CHAPTER 3: TWO WRONGS JUST MIGHT EQUAL

A RIGHT.

SAMANTHA ROSE'S POV…

Sean had awoken and we were playing a game where we had infinitive money, and could buy anything we saw.

Sean stuck his finger at a horse farm as it zoomed fast, and laughed. I ruffled his blonde hair. Crazy boy.

Time passed quickly knowing we were having a second shot at everything. I met a few nice people; an old rich woman in her sixties saw our filthy clothes and invited us to come into her sewing shop whenever we were in town, to be fit for new clothes.

It was nice talking to someone for a change, and Sean sat quietly and listened. The woman was named Josephine Mantle and she was very kind, and I did feel somewhat guilty. I had told her Sean was my brother, because young pregnancy was shunned by the hoity-toitys, even though that he wasn't really my child, no one would understand that I adopted him.

Josephine wouldn't of minded, but there were others sitting around us that would of.

When she asked where we were heading, I answered, "We're not sure; just following the trains, I guess."

"Ohh you must have somewhere in mind," she coed, rubbing Sean's cheek.

"I'se wanna go ta New Yoik." Sean said, the first words I had heard him speak in my life, so soft, shy, and gentle, not loud, mean or cry-y, but what surprised me even more was his voice was dripping with a New York accent, though he spent the majority of his life in Texas, and I lacked the accent.

Josephine looked almost as shocked as I did. "Sean!" I explained and picked him up and kissed his cheek.

"He only speaks what he thinks matters." Josephine mumbled, smiling.

I realized this was going to be a good ride, and a wonderful new life I had set out for.

Until I realized this train was taking us know where but the beginning; Trenton, New Jersey, a mere five minutes from my first and last home since the Lodging House.

I told Josephine it was a pleasure to meet her, and husked my boy away.

I didn't want to stay, but there wasn't an urgent reason to flee yet, maybe I could find Kyle. It was when I saw a girl with the thickest black hair, and baby blue eyes, that I needed to leave.

Silvia Smith looked right at me, ignoring the sobbing toddler on my hip, and gasped as recognition flooder her face. Ohh Shit.

I panicked which only confirmed to her that it was me, in the living flesh. One moment Silvia was there gaping, a still short version of her young self, the next I was being surrounded by guards and the bulls.

And that's when I knew things weren't looking good for me, that I had made a mistake leaving Texarkana and a wrong turn that got me stuck in surrounded by people who were, frankly, not exactly fond of me.

And all I could think of was my baby, my little Sean Conlon.

SPOT'S POV…

I hate train rides. I hate train rides. Did I mention? I hate train rides.

There was a lot of stuff that I disliked but hated? That section was a very narrow list.

I mean, I disliked thunderstorms when us Newsies couldn't sell many papes, when my boys forget their slingshots, when I step in mud puddles, when Burnin looks at me like a monster, and definitely when some ratty old man delivers a baby at my door, which my girl thinks she needs to protect, and I end up accidentally kicking her out, having her disappear for years, kicking some gang member's butt (what was she thinking?), and raising my child. At least I bet she is.

But trains, I hated. Because, now as I walked off the train into Trenton rather than Texarkana, I had very little spirit left. I had spent the majority of my money I had brought on a first class train ride to Trenton rather than a normal passenger to Texarkana.

I got a lot of stares I walked around the train station; ha, I thought, I am good-looking. Men's face scrunched up, wishing they were me. Girls batted eyelashes wishing they had me.

And just as I was thinking, I would only love one girl, a circle of cops were forming just outside the doors. A lawn with short grass, something I wasn't used to in New York, was the floor of the circle, and I wondered what was in the middle.

Then, through all the whispered being shared by the bulls, I heard a toddler sobbing softly.

A very familiar voice cooed out, "Sean, whatever happens, I will forever love you."

With that, a small, strawberry blonde girl tackled her way through a gap in the cops, and started sprinting towards me.

Maybe she would have made it away and safe, if she hadn't of spotted me. Because that caused her to freeze and shock widened her eyes.

I stood there gaping, too, but not as obvious as Spotette was. It was only then when I looked at the toddler resting on her hips.

It blonde haired boy with ice cold blue eyes with a hint of smirk smiling through his face. Spotette had raised him. My son.

It wasn't until the bulls reacted; rushing at Spotette, that she closed the distance between us quickly, and I was staring at her dark brown eyes.

If it wasn't for the kid our stomachs could have been touching, but they weren't. Spotette turned and looked back at the cops all running towards her and back at me and the child.

She leaned forward; I had no idea what she was going to do until I felt her lips on my cheek. It was short, as if my face had burned her lips, and she pressed the kid up into my arms and said with a pleading look on her face, "Please, Spot, for me, take of Sean."

And from behind two people grabbed her by the arms, ripping her backwards like a rag doll. She kept her eyes on me and Sean the whole time, and I was positive that was the last thing she saw when she was pulled into that carriage: a tough, stone cold, sleep deprived eighteen year old holding a dirty, small, straggly, blue eyed, blonde haired toddler, as we stood frozen, too shocked to realize that the eighteen year old should of ran straight forward after the girl, and helping her escape.

"Papa." A small, gentle voice called from my hands, realizing it was…ummm...Sean. He had called me Papa, but I had only met him once in my life, and he was so tiny. "We missed ya." And he through his small arms around my neck and promised, "But she'll come back, she's tough."

I glanced down at Sean, whose eyes were a mirror reflection to mine, and I said, "I'se know." And walked back to the train station holding my son in my arms.

DON'T OWN NEWSIES):

Review(: I wanna know how I'm doing(:

Spot's warming up to Sean(:

But who wouldn't be mad if they're spotlight had been stolen by another boy?

Yeahh, Sean's runnin the show now, boys(:

I used a lot of smiley faces(: