A/N – I know this is up rather quickly but Raeghann said if I posted again she'd post another chapter to HER story and Lord knows I'm DYING to find out what happens next in her story so duh – nuh – nuh!, Here you are!
--Riot
Medda's was lit up like it was Christmas, 'A unusual thing for me to say' I thought to myself; 'since you haven't SEEN it at Christmas'. I quickly stopped thinking to myself for Spot was giving me a look one might give a rabid dog as I stood there arguing internally.
Changing my expression, I let him drag me inside past throngs of newsies milling around out front. The Manhattan kids were already all in attendance, some were helping girls dressed in brightly colored showgirl costumes hang streamers and more than one boy had their shirt sleeves rolled up, sweat staining their backs as they heaved tables and chairs to either side to create a space to dance.
Feeling a sharp pinch to my arm, I looked over to see Misery standing next to me, an impish grin lighting her pixie-like face. She wore boys clothing like me, a cranberry colored shirt rolled up at the sleeves and un-tucked, gray trousers with a patched knee cuffed at the feet yet still dragging slightly, and black suspenders almost falling off of her narrow shoulders.
"Nice outfit, I think it's dashing." I grinned at her, despite her unnerving presence to which she blinked then laughed as I began to giggle. She was referring to the fact that the clothing was her own, but she didn't mention when it was to be returned which was a heartening thought.
I doubted I had enough money for clothes yet. The boy Pie Eater sauntered up, mopping his face with the handkerchief he usually wore around his neck, yellow shirt stained slightly with sweat. Grasping Misery by the back of her neck, he bent down and gently kissed her before swatting her bottom and walking quickly away when she squawked in protest.
I noticed that despite the angry light in her expression, that her eyes were slightly glazed over and dancing with contentment, as I turned away to look around. Spot had disappeared, I spotted him a moment later talking to Jack, who had his arm draped possessively around a girl wearing a showgirl costume that was a frothy mixture of blue and green, her mis-matched eyes serenely taking in everything around her, two feathers hanging from her pinned up hair, one blue the other green. I nodded at Irish when she met my gaze, and she nodded back, quirking a corner of her mouth up before interrupting Jack who laughed at her and squeezed her closer to him.
I spotted Jazz sitting on a corner of the stage, singing a lively song in French, Kid Blink smiling at her as he attempted to copy the words, bumbling over the foreign language, but laughing at his own mistakes. She was dressed differently than the other girls, she wore a cream and black colored outfit and her blonde hair swung freely around her shoulders.
"Look out below!" A person slid down a rope and landed with a thud in front of me, a huge smile lighting her face. Tiggey only half-pouted when Mush ran up, yelling at her for doing something so daring. But she was trying not to laugh the whole time, I could see it in the quiver of her mouth and the way she winked at me over Mush's shoulder.
She wore boy's clothing as well, a grayish-blue long sleeved shirt over an ivory wife-beater, brown pants and her scuffed shoes. The cabby hat was there as well, perched precariously in her black tumble of hair. Mush, realizing that yelling at her wasn't going to affect her, pulled her to him in a semi-headlock and rubbed the crown of her head with a fist, grinning at me while she swore and fought furiously to get out of his grip.
"How the hell did you manage to do that anyway," Mush said releasing her and looking up at the balcony above us where newsies milled around talking, shouting, laughing. Tiggey shrugged; apparently she was deathly afraid of heights.
"I just grabbed the rope and held on." Mush gave her a fond smile, and the pair moved away, arms slung around their waists. I felt a little lonely even while standing in the vast crowd of kids until someone came and put a hand on my shoulder. Starting out of my thoughts with a jolt, I looked up to see Grim standing beside me, his face solemn, but his eyes bright. He wore a cabby hat pulled low on his head, and a dark blue plaid vest over a light gray shirt. I could see the chain of a watch hanging out of his pocket that swung and caught the dim gas light.
