On the bus, I sat with Cat.

As soon as the bus took off and everyone was talking, Cat ordered me, "Okay, Kat, spill,"

So I told her all about the newsies, and my dancing at two in the morning.

This, at least, was something she understood. As a drama queen, she also danced in her room in her pajamas.

She asked questions, lots of them, most of them pertaining to the exact degrees of hotness of the boys, and the exact degree of Mary-Sue-ness from Sarah.

The day passed with difficulty.

No one was really paying attention, and we barely did anything in our classes, because half the world was on vacation already and the other half was daydreaming about vacation.

So instead of paying attention in class, I obsessed over the newsies in my house.

In my house.

Oh my god, if they touched my computer I would sue.

I hoped Mike was teaching them the ins and outs of video games and television. We had two TVs, one upstairs and one downstairs. I just hoped that when I got home, they were both still intact.

"Hey wanna come over?" Cat offered as we got off the bus at the end of the day.

"Can't. I gotta get home and persuade my parents to let Cowboy and the gang stay until we can get them home." I said. "I'll call you later, and tell you what happened."

Cat nodded. "And tell Cowboy I said hi," She said slyly. I grinned. Sarah would pitch a fit if she lost Cowboy.

At home, I found Racetrack and Cowboy sitting on the porch, smoking. Our grandfather smoked, so Mike was practiced in the art of kicking someone out of the house when they had a cigarette or cigar in hand.

I stopped in front of them. "You know you have to be eighteen to smoke," I said. I wasn't sure if this was true, but I was sure that you at least weren't allowed to buy them until you were eighteen. "It kills your lungs."

"Like hell," Race told me. "It don't hurt me."

"Bet you have terrible breath, though." I said. "Come on, boys. If you want to stay here, we still need to get my parents' okay, and they're not gonna let you stay if you smoke."

Jack and Race looked at each other. I looked at Race, who sighed and put out his cigar. Cowboy followed suit.

"Good," I said. "Now get ready, clean up and whatnot. My mom'll be here soon,"

I went inside.

Inside wasn't disaster, per say, but it was confusing. The dog came running at me, and I pet him, to avoid accidental murder.

Mike was playing on the computer with Les, who as now dressed in sweatpants and my brother's ALL I DO IS WIN T-shirt. Sarah, true to character, had dug up some old knitting needles from somewhere in my mom's office, and was knitting something with lots of pink. Blink was trying to play with a Nintendo 3D with one eye, something nearly impossible, and I could see no one had bothered to tell him you could switch off the 3D. Mush was watching Star Wars, and that gorgeous face of his? Absolutely glued to the screen.

Conlon had pulled something out of his pocket, and was in the process of polishing his cane.

I put my hands around my mouth. "Boys!" Everyone looked up, except Mike because Mike never let anything distract him from his video games. Cowboy and Race came in behind me. "Boys, whether you stay or don't stay, you need names, because your newsie names are nicknames only."

The boys protested, but I stood firm. This was going to be interesting.

"Cowboy, you get Francis Sullivan," I said with a grin. Sam whined at my feet. "I know, Sammy, but no one who's seen the movie's gonna believe his name is Jack Kelly."

"What mov—"

"Moving on!" I declared briskly. "The Jacobs are taken care of, Sarah, Les, and David." They nodded. "Race, you're now Anthony Higgins. Nice to meet you. Mush, you and Blink need a name."

"What kind of name?" Mush asked.

"I dunno, Mark, Sam, Evan, Tom, Dick, Harry, I dunno, pick something." I said. Mush liked Mark, so his new name was Mark Meyers.

"Blink, you need a first name and a last name," I said. Grinning, I offered, "How about Trey Parker?"

Blink, unsuspecting, decided he liked the name, and I had to excuse myself to flop onto the couch and laugh until my insides hurt.

I turned to the high and mighty King of Brooklyn that sat in a chair with his feet on the dining room table. He looked up from polishing his cane.

"Yeah?" He demanded.

"You need a name, Conlon," I said. "Or you can keep Max if you like,"

"I got a name," He glared. "Spot Conlon,"

"Spot is something you name your dog," I told him bluntly. "Come on, Spot, you need a real name, a real person name. You can use your real name, or a fake name, but you need a name,"

At that moment, Jess got back.

"Hey, Race?" she called. "Can I spot a cig?"

"Shoah," He called back, tossing her the box in which he kept cigars.

"Thanks, Race, darling," She said, and threw it in the trash can.

"!" Race moaned.

"Take a chill pill, Higgins," Jess said, unfazed.

"Spot, pick a name already," I told him.

