When I entered the lodge house, of course there was instant silence. Everybody knew I was a girl. Eyes followed me as I walked upstairs to the bunk room. I went to my designated bunk and laid down.

Up here, all alone, I had time to think quietly to myself. Bliss.

But my peaceful thoughts were interrupted by a knocking.

"Who is it?" I groaned from the bed, too tired to open my eyes.

"Ya know, most people at least would look," an amused voice responded.

I cocked my head and peeked through one eye. It was a trio of Brooklyn newsies piling into the room.

"Can I help you?" I asked tiredly, not even sitting up.

"Maybe," the speaker replied. "We'se wanna know why Spot has ya heah."

I opened my eyes all the way and looked these boys straight on. The speaker was tall, and had warm brown eyes. His coppery hair was messily stuck under his cap. The one on his left was pale with short red hair and light brown eyes, the one on his right was tan with black hair and green eyes. They were all strong and intimidating. Sadly, I was too tired to care.

"That's between me and Spot," I said curtly.

"Sorry," he replied, "didn't mean ta intrude. I'm Duke, by da way, and dis is Flames (he pointed at the red head) and Le Maître (he pointed at the dark haired boy). The latter one gave a wink at the mention of his name. Duke sighed shaking his head. "He's a terrible flirt, dis one is," he groaned. "Just ignore him like da rest of us."

"Ignores ses mots? Je suis à votre service, mon cherie!" The boy spoke grinning.

"Ah," responded Duke, "he prefoihs his native language anyways, so it ain't hard to ignore 'im."

"Madamoiselle, feel free to speak wiz me whenever you weesh." He took my hand, kissing it lightly, getting a kick from Flames."

"Sorry 'bout, him," sighed the red head. "His name means 'the master', and he's got it for a reason."

I waited for someone to explain why.

"He's a master wid da ladies, if ya get what I mean."

"Oh," I responded. "Okay, I'll remember dat." I gave him a brief glance receiving, yet another wink.

"So, you must be sumtin' special, if Spot's wants ya so bad." Duke spoke curiously.

"I guess," I replied dully.

"What's goin' on heah?" a voice at the door asked. Everyone jumped in alarm. Spot was leaning against the wood calmly, as usual. "Well, well," he droned, it seems me boys aw making demselves aquainted wid me new newsie."

"Just intraducin' awselves, Spot. No harm or anytin'!" Duke responded quickly, everyone rising at once, including me.

"Well, I'se gonna have ta ask ya ta leave. We'se got . . . business ta take cahe of." Spot's arm snaked around my waist drawing me near to him. The other boys looked between Spot and me and backed out of the room silently. Spot's arm released me as soon as they were out of sight.

"Ok, put dis on." Spot threw something white at me, to my surprise.

"What is this?" I asked in surprise.

"A dress, ya know, da ding youh supposed ta be wearin'." He rolled his eyes impatiently.

"Well, would you at least leave?" I asked feeling embarrassed.

"No time, just put it on!"

I sighed angrily and began to strip out of my boy clothes, in the corner.

After getting dressed I faced Spot.

"Now put dis on," he handed me a jar and a small brush. I looked at it in confusion. "ta cover youh scars wid," he answered.

I went to the bathroom and applied the powdery cover up to my face. The scar was covered up. I looked the way I did when I first came to this country.

"What's the occasion, Spot?" I asked quietly.

"You've got a date," He spoke in our language.

"With whom, might I ask?" my voice was strained.

"Someone I know. He's got information that I need."

We were on the streets walking side by side. Spot's cane was up against his shoulder, like a solider.

Spot paused and grabbed my shoulders so his lips were against my ear.

"I need to know exactly what the Bronx's boys are up to, got that?" Spot was whispering into my ear, tickling the skin.

"Yes."

"Good goil." He drew me up to a nearby window. It was what appeared to be the inside of a bar. There was a large group of boys in the room (probably newsies). "Welcome to da hang out of da Queen's pickpockets. Not nearly as pleasant as meself, but if ya want information, dey're youh people."

I watched carefully. I could see these boys were all armed with knives. Additionally, they were all looking around with shifty, suspecting eyes.

"Remember me old friend Silias?"

"Yes," I spoke through gritted teeth.

"Well, he's da one wid information. He's da leada' of Queens pickpockets, actually."

I groaned.

"Get ta woik, goily. I've got youh back if anytin' should happen." Spot patted my back and left.

I grimaced at what I was about to do. Cautiously I opened the door to the bar, choking back. The room smelled terribly of smoke and alcohol.

"Hey sweet face, can I get ya a drink," someone asked drunkly. I shoved him off and looked around the room. In the corner I saw him. Silias was sitting at a table by himself, watching me in interest. I strolled over to his table and placed a hand on my hip.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked sweetly.