"You came," he stated matter-of-factly, his raspy voice croaking out of his ruined throat. Clearing it and turning slightly pink he finally smiled at me revealing a gap in his side teeth where a tooth was missing. It gave him a very boyish charm that his rough outward demeanor couldn't cover up. I nodded and put a cigarette into my mouth, reaching for a match, but Grim beat me to it. Lighting my cigarette and then the one that now dangled out of the corner of his mouth, he shook the match and I watched the smoke curl and drift away.
"So can you dance?" I eyed Grim and exhaled out my nose with a snort. Grim was watching me expectantly. I waved a hand out to the crowd and then put a hand to my ear.
"I don't hear music, do you?" Just then a huge roar went up as someone started playing a lively tune on a piano and a woman I assumed was Medda appeared, trilling in a pretty voice. Grim winked at me and I rolled my eyes, but couldn't fight the answering smile that flashed onto my face. I saw people begin to dance, while others hung around the sidelines, watching the dancers and Medda, who was now surrounded by her showgirls. I saw Jazz and Irish amongst the faces and it took me a second to realize that the piano player was Hyena.
Hyena wore baggy trousers and a tight undershirt with a larger pale green shirt over it, her short brown hair falling into her eyes as she really laid into what she was playing. I stared, transfixed as she pounded the keys, putting her heart and soul into the music. She'd only been playing for five minutes and already her shirt was stained with sweat, under her arms and in the small of her back. Medda, a tiny woman with bright red hair that clashed with her purple satin costume, came and put her hand on Hyena's back and the small Asian girl opened her dark brown eyes and smiled serenely at the older woman before concentrating once more.
Hearing a commotion at the door, I turned my head to see that Brooklyn had arrived. Emotions swept in, her eyes searching, standing on her tip-toes until she spotted Racetrack who was sneakily trying to spike the punch with a dull, stained silver flask full of God knows what. Rushing over, he swept her off of her feet and she took the flask into her hand and took a deep swallow before kissing him, throwing her hands around his neck. I laughed at the spectacle they were making, aware somehow that it was not just for themselves, but also for the benefit of everyone else. The two were born entertainers.
I waved at Sprite, Duck, Bookworm and Bells who accompanied the trio, and they made their way through the crowd as I ignored Grim who was scowling slightly. Bells deviated in her route, and I saw her approach Spot, who was now standing at the bar, dropping back a shot of some murky amber colored liquor that reminded me of the shade of Bells' hair although hers was shiny, not dim. I saw him toss the shot glass so that it skittered across the bar slightly before Bells put a hand on his forearm and spoke to him, her brows drawn together, eyes worried.
Spot waved her off, but not before the look on Bells' face sharpened and she shot him a zinger because he stiffened and both pairs of eyes swerved to where I stood with Grim. Hastily I looked elsewhere, and when I finally swung my gaze back, Spot stood with his elbows braced on the countertop, his back to me and Bells lazily sauntering in my direction. Gulping nervously I grabbed Grim by the sleeve of his shirt and literally dragged him out onto the dance floor.
Now I've said it before, maybe not in the telling of this story but I'll say it again for my reader's benefits, I cannot dance. I couldn't dance if my life depended on it. The extent to which my dancing abilities went was for me to be able to bob my head and tap my foot in time to the music. MAYBE and that's a huge maybe, I could drum out a rhythm with my hands, but even that was asking slightly too much. Luckily for me the stoic, tough, damn well scary looking Grim could really shake his ass. The boy had me twirling, dipping, and gasping for breath in less than ten minutes.
Laughing uproariously at a huge dip that almost sent me careening into Emotions and Racetrack, who just laughed and moved away, Grim set me back onto my feet where I waved a hand in my face and begged off from dancing so that I could get a drink. Grim offered to go grab me one, but I let him stay where he was as I wove my way through throngs of newsies towards the bar.
Spot was still standing there, leaning now against the stout, pitted and stained counter. I stopped at his side, nudging him lightly with my arm as I rested. Grimacing, he looked at me, and I was taken aback by the raw emotion in his cool blue eyes. Lighting a cigarette with a vicious twist of his wrist he blew out a huge cloud of smoke near my face and I could smell the whiskey fumes.
"Whiskey huh? My God but that's an old man's drink." Spot shrugged and bitterly jerked his chin towards his empty shot glass after throwing it back and draining it of the translucent brown alcohol. The bartender served him with pursed lips, not approving but also vastly aware of whom the young hooligan was.
"Yeah, well I'm an old man," Spot said as he flicked his ash into an empty bowl and moodily cupped the shot glass with a dirty hand. Frowning at him, I worried a spot on my lower lip with my teeth before the bartender came back with my pint of ale. Saluting him and tossing what I hoped was a decent tip onto the counter, I walked away well aware of Spot's eyes boring holes into my back. I refused to obsess over what his problem was, knowing fully well that it had to do with the fact that everyone was seemingly paired up tonight and he was without Cinder.
Draining part of the pint as I walked, I ran into Sprite and a tall young man with an almost sour expression on his handsome face who I recalled was named Skittery. Sprite gave me a shy smile, tucking one of the many uneven strands of her blonde hair behind one of her ears. Skittery nodded shortly at me before directing his attention back towards…something in the crowd. I couldn't figure out what it was until I saw Emotions and Racetrack doing a very exaggerated version of a tango, Racetrack clutching a flower in his teeth. Emotions was laughing, tears leaked out of her eyes and onto her cheeks and it made me pause to see the change that boy had wrought out of the hostile, suspicious girl from a few days ago.
"Crazy bastards," I heard Skittery say, although his voice was full of affection. Sprite smiled up at him and they moved on, while I navigated my way back to where Grim stood leaning against the wall talking to Flint and another boy. Flint gave me a knowing smirk as I neared and I raised my eyebrow at him.
"Riot this is Doc, Doc, Riot. And you already know Flint." I spat into my hand and shook with Doc after he extended his own grimy spittle covered paw in my direction. He was short and compact with fine, light brown hair and a derby hat on his head. His eyes were an odd whiskey almost maroon color, and he wore a billy club attached to his trousers by a leather strap. His shirt was the off-white color of a favorite garment, worn again and again.
"Why do they call you Doc?" Doc flexed his hands and gave me a slight smile before raising a smoldering cigar to his mouth and puffing on it.
"Because the Bronx don't have any girls to stitch up our war wounds so I do it." I must have had a horrified look on my face as I glanced at his thick, callused hands for Doc laughed and Flint was smiling at me. Grim put a hand up to the back of my neck and kneaded my muscles loose until I realized that weren't actually laughing AT me.
"How do you think we like it? Big old clumsy boy sticking a needle into ya skin? His name is sort of a joke if you will," Flint explained, barking out a warning to a pair of newsies who danced too close to him. The little boys stopped their exaggerated high-stepping and slunk away, casting nervous looks over their shoulders at the older youth.
A stir began towards the top of the entryway stairs as I saw kids being pushed aside by a group of raggedly dressed boys. Standing on my tip-toes I also saw that they were armed to the teeth, clubs sticking out of waistbands, slingshots dangling from back pockets. One even wore a pistol tucked into the front of his pants. I was always amazed that people did that, especially men. I kept waiting for one to blow off their bits and pieces.
Jack, Mush, Kid Blink, Pie Eater, and some of the other larger Manhattan boys began to congregate in the middle of the floor, followed by some of the Brooklyn boys. I noticed Grim and Doc looking at Flint expectantly and he finally nodded, and the trio went to join them after telling me in curt tones to stay put.
The tallest boy, a very dirty greasy haired kid with a dull shock of red hair sneered at everyone. Looking into the faces of who I assumed were the Harlem kids, I saw scrawny muscles and thin faces. Yet they carried with them a dangerous air that warned people they weren't an easy victory.
