Home is Where the Heart Is Chapter One

If I owned the Newsies I would share...but I don't. Disney does, and they are too mean to share, lol.

Da place looks da same as always, I said to myself. Tibby's was bursting with the sound of the Newsies, excited to be done with their long day's work. I sighed contently and smiled, it was good to be back.

I ran my hand through my elbow length blonde hair and opened the door to the welcoming ring of the bell. "Well, I see you bums haven't found anywhere else to waste away your days." I said above the noise. It quieted a little and at least a dozen pairs of eyes looked my way.

"Marty? Hey guys! Look who finally found her way back!" Racetrack exclaimed while balancing a cigar between his teeth.

"What's it been, nearly a year? We taught ya actually found a place that youse liked," teased Dutchy as he pushed the boy next to him off his seat.

"I know you were excited to be rid of me, but it seems the government can't find a home as classy as the one you boys offer me, and you would think that wouldn't be so difficult," I teased back as I walked over and sat down next to Dutchy at the center table.

"So where did dey put ya dis time? Must be pretty fancy fer ya to come back without your accent," Skittery commented. He would be the one to notice my lack of accent.

"I got stuck with real muckity-mucks this time. It was hell in disguise, I swear. They did nothing but nag me about my 'street manners.'" I sat up straight and put my little pinky out. "Martha, dear! Would you please sit up straight and use your table manners. Smooth your hair Martha, please, you look like a slob!" I mocked in an overdone English accent that just so happened to sound exactly like my FORMER foster mother- who was not even English.

I have been put in over at least a dozen different foster homes since I was ten. That was when my older brother Arnie was arrested for involvement in a gang. He became my sole guardian when my parents died. He should be out by now, but multiple escape attempts keep tacking time onto his original sentence of five years. I guess the escaping gene must run in the family, because I have run away from all sixteen foster homes. I always find myself coming back to the same place though, to the Manhattan Lodge House and its contents. Ever since my first escape...

I remember it was January and I had no shelter, no money and no food. So here I was, just this scrawny little ten-year-old girl, who could easily be taken advantage of, wandering around the dark streets of Manhattan. But give me a break I was only ten. Luckily for me the right person, who was otherwise known as twelve-year-old Jack Kelly, found me. He was a Manhattan newsie and he is the leader now but he was not back then. The leader was an older boy named Drew, who left about two or three years after Jack found me, to go to college. Last we heard he was in the field of law or something of the sort. An inside joke between Jack and me is that I am the real leader of Manhattan because I have the boys wrapped so tight around my finger. However, I don't like that expression because I would never take advantage of their devotion. They are my family now and the only people left who truly care.

The boys laughed at my impression and it hit me how much I missed their hearty and genuine laughter. When I was at the foster home if they even laughed at all, it was polite, short, and by no means genuine.

I tallied the boys in my head and realized someone was missing. The ring of the bell answered my question, dere he is.

"Your late cowboy, you must be losing your touch," I grinned mischievously. He looked at me and a big smile broke out over his face.

"I could say the same about youse. What took ya so long?" He asked as he made his way over to where I was now standing. We spit shook and he pulled me into a brotherly hug. Yeah, he was the same guy, he was still my best friend.

"Kelly, you haven't changed a bit."

"Hope that's a good thing," he replied with chuckle as he messed up my hair.

The other guys used to think that eventually Jack and I would get together, but they lived to eat their words. We are just best friends, and it would stay that way through thick and thin. They came to realize that after a while; anyway, there was a certain other newsie I was crushing on.

"So what about me, have I changed?"

"Well little girl, you are practically a lady now. A big improvement from that scrawny little fourteen year old that you left here as." He teased. I was almost sixteen now, and Jack still thought of me as the little girl he found in the cold and dark winter streets.

He introduced me to David, who was shy but seemed to have become part of the gang, and his little brother Les. Next Jack told me of his girlfriend Sarah, who is David and Les's sister. I prodded Jack with questions and he promised me I would meet her soon.

They told me all the exciting details about the strike, which happened about a month after I left. I mock chastised them saying, "You boys, I can't be gone for one month before you go and start up trouble." I was really proud of them though, which I told them afterward.

It was not until the walk home I realized how exhausted I was, so Jack and I hung back from the rest of the group. I could hardly wait to collapse in my own bed.

"My bunk better still be vacant or I am going to have to soak somebody."

"Don't worry we know better dan to give your bunk away. Although we weren't sure dat you was gonna be back again."

"Oh please Kelly, you know I am always back eventually."

"Ya youse is like a faithful dog," He joked. I playfully shoved him and he put on this big dramatic production of being seriously wounded. Then his eyes took on a glint of mischief. "So, does Spot know you are back?" I felt the heat rising on my cheeks.

"Uh, no... Is he, uh, how is he been? Same old Spot?" I'm a babblin' idiot. Could I make it anymore obvious I might still have feelin's fer da guy?

"No actually, he is not the same old Spot." I wrinkled my brow.

"How so?"

"He had it bad fer ya Marty, I'll tell you that."

"Hmm…you think so, do you?" I was stifling a grin.

"I'm not blind, I saw the looks on youse faces when ya was together. That's how I know that you were sweet on him too." Poifect. He sounded proud of himself for catching on. His voice took on a higher lighter tone. "I tink you really underestimate us sometimes." I groaned, He said us, which means dey all know. I suddenly felt embarrassed and self-conscious.

"Youse wears your heart on ya sleeve Marty. Ya ain't dat tough to read." Greeeat, dat's really what I wanna hear right now. Tanks Jack.

"Ah, well. It's been almost a year. He probably has his arm around some other girl by now. Seeing him would just bring back some... some stuff. Maybe I should just..."

"Didn't ya know what I meant by him not bein' 'da same old Spot?'" I slowly shook my head remembering he never answered my question. "Well, he hasn't started seeing another girl. Heck, as far as I know, he hasn't even shown any interest in another since youse left. Which is not Spot-like, ya know? When Spot knows what he wants, he doesn't give up on it so easily." Jack said matter-of-factly.

I started to blush again, furiously. It amused Spot whenever he made me blush, which he never failed to do. Even when he is not around he has that power over me. Darn blushing, can't eva keep anyting a secret...