"That's blackmail!" Cassie gasped. Spot shrugged apathetically. He knew it was blackmail, and he couldn't have cared less.
"I know." He told her tonelessly, "But if you'se is neveh gonna see Race or Lunch or Jack or any a' us again, why blow my secrets? Why tell them? It wouldn't affect your life if my friends knew wheah I came from. But it has the potential to affect my life in a big way."
"If I'm never going to see Racetrack again, why would it matter if he knew I was engaged?" Cassie shot back. Spot exhaled. The girl made a fair point. But Spot could see no other way to stop Cassie from opening her mouth and telling Lunch Money everything he never wanted her to find out. They had to go back inside. Things must have looked suspicious enough to the rest of the gang. And Boots, Blink and Mush would be coming home soon; it wouldn't do for them to walk in on the current conversation.
"Fine, Cass." He said menacingly, starting back toward the pathetic, one-room flat, "You tell 'em whateveh ya want. But if ya do, I will tell Race."
Cassie laughed nervously. Spot really must have been desperate. He was usually much smoother about his negotiations, Cassie remembered that much about him. She didn't care if Racetrack found out she was engaged. Why should she? Cassie didn't plan on seeing him again. And Spot's friends deserved to know the truth. He had probably spent years lying about his parentage and higher status.
They reentered, trying not to let their nerves show on their faces. Spot didn't even bother to knock before pushing the front door open. The tension inside the room dwarfed the tension Cassie and Spot had experienced outside. Crutchy and Lunch Money were both sitting. Crutchy on a low wooden stool near their makeshift table; Lunch Money was sitting on the floor, jiggling her foot impatiently. Racetrack was on his feet, pacing the room compulsively. Only Jack seemed at ease, comfortably leaning against one wall.
Lunch Money got to her feet as Cassie carefully closed the door behind her. Racetrack stopped pacing and stood at his sister's side. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lunch Money nudged him into silence. Everyone expected Lunch Money to overreact here, to give Spot a good lecture or to at least try to deck Cassie. But she didn't say a word. She just gave Spot a look-- a look that everyone knew meant: Spot Conlon, you'd better have a good explanation for whatever the hell just happened. Spot read her look immediately and launched into his story:
"Me an' Cass jus' used ta know each uhdder." Racetrack and Lunch Money exchanged skeptical looks.
"An' how d'ya know her?" Racetrack asked, bracing himself to hear about their long romantic history.
"I used ta woirk fa' her family," Spot cut in before Cassie could speak, "Befoah I was a newsie. Years ago. Ain't that right, Cass?"
Spot looked sideways at Cassie. That one glance at her expression told Spot everything he needed to know. He didn't need to worry about Cassie telling anyone anything. Ever since they were little kids growing up together, Cassie always did whatever she was told. She did what was expected of her. And right now she was expected to lie.
Cassie nodded, affirming Spot's lie. She couldn't understand why she didn't speak up, expose Spot's blatantly false statement. It would be so easy. Maybe if his friends found out about Spot's other life, they would disown him, and he could move back to Park Avenue. Cassie would like that. But she didn't open her mouth; she just arranged it in a smile. That smile quickly disappeared a she gasped, realizing she'd completely lost track of the time.
"Racetrack what time is it?" She asked frantically. Racetrack fumbled for his watch, just as panicked as Cassie was.
"We gotta go." He said urgently, not saying the actual time aloud, "I'll walk ya back, Cassie."
They would be lucky to get back to the tracks before the last race ended... and who knew if the Ardens and the McClellans hadn't left earlier? With quick, over-the-shoulder farewells, Cassie Arden and the mysterious whirlwind she'd brought along disappeared from Spar Street, Racetrack in tow.
"Spot, what the hell was that?" Jack asked, the first to talk after Racetrack ad Cassie left.
"What the hell was what?" Mush asked in a chipper tone, having just walked through the front door. Kid Blink and Boots followed, discussing the proper method of lifting merchandise from a street vendor. The three boys had missed the entire incident, and Spot did not want to explain it. Fortunately, Lunch Money gave him the perfect excuse to leave all explanations to Jack and Crutchy.
"Spot, we're going for a walk." Lunch Money told Spot, offering him his coat. It wasn't a question. The other boys snickered or glanced at each other knowingly. Lunch Money forcing Spot to go on a walk either meant Spot was in a lot of trouble, or he was about to get very lucky. Spot took his coat, resigned. He knew it was the former. They left without another word, leaving the other five to smother in the puzzlements of the day.
"Ya lied." Lunch Money said in monotone. She walked slowly, with her arms folded.
"I did not." Spot insisted. He dodged in front of her, walking backwards so they were facing each other. "When did I lie?"
"Ya said ya woirked fa the Cassie goil's family. That ain't true, Spot."
"Yeah it--" He began convincingly.
"Spot."
"Fine, I lied." Spot admitted coldly, "So what?"
"So what?" Lunch Money stopped walking, "Whaddya mean 'so what'? Spot, what's goin' on?"