"Not at awl, miss," he answered beckoning towards the seat across.

"What brings a nice goil like you heah?" he asked slyly.

"Oh, I just heard that the most powerful man in Queens was here, so I wanted to see him for myself." I was in awe at my quick thinking and my ability to remain in character.

He grinned, taking in the bait. "Well heah he is. Now what aw ya gonna do about it?"

I could feel everyone's eyes on me. I felt uncomfortable. What should I do next?

A few of the guys started arguing over something quite loudly.

"Tell ya what, I'se got me a great apahrtment neahby. Let's ditch dees boys and go dere, for some peace and quiet."

"Why not?" I smiled, trying to appear alluring. I knew that my brothers would be ashamed of me but I was working for Spot now. I just had to get the information.

Once outside I decided to boost his ego more.

"So I hear you're the best fighter in New York," I said impressed.

He furrowed his brows.

"I wish I'se could say dat's true. But ta be honest it's actually Spot Conlon. But I'se da best pick pocket." He grinned wickedly.

"Ah, I heard this also." I clenched my fists.

His bright green eyes glances at me, flashing in the lamp light. He looked confused by my tone.

"Eh, if I eva' stuck me hand in yer pocket, it wasn't poisonal or anytin'. I'se just need da money, ya know?"

I did know. Just because we're kids New York isn't going to be nicer to us. I've seen kids make money by any means to get shoes, food, shelter, anything! Newsies especially suffer because income is based on how well you can sell papers. I've known their hardships well.

"You didn't pick my pocket, I uh, have a friend you've picked from."

"Oh, sorry. By da way ya neva' told me youh name."

"Oh, um . . . it's Er- Emily. Emily O'Connor."

"And I'm a monkey's uncle. I know liahs when I heah dem. What's yer real name?"

I sighed dragging my feet with each step.

"Erin . . . Collins."

"Nice, very Irish."

"I am Irish." I responded. It wasn't hard to tell!

"Why'd ya lie about yer name?"

"Because . . ." What would Spot do? I asked myself. I was blanking and he was waiting.

Oh God!

"Um, well I really am not supposed to be here." I said vaguely.

"Why?" His tone was meant to sound uninterested but his impatience showed otherwise.

"Because . . . my brother. He told me I had to stay home and he didn't want me to talk to pickpockets, but I thought you were so . . . interesting." It was a poor answer, but hopefully he'd buy it.

"Ah, da protective type."

"Yup." I replied quietly.

"Don't worry youhself, Silias is good at takin' cahe of important people such as youself."

"Really?"

"Yes ma'am. Me apahrtment is right heah." He opened a door to a small red bricked building. I followed him inside, not without looking behind me first, looking for Spot. Where was that boy?

I trailed behind Silias, following his shaggy black hair, almost impossible to see in the dark. Finally we reached his room; a small shabby place, with a single bed, dresser, and basin. There were small objects all over the floor. From wallets, to watches, to scarves, to pocket knives.

"Why don't you come sit wid me?" Silias offered patting the side of the bed next to him.

I sat down, somewhat ungracefully, while trying to avoid stepping on the objects on the floor.
Silias's hand slide around my waist.

I was about to voice my interjection but thought better of it. He might get suspicious.

"Could I ask you something?" my voice was hesitant.

"Anytin' he whispered against my neck, his breath sent goose bumps on my flesh.

"I have a friend whose a Bronx newsie and he's been going between Brooklyn and the Bronx at night. He won't tell me what he's up to, but a friend said you'd know."

Silias looked thoughtful for a moment, his eyes grew distant.

"Yeah, I would know. He's probably paht of da Bronx Scheme against Conlon."

"What scheme?" I asked confused.

"Well, ya know dere leadah, Shadow, he ain't happy about Spot controllin' everytin'. So he found a friend in Brooklyn that also doesn't like Spot. His friends sendin' him some weapons, some of which I poisonally sold him from my pickin's."

"So he's putting together an army to destroy Brooklyn?"

"Yeah." Silias was starting to lean a little too close.

"But why would you get involved?" He furrowed his eye brows in annoyance.

"Well, I don't cahe ta be honest. I'm no Conlon fan but I don't hate him. I saw an opportunity for money, dat's awl. Besides, Conlon is da best. E's pretty much invincible." I saw a mix of fear and admiration shine in his eyes. Then they returned to the present.

"Back to us," he began pulling me close by my hips.

"Um, well I really should be going. It's late, and my brother –"

"Just five more minutes . . ." his voice grew husky and his eyes hungry.

"Maybe another time—"

He sighed. I could of sworn I heard him murmur "women!" under his breath.

"Fine. Do ya want me ta take ya home?"

"No! . . . I mean, no that's ok. I can manage."

He grinned, "tough goil!"

I rolled my eyes. "Sure."

He walked me down the stairs and opened the door for me.

