This is a story of soulmates.  I don't know how many, nor do I know yet the outcome of this tale.  I know this, though.  None in this tale remain unchanged, and no one said it had to be a happy story.

She was more hurt than angry.  She knew that she should have been pissed, especially because of the almost callous way he'd done it.  But couldn't they have worked things out?  So what if they lived all the way across the city from each other, or that neither of them could drive?

Maybe…but no, she crushed the thought.  For the first time in her life she'd been really happy in a relationship, and this guy had to break her heart and throw it at her feet, over AOL Instant Messenger nonetheless.  Her friends had helped her through it, but like they said, breaking up is hard to do.

She was never quite sure what happened that evening two weeks after the breakup.  Everything had seemed normal as she walked out of track practice (she didn't run, just threw javelin and discus) with her green swim bag(1) of clothes for almost any weather for practice.  She was in her lovely pair of black microfiber pants (the kind that zipper off to become shorts) with about a dozen pockets as well as a black tank top and her sneakers.

She had just put on her headphone and CD player to listen to "Newsies" while waiting for her sisters when it felt as if she was being jerked to the side.   And suddenly, she was most definitely not in Kansas anymore.  Or Pittsburgh, rather.

For one thing, there were definitely not that many old, turn-of-the-century buildings near her school.   In fact, there was almost nothing near her school.  The road was now no longer familiar black asphalt but rather dirty cobblestone.  These facts, however, were pushed to the back of her mind when she was knocked to the ground.

She realized as she fell on her bag that is was warmer here, and that her CD player and headphones had just gone flying out of her hands and down the street.  "Shit," she muttered.  As she knelt and leaned over to pick it up she felt someone staring at her.

A quick glance up identified her observer as a tall young man in clothes that were distinctly turn-of-the-century:  long-sleeved button down shirt, vest, breeches that looked a bit too short, socks, and boots.  All of his clothes were in shades of gray and brown, even the gray cap worn backwards on his head.  Underneath, tufts of dark brown hair could be seen.  She quickly looked down again, needing her vision to pick up herself and her bag, CD player still clutched in her hand.

The boy hadn't said a word the whole time.  He was, she could tell, staring at her and it was unnerving.  She did not consider herself pretty, not in the modern sense of the word, and the last person who had said she was had broken her heart.  The way he was looking, however, made her extremely nervous.  She smiled somewhat anxiously at him as her public relations training kicked in.

"Can I help you?"  Her voice sounded shrill in her own ears, but it brought the boy out of his stupor.  She could see his cheeks redden slightly.

"Oh…uh…sorry.  I-I ran into you, sorry."  She smiled; he was stuttering, and it was kind of cute.  From his attire, he looked to be a-

"…Newsie.  Me name's Snitch."  The boy had continued to talk while she was thinking.  He seemed a bit more at ease now.

"It's okay.  My name's Jill," she said, looking him in the eye.  Maybe he would be nice and not think she was insane when she asked her next question.  She had her suspicions, but still…  "Could you please tell me where I am?"

"Manhattan, o' course."  Oh dear, he was giving her that are-you-sure-you've-got-all-your-marbles look.  She colored slightly and looked to the ground, muttering a thank-you.  That was when she noticed several things: 1) he had some sort of orangey-yellow pouch hanging from his waist and 2) his pile of papers was sitting on the ground next to him and they were starting to fly away in the wind.

She quickly dropped to the ground and began gathering the papes.  Snitch seemed to have just noticed as well and quickly joined her.  She did now, however, pay any attention to the papers until they were all gathered and she was handing them to Snitch.  When she finally did, the date seemed to be almost printed in bold type, jumping out at her.  Her eyes widened and she stared in shock until the Newsie, Snitch, put a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?"  His question was sincere, that much she could tell.

"Uh, yeah.  Sorry, just had a bit of a shock.  I'm a bit lost.  Do you know someone who might be able to help me find my way home?"

Fortunately, he accepted her somewhat shaky excuse.  "Yeah," he said, "I'll take ya to the Lodgin' House just as soon as I'se done sellin me papes.  You don' mind waitin, do ya?"  He looked at her a little anxiously.

She chuckled softly.  "No, not at all.  Should I just wait here?"  She indicated a nearby bench.

"Shoah.  Shouldn' take me too long."  With that, the newsboy moved on down the street, yelling his "improved" headlines.

****************

Snitch had been more than a bit surprised when the girl had just appeared on the sidewalk.  He hadn't meant to run into her, honestly!  One second he was walking down the street, trying to sell his papes, and the next he's knocked this strange-looking girl to the ground.

What a strange girl, too!  Dressed all in black (black trousers, even!) with a shirt that showed a scandalous amount of skin.  No woman, in his mind, should show that much skin outside of her home.  Her hair was a dark blonde that was somewhat messily cropped close to her head.  She wore glasses and, he determined, had pretty hazel eyes.  The most shocking thing, though, was the first word out of her mouth.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, and he could just barely hear her.  He just couldn't stop staring at her.  Even when she looked up at him, he just could not tear his eyes away.  It was only when she spoke that he was jerked back to reality once more.