He yawned and leaned back, completely at ease. He bugged me.

"I'm stickin' wit' Max,"

"Suit yourself," I said, and turned to Jess, "Hey Jess, guess what Blink's name is?"

Her eyes widened. "You didn't!" She accused.

"'Course I did!" I shrieked with newfound mirth, and we both collapsed in laughter.

Everyone stared.

I managed to get up, and I told the newsies, "Guys, there is something I have got to show you,"

Everyone followed me to my laptop.

"Dougie Howser?" Jess guessed.

"Nope," I said, turning my computer on.






I stared at her. "You don't even like Twilight,"

She shrugged. "Pretty Little Liars?"


"Modern Family?"


"Doctor Who?"





"Sort of," I said, and she opened her mouth to protest. She didn't like Glee. I mean, she liked it, but it wasn't her favorite. "Just look."

First, I showed them the Glee version of Run the World (Girls). Sarah looked horrified, and the boys looked horrified. Jess and I laughed.

Then I showed them the original Beyoncé version, and Sarah shrieked, "Lucy!"

"Name's not Lucy, Sarah," I said. "That's my fanfic name. That's what I review and write as. My real name is Kat,"

"But this is completely inappropriate!" She shrieked, and sent Les away.

"Oh, no," I said. "If you want inappropriate, things are about to get much more interesting." Jess and I grinned evilly at each other.

So I typed into the YouTube search engine, im sexy and I know it lmfao music video.

I clicked on the VEVO video, and sat back to watch.

Jess and I were on the floor, shrieking and laughing at their stunned expressions.

Sarah gave me a good scolding, and I swear that right then I believed that Mush would always look at me with an expression of horror.

Fuckin' hilarious, I swear.

Then, of course, I had to show them Party Rock Anthem, and Britney Spears songs, and a whole bunch of other things. I decided not to skip the ads, because as I told them, "It's amazing how much of our culture we skip when we skip the ads,"

"Man," Mike said over my shoulder, watching an ad for a Justin Bieber perfume. "Our culture sucks,"

I smacked him upside the head. "It ain't ours, genius," I told him as the next video started. "We're not American,"

"Yeah we are," Jess said.

"I'm not sure being South American counts, Jess," I told her.

"Wait, you're not American?" David asked.

"'Course not," I said. "Je ne suis pas americaine. Je suis colombienne,"

"Then why are you speaking French?" Jess asked me.

"Technicality," I flapped a hand, and Spot shushed me as the next video started.

This one was a particular favorite of Jess's. It was Shakira and Beyoncé's Beautiful Liar.

I swear that Sarah fainted dead away, and Jess and Mike fell over laughing at her. Then, because Jess was Jess, she began doing the belly dancing routine for the song. She had been like, obsessed with it since it came out on Just Dance 3, and had memorized the entire choreography of it. The boys stared at her for a while.

Then the boys sat down, and began yelling out things to type in for a search engine, and it was Blink who suggested I type in stripper. Jess had to slap him.

I knew just what to show them. I looked up Doctor Who funny moments, and for the next half hour, we indulged ourselves with images of the gorgeous Tenth and Eleven Doctors. Well, I did. The boys just moaned for me to look up something else.

God, I love Doctor Who.

Then we watched some videos of 7 year olds dancing to Single Ladies. You should've seen the look on Sarah's face as she watched those little kids dancing in bikinis.

Then the door opened, and the moment I had been dreading was here.

"Aw, crap," I muttered, and I swear, the hamster ran for cover. "Follow my lead," I hissed at the boys and Sarah, and they nodded obediently. Except for Sarah, because I think she was in shock, just from the Run the World song. It was my favorite, personally.

I closed my computer, and I got up and went to my mother. "Hola, Mama," I said, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She peered at me.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Mama, you know that thing that Jess and Mike and I have been obsessing over?" I asked,

She nodded. "Newsies? Esa pelicula con los ninos que bailan?"

I nodded. Sorry about my terrible grammar, but my screwy keyboard doesn't type things like the tildes and the thing over the n. "Yeah, Mama, that. And with the Mary Sue,"

"You know it's a musical?" Jess asked, coming over. She eyed the purse and bag my mom clutched. "Is there more in the car?" she asked.

My mom nodded. "Can you get my computer and the other bag?" She asked, and Jess ran out the door. "They're in the passenger seat," She called after her, and opened the fridge, pulling out a jug of milk. "About the newsies?" She prompted me.

"Mama, que creeras si los newsies vinieron de la pelicula?"

She looked at me. "Has leido Inkheart?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, but that's not the point."