"Nuttin'," Spot stressed the word, "It was years ago, Lunch, four years ago. I swear, Cass ain't an old girlfriend or nuttin'. I jus' used ta know her when I was a kid."
Lunch Money did not look satisfied by this response, "But what--"
"Lunch Money," Spot interrupted, "Please, drop it." He gave her an imploring look. Lunch Money frowned, biting back a slew of choice words. So she said nothing; she around and started back home. Spot sighed and rolled his eyes. He jogged after her.
"C'mon, Lunch! It's no big deal, it's nuttin'." Spot said again.
"If it was nuttin', then ya could tell me what it was." Lunch Money reasoned.
"I can't, okay?" He snapped, "If it were sumptin' ya had ta worry about, I would tell ya. But it doesn't affect eidder a' us at all, ya got that Lunch?"
She shrugged her shoulders, still angry. Spot gave her the opportunity to protest and chew him out. Instead she waited for Spot to speak again. The silence streched.
"Trust me, Lunch." Spot pleaded, "It's nuttin' ta worry about; we ain't neveh gonna see Cass again anyway."
"C'mon, c'mon, we gotta hurry!" Racetrack yelled back to Cassie as they wove through the crowded gates. They had run from Spar to Sheepshead in less than ten minutes. It had to be some kind of record. Racetrack grabbed Cassie's hand so they would get lost in the evening crowd of race goers, and together they dashed toward the boxes, taking the stairs three at a time. Their hearts were pounding from both the intense cardio exercise and the fear that they would be caught.
"I'll be in so much trouble." Cassie fretted, gasping for breath.
"No ya won't; we'll make it."
"What if we don't?" She asked miserably as they rounded the last corner.
"Then you'll be in so much trouble." Racetrack agreed.
"Comforting."
At last they skidded to a stop, just outside Mr. McClellan's box. Peering through the small window in the door, Racetrack was relieved to see the Ardens still comfortably seated in the box, watching the very last race. No one seemed worried or anxious; they hadn't even realized Cassie was missing. Racetrack felt a stab of pity for Cassie. He couldn't imagine having a family that took so little notice of him. Of course, Racetrack had little experience in families; his parents died of fever shortly after Lunch Money was born, and his grandmother raised the two of them until she too passed away eleven years later. But he had his friends. And Racetrack's friends would sure as hell notice if he went missing for four or five hours.
"Ya safe." He whispered, "They'se still in dere."
"Really?" Cassie asked excitedly, standing on her toes to see for herself. She sigh a breath of relief. The world would have absolutely come to an end, had she been caught. "Do you think I should just slip in?"
"Nah." Racetrack shook his head, "Wait out heah fa' the rest of this race, then hide behind the door when they leave. You can jus' join the group in the hallway and they'll neveh even know you'se was gone."
"Alright. I'll wait then." She agreed. Racetrack nodded. He glanced down the hall. It was devoid of any racetrack enthusiasts, apart from himself, obviously. He knew he had to go. He couldn't wait with Cassie forever. But Racetrack found he was having trouble picking up his feet.
"It was nice meetin' ya, Cassie. Good luck."
"Good luck?" Cassie giggled.
"Yeah, good luck. In life." Racetrack shrugged. He did wish her all the luck in the world, with a family like that.
"You don't think you'll see me again?" She asked, looking into his face earnestly. Earlier that day, she had been certain that she would never see Racetrack again. Now she didn't like that thought very much.
In answer Racetrack raised his eyebrows, looking incredulous.
"I know." Cassie said quickly, "I'm sorry. You're right; I probably won't get to see you again."
"It was a pleashoah." Racetrack took her hand is his. Cassie tingled. "Thanks fa' a great time. I'm glad I met ya."
And he brought Cassie's hand up to his mouth and delivered an innocent peck on the top of her hand. Electricity shot through both of them. Their eyes met, both very confused about what was happening. A minute ago, they'd been mere acquaintances, or so Cassie had thought. She wasn't so sure now, with the way Racetrack was looking at her.
Racetrack had never been one to worry himself over questions about why something was happening or what if something else happened. He liked to go with the flow, and not waste timing asking what-ifs. So he pulled Cassie closer and kissed her. A real kiss this time. Racetrack's hands slid down Cassie's sides, memorizing the curve of her waist. Cassie leaned in ever closer, surprised to find her own fingers in his coarse black hair. My, she was living dangerously today.
The cheer of the crowd started both of them. The race was over. The kiss ended in accordance. Racetrack and Cassie broke apart; Racetrack smirking, Cassie looking shocked.
"Ya neveh been kissed like that by a woirkin' class scoundrel, have ya?"
"I've never been kissed like that by anyone." Cassie said breathlessly. A flush crept into her cheeks.
"And?" Racetrack smirked playfully. Cassie thought a moment.
"It was nice."
"Glad I could help. See ya, Cassie." With a final grin, Racetrack walked away, a definite spring in his step.