"Spook sends his greetings, however he can't make it tonight. He has other…plans for this evening." The pause was deliberate and the boy looked right at Spot who turned a dull purple, starting forward as if to throttle the kid. Jack leapt on him, and Spot struggled for all he was worth, swearing and thrashing about. I knew then that it had been Harlem's way of saying that Cinder was there, and otherwise occupied with Spook.
More than one of the Brooklyn girls stood behind the boys faces shocked and angry. Bells had a firm grip on Spot's collar, whispering into his ear fiercely while Emotions struggled against Race's grasp, hissing that she was going to go take care of the 'lyin' witch right now'.
I huddled against the wall, not out of fear of what was occurring exactly, but more or less scared about everything. Things were suddenly moving too fast, playing out in a rather macabre drama that I found I couldn't control. Raising my chin, I shouldered my way through the crowd, stopping finally in front of the red-haired kid. He leered down at me, spitting onto the floor close to my boot. There was a loud hum to the crowd of newsies, and the music had long ago stopped playing.
"I wanna talk to Cinder," I said calmly keeping a corner of my eye on the puddle of spit so that I didn't step into it. The boy laughed and I sneered back at him, hooking my thumbs behind the front of my suspenders, near my waist affecting a rather casual stance. Inside I think my stomach turned over five times, upending a whole colony of butterflies that beat rapid wings against my ribcage and heart.
"Riot," I heard Grim speak to me in a low voice, followed by Spot's furious choking of outrage. Tilting my head back, I met the red haired boy's eyes with a steady look. He was looking at me in an appraising sort of manner now, eyes narrowed in speculation. Finally nodding shortly, he told me that he would go talk to Cinder and meet me back here in an hour or two. With a final mocking laugh at everyone in the room, he waved gaily over his shoulder as he herded his gang of miscreants out ahead of him.
My legs began to tremble as Harlem left, and I was surrounded by furious Manhattan and Brooklyn newsies asking me if I was crazy. Emotions declared that she was going with me, a statement that was met with a disgusted look from Bells.
"Jinx will never let you go with them and you know it." Emotions wasn't calmed by Bells' answer in the slightest and started pacing around, muttering to herself. Misery's gaze held a vast amount of respect as she watched me sit down in the nearest chair, after which I had a thoroughly pissed off Grim in my face. I waved him away, not interested in getting lectured further, although it seemed everyone who I had made an acquaintance with was intent on doing just that.
After the tenth 'what the hell do you think you're doing' speech, I stood up, abruptly jogged to the bar, grabbed a bottle that was sitting just off to one side and not caring what was in it, trooped outside and sank down in between two barrels out of sight and mind, but still in a position to watch for the boy, Jinx.
It wasn't but fifteen minutes later when a familiar boot nudged my ankle in an impatient manner. I moved over and Spot slumped down against the wall to sit by my side. Taking the bottle of what I had found to be a smooth, sweet wine, he slugged some back and then handed it to me, wiping his mouth on a sleeve. We sat like that for a few moments, neither one of us saying anything, the only sounds our ragged breathing, and the rasp of a match as I lit a smoke for myself and then one for Spot.
"What are you playin' at Riot?" he asked me softly, turning his head so that I could look into his eyes. Uncomfortable, I shrugged sullenly and took a swig from the bottle, holding the sweet wine in my mouth as long as I could before swallowing it. Truly my desire to help the pair was starting to fade away. I wasn't altogether sure if I wanted to go home to the future, or to just carve out a new existence in this muddled past age, but away from the complicated mess of Spot and Cinder's relationship or lack thereof.
"I feel bad she's in Harlem and I want to find out why," was all I said. Spot snorted and shook his head, leaning it back heavily against the brick wall and exhaling, closing his eyes so that his lashes fell onto his cheekbones. He looked gaunt and tired in dim glare of a streetlamp.