"Then what is?"

I gulped. Jess came running back through the door, clutching the computers, which she placed on the counter. Closing the door, she came back to ask me with her eyes, Have you explained yet?

I told her back, About to.

I turned behind me, "You can come out now," I called.

Spot was the first one to come out. My mom stared as the other newsies came. Jack, David, Racetrack, Mush, Blink, Les, and Sarah. Racetrack looked miserable without his cigar.

"Estoy sonando," My mom stared at them. "Catalina, me pasas el telefono?, Tengo que llamar al doctor."

"Mama, you are a doctor," Mike said, taking advantage of her lack of attention to sneak a marshmallow from the cupboard.

Mama peered at Sarah. "Esa es la nina que hace los manteliots?" She asked, and I nodded.

"Yup, she makes the doilies," I confirmed. "Mama, can we keep them?"

This was straight out of a book, and my mom knew it. I guess she thought she was dreaming, or hallucinating, but she was still sane enough to say, "Por supuesto que no, Catalina," She always called me Catalina instead of Katherine, because that was my name in Spanish.

"Mama, please," I begged. "They stayed here all day, and nothing bad has happened,"

She stared at me. She waved us all to the living room, and we all sat down, and told her the story, from beginning to end.

Being a good person, as well as a mom, she couldn't just turn them away.

However, determined to win the argument, she presented every possible dilemma. Where they would sleep, school, homework, modern changes, accent, style, everything, and we all came up with possible solutions.

Finally, she had no choice but to submit.

"But I have to call your father," She told me and my brother and sister, and she turned to the interlopers. "I'm afraid I'm going to need your names, real and fake."

The introduced themselves, leaving my mom stunned as she walked off, repeatedly slapping her forehead. She told me she was going out, and to talk to my dad. I got the impression she was going to get something for a migraine.

"Why do you speak Spanish?" Les asked me.

"Porque somos Espanol," Mike told him, with an accent.

Technically, no we weren't.

I was born in Colombia, and so was Jess, but Mike was born in the United States. Also, my grandfather was Spanish, so we were a quarter Spanish only, and the rest was Latina, with a bit of U.S. for my brother.

I explained this for the newsies, and I told them,

"We gotta go walk the dog." I raised an eyebrow. "Any volunteers?"

I was stuck walking the dog with Sarah, but I decreed that there would be no computers while I was gone. Instead, my brother could show the boys his video games, and he readily agreed.

I gave Sarah one of my sweaters, and grabbed the dog.

On my way out, I saw Jess take Racetrack aside for a game of poker. I grinned. Mike loved poker, but Jess was the real mastermind.

Walking the dog was interesting.

As soon as we left the house, Sarah jumped into the conversation.

"It's strange how much has changed," She said.

I nodded. "But I think it's for the better. I mean, change is inevitable, right? If we didn't move forward, we'd have to move back,"

She looked at me. "Yes, but shouldn't we move forward in a different direction?" She shuddered. "All those awful things, and Les saw them,"

"Truth be told, I don't think the kid understood most of it," I said. The dog looked up at me with a smile in his eyes.

"How else have things changed?" Mary Sue asked me.

"Well, for one, no one wears dresses anymore,"


"I mean, not to school anyway, at least not with leggings, and if they do, they don't wear dresses like you do,"


When we got back, I found that Jess and Mike had taught Les and Mush the words to Waving Flag, and they were singing it at the top of their lungs. The others were grinning and watching the video, trying to learn the words. Apparently, they had ignored the no-computer rule.

"When I get older, I will be stronger," I jumped in immediately, "They'll call me freedom, just like the waving flag, so wave your flag . . ."

But the worst part, Spot Conlon was surfing Fanfiction.

"Spot!" I shrieked. I ran over to see what he was reading. He looked stunned, if a bit amused.

"I didn't know I was gay," He commented, and I saw he was reading one of those fanfics.

"Son of a—" I smacked my forehead.

"What?" The other newsies immediately ran to the computer, and they spent the next hour on the computer, reading fanfics. Turns out, they were all players. Fanfiction seemed to have given them all a million girlfriends . . . and boyfriends. And Sarah seemed to have multiple personalities.

You know, a Mary Sue, a bitch, etc.

So I decided to go and drown my embarrassment in a large glass of chocolate milk.

And then another.

And then a bar of mint chocolate.

And a Hershey Kiss.

And six more.

I like chocolate.

I was sucking on a candy cane when my mother came back.

She had bags and bags of things. Like, six in her left hand alone, and a seemingly infinite number in her right. Yeah, did I mention my mom has like, supermom strength? She carries like, four laptops to work every day, and like, six bags filled with papers. It's scary.