"Oh…uh…sorry.  I-I ran into you, sorry.?  He wanted to kick himself for stuttering like that.  He was sixteen, dammit, not twelve!  She smiled at him.  Thus encouraged, he kept talking.  "I'se only a Newsie.  Me name's Snitch."

She looked him in the eye, surprising him.  Few aside from his roommates did that.  "It's okay," she said.  "My name's Jill."  A fleeting look passed across her face.  "Could you please tell me where I am?"  Her accent was endearing, he thought.  Not all hoity-toity and most definitely not from New York.  But even if she wasn't from around here, she'd still know where she was, right?

"Manhattan, o' course."  Maybe she wasn't all there in the head.  She broke eye contact by looking down.  He realized when he heard her gasp that his papes, which had fallen to the ground when he'd run into her, were blowing away.  They both quickly gathered the papers.  Inside, he was bemoaning his absentmindedness.  She handed him the remaining papers, glanced at the headline, and went stock-still.  It worried him.

"Are you alright?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Uh, yeah.  Sorry, just had a bit of a shock.  I'm a bit lost.  Do you know anyone who might be able to help me find my way home?"  While she sounded confidant, she definitely didn't look it.  Other people he knew would have left her in the streets right then and there.  However, despite his slight misgivings, he really couldn't just leave her there.  It went against his moral code, however shaky that might be.

"Yeah, I'll take ya to the Lodgin' House just as soon as I'se done sellin' me papes.  You don' mind waitin', do ya?"  He briefly wondered what he would do if she did mind, but something told him she wasn't like that.

To his surprise, she started laughing a little.  "No," she shook her head, "not at all.  Should I just wait here?"  She motioned to a bench about five feet away.  He nodded with relief.

"Shoah.  Shouldn' take me too long."  He moved away from the strange girl ('Jill' his mind insisted) as she settled down on the bench with her bag that was an unnatural green color.  He glanced quickly down at the evening headline to refresh his memory.  Nothing spectacular.  He sighed.  It was getting on towards five and he only had about a quarter of his original papes left.

He though for a moment before moving down the street toward the near corner to work his magic on the passers-by and filch a few wallets if he could.  They didn't call him Snitch for nothing.

Before the end of an hour all of his papers were sold, surprisingly enough, though his restless hands had not been met with success.  Whistling, he moved back down the street to where he had left the strange girl, Jill.

Snitch saw, with slight surprise, that she had put on a short-sleeved button-down shirt that somewhat hid her "feminine attributes" with its large size.  She sat serenely, slouching with horrible posture and reading a book.  He wasn't sure but…did that book have a paper cover?  He shook his head, dispersing the confusing thoughts as he approached her.

"Ehy," he said as he sat down next to her.  She didn't acknowledge him.

He tried again.  "Ehy," he stated, a little bit louder.  Maybe she just hadn't heard him.

Still no response.  Snitch was starting to get frustrated.  "Ehy," he said for the third time, this time waving his hand between her face and her book.  She looked up and blinked, startled.

"Oh, hi," she said, smiling sheepishly at the expression on his face.  "I zoned out, didn't I?"  Not quite sure what she meant, but understanding the gist of it, he nodded.

"I'se done sellin foah taday.  Let's head home," he said as he stood and held out a hand to help her up.  Jill took advantage of his proffered hand, then turned and put the book in her bag, which she slung over her shoulder.

"Let's go then," she said cheerfully, somehow managing to look excited and worried at the same time.  The two walked in awkward silence for a while before his curiosity got the better of him.

"So, where ah ya from?"  She jumped a bit when he spoke.  She seemed to be debating something internally before she answered him.

"Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania," Jill replied, trying to sound casual but failing.  Now Snitch was even more intrigued.

"Really?  Dat's pretty far away.  How'd ya get heah?"  This time Jill noticeably stiffened at the question.  Snitch immediately felt guilty for making her uncomfortable.  "Sorry, I'se don' mean ta intrude," he apologized.

She shrugged her shoulders and looked about to make a reply when he announced, "We're heah.  Welcome to da Newsboys' Lodgin' House.  C'mon, most ah da guys'll be back by now.  Maybe one o' dem can help ya get home."  He led her up the stoop to the entrance.  Inside could be heard the noisy ruckus of boys in the evening.  Snitch could feel Jill take a deep breath before entering.  They stepped through the doorway.

(1) My swim bag is this frickin' huge bag similar to bags that soccer players use.  Let me just say that it's large and con hold quite a bit.

A/N:  Well, this is the first part of my first Newsies fic.  I really only have a vague idea what is going on and who will be involved.  My friends, upon reading a slightly rougher draft of this asked if they could be in it too.  I told them I'd consider it. ^_^  I'm evil sometimes.  On a different note ::chord can be heard in background:: Jill is based very closely on myself.  My now-ex-boyfriend did indeed dump me over AIM, and I had not even the slightest idea it was coming.  I was rather upset about it for a while, and still get depressed spells.  Anyway ::perks up:: I hope this wasn't too bad.  I've noticed I tend to have a problem with dialogue.  Notice there really ain't that much in this part.  I'm working on it. ^_^;;;  Also, I think I'm going to change my format and put my notes at the bottom now. ^_~

Please review!