"I don't know why you give such a shit about me, Riot but nonetheless, thank you." Standing, he helped me to my feet holding my hand a heartbeat longer than necessary, his eyes searching my own. I could feel his bitter pain about being betrayed and hurt and it hurt me in turn for somehow I felt close to this rough kid.
"I'll have some of my boys waiting just outside the Harlem line, they can't go in there they'll get beaten. Take Grim, he'll go with you. I…I can't," he said simply. I could hear both the reasons clamoring behind the shaking anger in his voice as he tried not to lose it completely. Placing a hand on his arm, I squeezed gently and was given an awkward one-armed hug in return before Spot drew away, embarrassment showing plainly in his eyes and the set of his mouth.
"Come back in one piece, okay kid?" he said gruffly slapping the brim of my cap like usual before he walked away, using his familiar walking cane. I knew he would head back to Brooklyn, and after the other kids tried to return to their party, they would find that they couldn't and most would head back to their boroughs as well.
A hand grabbed my arm and whirled me around, and I came face to face with a very upset Grim. His mouth was set in a thin line, and the muscles in his jaw worked as he ground his teeth together. Smiling sheepishly up at him, I was rewarded with a snort and a very faint uplifting of a corner of his mouth before he stiffened and I saw green eyes flicker towards the corner where the tall outline of Jinx leaned up against a streetlamp, tossing a coin up into the air and catching it, over and over again.
"Let's go, he's waiting." Taking a deep breath and hitching my suspenders up to settle more comfortably, I lead the way towards Jinx, and Harlem, and my meeting with Cinder. I had gotten under Spot's skin, now it was time to see if I could do the same with the friendly albeit surprisingly guarded girlfriend. Or was it ex-girlfriend now? I cleared my head of my musings and fixed my thoughts on the task ahead. Lord knew what was going to happen before this night was over. I sure as hell didn't.
Shout Outs!
SkyShadow – Yay a new reviewer AND cookies!! I'm in heaven! Thanks so much, hope you continue to read and enjoy.
Raeghann – You already posted your new chapter before I could finish this so I'll post this chapter as a thank you for posting yours. Yes I quite like the sparks flying between Riot and Spot, I do believe they shall continue. Cinder is going to be a key character still, she's quite the strong girl although it may not seem it. Not long enough? My last few chapters have been like 7 pages each, that's a lot for me! Hehe…
Just Duck – Haha yeah one of my friends calls his mom 'Ma Dukes' so that sort of stuck with me for some reason. Cinder doesn't die, it's Spot who's supposed to die. ::hug:: yeah I couldn't help but use your belt-loop thingy, thank you!
The Mayor's Daughter – Yes Cliffhanger's are evil but I do leave a lot of them. Thank you for reading and reviewing despite my evilness!
Locket – Hey thank you! I appreciate you're reading it and taking the time to drop me a note. Thanks again
Uninvisible – Hmm, what part was corny? I can get sort of corny but I do try to stay away from that, sorry. Oh yes I am a Red Sox fan, a BIG one. I live outside of Boston by an hour or so.
NOMAH!
Dimonah Tralon – Yeah Riot's got an equal mixture of guts and a tendency to jump into things without thinking. Thank you though, I hope I can keep up writing chapters you guys enjoy.
Rede – Yeesh what a great compliment! I'm turning red and I hope I can keep up the good work and not let ya down! Thank you so much for reading my story this far and writing me reviews, I appreciate it. If you want some more great stories to read, try Raeghann's stuff, she's awesome.
Voided – Nope I wouldn't say you were falling off the limb, but I can't say if you're staying on it securely or teetering because that would give stuff away. Although I guess I don't really do much by keeping it TOO complex, haha…
Are you a Yankees fan? If so, I'm sorry the Yankees played extremely well it was a tough ALCS series. If not who do you like?