"Jess, hay mas en el caro." She told my sister, who nodded, dragging Mike out.

Since I'm the resident fashionista of the family, I grabbed half her bags, and towed them to the couch, where I dumped them.

"Boys!" I called. "Sarah! Get over here, we brought clothes!"

But only Sarah came over, looking disgusted at Fanfiction.

Oooh, this was gonna be fun.

I walked over to the computer, and elbowed my way through the crowd of newsies, and pressed a button that locked the computer.

The newsies immediately protested.

"Clothes, now!" I ordered, and pointed. I grabbed Cowboy and Racetrack each by the ear, and proceeded to tow them to my mother.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow" they complained, and when Jess came back, she dropped her bags and collapsed in laughter at the sight of her sister towing two newsies.

Ah, it was good to be me.

I seized a pair of jeans.

My mother, forever a mom, had labeled every pair of jeans with a Sticky Note. The pair of jeans I held was labeled Francis, so I tossed it to Cowboy. One by one, I passed clothes out to every boy.

They peered at us like we were crazy, and we grinned like maniacs.

"Try them on!" I insisted. "Go!" And they left to try on their new torture devices.

"Sarah?" I called, finding something at the bottom of a bag. "Look here." I held it up, then looked at my mother with raised eyebrows.

Jeans. Skinny jeans. For Sarah.

God, my mom must hate me.

Jess gaped.

"Oh God, we're screwed." She muttered.

Sarah took the skinny jeans from me. "Why don't people wear dresses anymore?" She asked me.

"It's simple." Jess explained. "Because it's stupid." My mom glared at her, and she shrugged. "What? It's true."

God, this was gonna take a while.

So, I told Jess,

"Jess, from now on, you are in charge of converting Sarah into a normal girl." I said, gesturing at her clothes.

Sarah, though, had apparently only heard the word convert.

She frowned. "I'm already Christian."

God, this was gonna be annoying.

So, while the boys changed and Jess towed Sarah away, I snatched up the phone, and I dialed a number I knew better than my own.

Cat picked up immediately.

"Katie!" She shrieked into the phone. I held it a foot away from my ear.

"Jesus Christ, Cat." I said when the screech had passed. "Relax."

I sat down, and I told her everything about that day.

"Cool!" She said about a billion times.

Then, the boys came back, and I felt like hugging my mom.

Instead of clothes that would make them look like pharmacists, she had picked out cool clothes.

Example: Cowboy's shirt said, SPOILER ALERT; the Titanic sank O.o

Racetrack's read, No, I'm Just Short.

Blink's T- shirt was a T-shirt from the Fifa World Cup, but with a picture of an octopus on it, and beneath that it read, Paul Tells the Future; Bow Before Him!

Mush's shirt (that hugged his abs) read Behold My Awesomeness; I Stole It From Taylor Lautner. (Which, considering his abs, was more appropriate than you'd think)

But my personal favorite was the following, that Spot wore, Fear the Glare.

I fell over laughing.

Then, the door to Jess's room opened, and out came Sarah Jacobs, who now looked like a popular.


She wore something out of my closet, a cream tunic, Greek-style, with brown leggings and a belt. Jess had lent her my golden hoop earrings, and my brown newsie cap, and given Cinderella here her own brown combat boots.

The boys, of course, stared, gaped, cheered, and Mike wolf-whistled, something he'd learned from those nutcase friends of his.

Sarah looked down at what she was wearing.

"I feel so. . ." She searched for words.

"Popular?" I muttered.

"Pretty?" My mom suggested.

"Gohgeous?" Race offered, and Jack glared at him.

"Uncomfortable." Sarah finished. Then she looked at the boys, really looked at them. "What are you wearing?"

"Clothes." I answered for them. "It's what they wear nowadays."

She looked at me like I was crazy.

Oh, we have so much work to do.

Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies, Vevo, the names of Beyonce, Shakira, Glee, Lmfao, Cinderella, Taylor Lautner, the Fifa World Cup, Sticky Notes, Waving Flag, Nintendo, or Star Wars

Claimer: Cat, Jess, my mom, my dad (by mention), Mike, and myself. I also own this computer I'm typing it on. Cuz it's mine.


I'm so happy!

the other day, i was using my Nook Color in class, and I was on Fanfiction, looking at reviews for this story, and I ran over to my friend and i was like, screaming, "I HAVE FANS! I'M SO HAPPY!"

thank you, my fansies!

cookies for all!

virtual of course

but it's the thought that counts