I awoke on the floor. My limbs were tangled in Spot's and a slightly scratchy blanket. I never wanted to move from this position. I felt amazing. I could feel Spot's breath on top of my head, my cheek against his bare chest, his shoulder under my right hand and my left hand on his sculpted stomach. He had his left arm around both my shoulders and his right hand under my knee; holding my left leg across his thighs. We were both wearing what we had last night except Spot had lost his shirt and me my shoes. I tried to go back to sleep so we could stay like this for as long as possible.

My dreams were shattered into smithereens when Spot's bedroom door collided into the adjacent wall and multiple newsies burst in. "Spot, wake up! We got papes to sell!"

Spot and I shot up in the same moment and crashed our hung-over heads together. "Uhhhhh," Spot and I moaned and rubbed our temples. All the boys almost laughed but contained themselves when Spot shot them his grueling stare. Then they all filed out the door and left us with pounding headaches and accelerated heart beats.

"Um, I should go." I mumbled and almost cried from embarrassment.

"Rae, don't be such a girl." Spot said as he looked around the room for his shirt.

"Too bad, Conlon; I am a girl." I slipped on my shoes and grabbed a random shirt from the floor and pulled it over my outfit. "What happened last night, Spot?" I asked, sitting on the bed and putting my head in my hands. "I mean, what happened with us?"

"Well, I remember you being quite a mess." He scratched the back of his neck and I felt as though I may faint. "You told me about your father and started about your mother but I didn't catch most of it because you were crying so hard . . ." he trailed off and my lip quivered.

"Did anything else happen?" I asked referring to our waking up tangled together.

"No, I don't think so." I don't know what happened to my filter that moment, but I said what I knew we were both thinking,

"Did you want anything to happen?" I challenged but slapped my hand over my mouth right after the words met his ears. I blushed madly and avoided his determination to make eye contact.

"Maybe, did you want anything to happen?" He teased with a classic smirk.

"Maybe . . ." I stepped forward so we were just inches apart. Spot closed the gap and leaned down, putting his forehead against mine. "Like I said, I should go." I said and our lips grazed as I spoke.

Just as I was about to step away, Spot pulled me back to him. "Not so fast." He whispered and wrapped his fingers around the lapels of the men's shirt I wore. Before I could react, our lips were joined. He held my top lip gently between his. I slid my hands slowly up his chest, onto the back of his neck and then tangling my fingers in his hair. He lightly tugged on my lip with his teeth and I parted my mouth with a gasp. Our tongues began to battle but I knew he wouldn't let me win so I submitted and let him dominate. I pushed him back onto his bed and things got heated.

Spot missed selling papes today. I never made it to the show at Medda's. What I wanted to happen last night happened. What the guys had laughed about this morning actually occurred. I became a little less innocent. I started to fall in love, but I didn't know if it was mutual. I may have been new but I knew of Spot's reputation.

I woke up and looked at the analog clock on the wall. It was nine. Medda would be pissed. I couldn't stay here. I couldn't live with Spot. I was afraid he would take advantage of me. There's no way he thinks of me how I think of him. I looked at Spot on the other side of the bed. I felt tears start to pour down my cheeks and made no attempt to stop them. I took a random shirt and pair of pants and left the room I hoped I wouldn't see again. I walked shamefully down the stairs past Turtle and the rest of the Brooklyn guys. Turtle smiled at me similarly to the way Les did. "Bye, kid." I ruffled his hair and walked out the door. I heard the newsies start talking about me when the thin door closed.

"I guess that's this week's slut." One guy said and the others laughed.

"Guys, stop being mean. I like Rae." I heard Turtle butt in. I smiled scarcely but continued to cry. I got into a cart filled with newspapers that I knew was going to the distribution center in Manhattan. I curled into a ball and put my head on a ream of paper. I knew another bad dream was coming.

I was eight. We were walking up to the house. I wore a black dress and my father had on a suit of the same color. We had just gotten back from my mother and aunt's funeral. They died of yellow fever. My father blamed me. It really was my fault. My mother caught it from me and my aunt from her. I survived. It should've been me. I had survivor's guilt. My father had rubbed it in my face every day since then. The funeral was the first day of seven years of Hell.

When we got inside, he immediately started drinking hard liquor. I had never seen him drink anything besides wine at dinner. I hid in my room. I felt scared he was acting different and I hated it. He lumbered into my room as I was crying the corner. "What, you're not happy that you ruined everything?"

"I didn't want them to get sick! I'm sorry!" I sobbed and tried to hide from him.

"You're so stupid, Rae! Why couldn't it be you instead of them?" he stormed across my room and hit me transversely on the face for the first time in my life. The second his hand smacked me, I woke up.

I awoke panting and grabbed my cheek where he had hit me that night. I rolled out of the cart, still crying, and made my way to Irving Hall. I went in through the back to apologize to Medda.

She was sitting at her vanity and taking off her earrings. "Um, Medda?" she looked at me disappointedly at first, but her expression changed when she saw me. "I'm really sorry. I know I missed the show but something happened." I explained and wrung my hands together.

"Rae, it looks like you've been through a lot tonight, it's fine." She let me off the hook and turned back to the mirror. I walked out into the main room where the boys were partying as usual. I just sat down in a corner and took a drink from Ida. I didn't drink the beer that sat in front of me, I just stared at it. I let tears freely fall down my face.

"Rae, are you okay?" I shot up and my tear stained face was met with a concerned looking Racetrack.

"No, Race, I'm not."