"When can I see ya again?" he asked.

"Umm . . ."

"Dere you aw!"

I turned around in relief when I heard the familiar voice.

Doc was running towards me with a stern look on his face.

"I'se told ya you can't talk to no pick pockets!" He then gave Silias a down right scary look. Silias was unaffected.

"So youh Erin's brudda?"

"Yeah, and don't you forget ya piece a garbage! Stay away from me sister!" with that he wrapped an arm protectively around my shoulders and pulled me away.

"See ya later, den, Erin!" Silias called slyly.

I looked up at Doc, his face was still stern, but from this point of view I could see he was a little pale.

"You ok?"

"Do you realize," he spoke sharply, "What situation you put youhself in?

I sighed, shaking my head.

"I'm sorry, he almost figured out I was up to something, but I got the information!"

"That ain't what I'se talkin about!" he snapped "He could of hoit you!"

I choked on my words. "What?"

He sighed, his arm still was over my shoulders protectively.

"Cleahly, ya don't know as much as ya tink."

"What does that mean?" I asked annoyed. What did I do wrong?

"Neva' mind."

"May I cut in?" A voice behind us asked.

I looked back to see Spot's piercing blue eyes.

Doc grudgingly removed his arm and Spot's replaced it.

"So," he began staring straight ahead, "I'se guessing dis was youh foist time trying to get information from a man?"

"Uh, yeah."

He chuckled darkly to himself. "Typical. Youh too trustin'. Ya really need ta remember me special rules."

"Sorry. I got what you wanted, though."

"Good. But next time be cahful. I like me newsies ta come back the way I left dem."

"How did Doc know—"

"I sent him as soon as ya entered da apahrtment. I also told him what paht ta play."

Spot's preparedness was extraordinary.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." The rest of the walk was silent. When we got back Spot walked to his without a word.

Sitting up I in bed I kept my eyes on the other boys. All still sleeping. The silence in the air was stifling.

Silently and slowly I crept out of bed. I dressed myself up without waking any one. After putting my hat on I slinked out of the room. The door made the softest squeak but disturbed no one. All I had to do was go out the door and I'd be free.

I was missing my friends from Manhattan and needed to see them. Especially Blink. I felt my face get warmer. He was my first real friend.

My hand turned to doorknob ever so slightly when something black and long hit it.

"Ow!"

I hissed, turning to see a grinning Spot.

"Hello, Sweet heart, where are you off to at this hour?"

"Nowhere, just going out."

"To see Silias?"

I paused in confusion.

"Wha- No! I'm going to see Manhattan!"

"You were going to see Manhattan." He smirked stepping between me and the door.

"I don't want you going there anymore."

"You can't stop me."

"I saved your life."

I winced at that one. Why'd he have to say that?

I huffed loudly and turned. If you could hear someone smirking I was getting a deaf from it.

I sat at the bottom of the stairs and rested my head against the wall.

"Come with me." He spoke from next to me.

I looked up at him and saw a playful expression.

"Why?"

"I think it's time to teach you to fight proper."

His words were familiar. Very similar to Torrence's.

"Fine." He took me to his docks, walking down the planks. I stayed on land with my arms crossed.

"Come on, slow poke!" he called from the end.

I shook my head, "I came to learn to fight not to drown!"
He cocked his head thoughtfully and then grinned.

"Good idea!"

"Wha-? What's a good idea?" I asked startled.

He ran at me in super speed and picked me up. I had no time to protest. Before I knew it, I was in the water for the third time in a week.

"No!" I shrieked. I could hear him jump in next to me laughing.

"Hold still, I'se gonna teach ya ta swim!"

"I'm going to die!" I wrapped my arms around his neck as instinctive protection.

"Hold still!" he ordered. I finally stopped flailing my limbs and listened to him. Then I realized how cold it was.

"No one goes in the water this early!" I complained, squeezing him tighter.

He rolled his eyes. "The sooner ya listen the sooner we leave. Now I need ya ta let go for a minute."

I gave him a hard long look. Once I decided he was serious I spoke.

"You're joking."

"Nope."

"If I die, I want you to know that—"

"Save it, and just let go!" he interrupted.

I released my grip unwillingly and began to sink. His hands caught me at the elbow.

"Now kick you're legs like scissors and do this with your arms." He demonstrated with one arm so the other held me up. My first try was a failure. He pushed me to do it again and again until I could stay up for 5 seconds.

The sun was breaking through and the boys would wake soon.

"Good woik. Let's get changed now." Spot lifted me up and then pulled himself up.

We were both dripping water and I was shivering.

"You'll get used to da cold. Especially afta we practice in da winter." He laughed and began walking with his usual cockiness.

"T-the w-w-winter?"

I couldn't tell if he was joking but I knew one thing was certain. Spot was absolutely unpredictable.