"Specs, what is that?" Skittery looked doubtfully at the cup Specs had just bought. There was a carnival in town—who knew why it was there?— and nearly all the newsies had dropped by at least once or twice. It was a good selling spot for papers.
Sadly, the security did not want street trash dirtying the fairgrounds, but being thrown out had never stopped a newsie from going back. Besides, there was a great deal of things to try out at the carnival.
"Come on, just try it. It's not going to kill you." Specs offered the cup, but Skittery backed away, eliciting a grin from the bespectacled boy. "Really, Skittery."
"It's, it's smoking," he blabbered stupidly. Although Skittery prided himself in being a man, he knew where to draw the line when bravery turned to stupidity. Drinking smoking drinks was one of them.
"It's not smoking." Specs rolled his eyes, and Skittery groaned. Though Skittery would never admit it, Specs smart-alecky comments got on his nerves. Very often.
Cautiously, Skittery raised a hand to take the drink, which encouraged Specs to shove it toward him; however, the moment Skittery was no loner in control of the distance between him and the drink, he backed down again. "No. I'm not going to take it."
"Well, I'm going to be sick if I finish this thing."
"Oh, that's encouraging," Skittery muttered.
"I mean it's too sweet. Come on, try some. It's good." To prove his point, Specs took a sip. Skittery kept staring as if Specs would explode at any minute. When Specs removed the still smoking straw from his lips, Skittery let out his breath. "Seriously, it's not going to kill you."
"It's smoking," he whined again, drawing a laugh out of Specs.
"Things don't 'smoke' just when they get hot. It happens when it gets too cold too." Specs shoved it toward him again, and once more, he backed down. "Well, I'm not dead yet, am I?"
"If you're not dead tomorrow, then I'll try some."
"It's not going to be here tomorrow. The drink will be gone, and so will the fair. Come on. Just one sip."
Skittery vehemently shook his head.
"If you're going to get sick drinking it, I don't want to drink it."
"Because it's sweet. I already said that."
"Well, go find someone else to drink it."
"Fine, Skittery, but I spent a whole dime on it. Are you sure you don't want a sip?" Skittery shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, head down.
"Fine. Hey, Dutchy!" A certain blond head in the crowd stopped bobbing and backtracked a few steps.
"Me?"
"Yah. Who else would be stupid enough to be called Dutchy?"
"I resent that." At this Skittery laughed, causing Dutchy to frown. "I really do," he added, as if those words would mean more.
"Sure, if you say so. Anyways, want to try?" Specs shoved the cup under Dutchy's nose, who took a step back, eyes wide.
"Care to explain what it is?"
"Well, it's a drink, and that there is a straw. You put the straw to—"
"I know how to drink, but what is it?" Dutchy took it from Specs hands, already proving he was braver than Skittery.
"Well, I don't think it really matters. I paid a dime for it. It's good. Try it," Specs encouraged. Shrugging, Dutchy tried a sip.
"I guess it's good." He took another hesitant sip, and then another. "I like it," he concluded with a grin. "Here." Dutchy shoved it back at Specs, who then held it out to Skittery.
"Try some now?"
"Nah. I'll skip." Dutchy laughed, causing Skittery to frown.
"Really, Skittery, it's good." Skittery tried to tuck his chin into his shirt in order to disappear; it didn't work. "What's wrong with him, Specs?"
"It's smoking," Specs mocked, causing blood to rise at the back of Skittery's neck. Dutchy laughed heartily and patted Skittery on the back.
"Here, give me that." Without actual permission, Dutchy grabbed the drink, held the straw to the cup, and poured a dribble down the back of Skittery's shirt. Not suspecting such a devious act, Skittery shuddered.
"It's cold!" he exclaimed.
"I told you that much," Specs said, grabbing the cup back and taking yet another sip. "Come on, at least a sip, Skittery."
Frowning, Skittery finally took the cup and sucked slowly until his tongue barely touched the liquid. His eyes widened, and he took an actual sip.
"What did I tell him?" Specs said to Dutchy. "I told him it's good, and now—" Specs tried to grab the cup back from Skittery, but Skittery moved away while he kept drinking. "Hey! Give it back."
"For a buck, I might," Skittery said around the straw.
"Why would I do that? I could just buy another for a dime." In response, Skittery shrugged with his eyebrows.
Dutchy chuckled. "Don't you know? Skittery here will steal anything. It doesn't matter to him if it's worth a dime or a penny."
"So long as it's not smoking," Specs added wryly.