when them reporters stuck a fancy word in there trying to make themselves sound smarter). And he could figure out the odds of a horse race in his head, as well as add up the numbers on dice pretty quick. Probably not the sort of thing his grandmother had been hoping he'd use his schooling for, but it was something.
"You don't want help, do ya?" he asked cautiously. "Cause...well. I could always just not ask ya...take up the book and start teachin' ya against your will without you askin' for any help..." Race was anything but humble. He knew pride well, and he knew that asking someone for help with anything was like throwing in the towel. But, if someone did something without you asking, it was fine. Race wasn't humble, but he liked to consider himself helpful.
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Post by SlingShot on Mar 9, 2008 20:56:16 GMT -5
"You don't want help, do ya?"
Her head snapped up with a sharp look at him. That had been the last question she'd been expecting. In all the time she'd been attempting to teach herself to read, no one had ever thought to offer their help. Of course, she'd never thought to ask for anyone's help, but there were very clear reasons for that.
"Umm..." She bit her lip.
"Cause...well. I could always just not ask ya...take up the book and start teachin' ya against your will without you askin' for any help..."
She kept on staring at him for a moment, unsure of what to say to that. Was he really offering her a way to get help without hurting her pride? She bit down on her lip again. It was one of the nicest gestures she'd ever been offered. The horrible thing about it was that she knew she could ask Tom to help her, no questions, no anything. But she couldn't bring herself to do it, which left her in this position.
After a moment of just staring at Racetrack, she didn't respond, but moved over on the ledge, making room for him. She wasn't going to ask, but if he was offering, she couldn't very well say no. |
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