A/N – Yay new reviewers!! I'm so glad to see new faces and old ones as well. Thanks for the support, it means a lot. –A/N
Hope flickered on Cinder's face at my words and I had to look away from the naked expression she wore. Grabbing a brush from the small nightstand by my cot, I ran it threw my hair, wincing at the snarls. Then I set about peeling off the old stockings I wore, and putting fresh ones on. As I bent over, my long hair shielded my face and hid the worry that I knew was there. Holding a hand up to my mouth, I huffed out a breath and almost keeled over, smelling the garlic from a quick meal I had purchased off a street vendor for lunch. Ignoring Cinder, I ducked down the hallway and into the washroom, scrubbing my teeth with an odd powdered mixture that the kids used for such purposes. I doubted that it worked very well; most of them were missing at least two or more teeth already.
When I went back into the bunkroom, Emotions was there, stripping her shirt off to put on a cleaner one. Her face was impassive, but set in stormy lines around her mouth, her eyes averted, cheeks flushed. Cinder was sitting on the edge of my cot, fixing her shirt so that it hid her stomach, even though she wasn't showing yet. I knew that Emotions and Cinder had been good friends once, but her defection to Harlem was a line she couldn't cross back over.
"You can't hate her forever," I remarked quietly when Cinder wandered away from the bunkroom and we listened to her retreating footsteps as they went down the stairs to the lobby. Challenging hazel eyes met mine, and we just looked at each other before Emotions looked away, struggling to maintain her calm. I understood how she felt, for I had always had a volatile temper that got me into a lot of trouble back home. Home, I thought wistfully, wondering where I would end up. I figured I would be tossed around in the flotsam and jetsam of the limbo I had been thrust into. Other times when I thought about it, I blinked hard, and pinched myself as if to help wake me from this bizarre dream. All I accomplished was to cover myself in bruises.
"I don't hate her…" Emotions words were uttered so softly that at first I wasn't sure that I had heard them. She was hooking suspenders onto her knickers, and pulling them over her shoulders, her ink stained hands moving slowly. Turning around, I tucked my brass knuckles into my back pocket, stomped my feet into my worn out boots, and slid into the soldier's coat I owned. Looking about, I couldn't find my scally cap and I frowned, not wanting my ears to fall off my head on the walk to the Green Harp. It was thrust into my face suddenly, the tattoo on Emotions' wrist standing out in their simplicity until she dropped my cap into my hands and began buttoning the cuffs of her shirt.
"Look…I don't handle being left in the dark very well and what Cinder did, leaving like that without even trying to tell any of us why…It sticks in yer throat," she muttered, brushing a lock of her auburn hair behind her ear, hazel eyes serious. I nodded silently, letting her know that I knew how she felt, but I didn't feel compelled to let her in on Cinder's secret, not yet. As we finished preparing to go out, Sprite blew into the room, tears in her eyes, looking paler and thinner than I remembered. She was practically emaciated and she needed a hot meal and a long nap. Bookworm followed her dark eyes troubled, a bright red scarf wrapped around her hair. Bookworm was the dorm mother, and comforted each of us in whatever way she felt she could. Right now, Sprite needed her after having yet another argument with Skittery. Half-listening as I cocked my cap on my head, I made out that Skittery wanted Sprite to go live at the Manhattan lodging house, while she wanted him here.
Duck walked in, rolling her eyes quickly at me, a slight grin tugging up a corner of her mouth before she let her face go blank, and joined Bookworm and Sprite. Duck had her finger marking a place in a very thick book, and she made no attempt to hide that she was reading while listening to Sprite, adding in her own bits of wisdom every now and again. I realized as I left the room to go down to the lobby how much I liked it in Brooklyn, and how sad I would be when or if I ever got home. I could honestly say that I would miss everyone very, very much.
Once in the lobby, the motley crew that was going out tonight began to assemble. Spot was there, leaning up against a wall, his gray cap slung low over his eyes, wearing a navy pea coat that he must have picked up at the Navy Yard. He had a cigarette dangling from his mouth, and for a moment it reminded me of James Dean. Snorting under my breath, I avoided his eyes as Emotions came downstairs, followed by Rooster and Swagger. Cinder appeared out of the kitchen as Swagger reached my side and slid his arm through mine. I caught a quick glower from Spot as Swagger ushered me to the door, leading the way outside and down the street to the Green Harp. It was only a few minutes away, but all the snow made for treacherous walking. No one spoke until we had reached the entrance way and headed inside. As we entered the bar, it took a few seconds for our eyes to adjust to the dim lighting and thick haze of cigarette smoke.
A line of girls was doing the can-can on stage, their stocking legs flashing through the ruffles of their brightly colored skirts. The crowd was mostly if not all male, but there were a few women, some waitresses, others obviously working the room, trying to score. As we sat at a small round table near the back, the rousing music of the dance number subsided and the room filled with boisterous chatter in between acts. A middle aged woman wearing a stained apron over her ample waist came over and asked us what we wanted. All of us ordered pints, which were brought over in due time.
As we sipped our drinks, Swagger kept talking in my ear, an arm slung around my shoulders. I found his close proximity annoying, and kept leaning away from him. I wasn't big on guys being overly aggressive with me and even though Spot had done some things that I found forward, he always managed to keep just enough distance between us emotionally and physically which was one of the reasons I had thought he was back with Cinder. I never understood people who could keep their emotions in check so well, or learned how to turn them off and on like a light switch. I felt my emotions and displayed them no matter what they were. Then the music started up again, a keening tin whistle filling the air joined after a few melodic notes by an Irish drum and a violin.
Swagger seemed to get tired of my ignoring him and moodily sipped on his drink. I began to get the feeling that tonight was going to end very badly when I looked up into the shuttered, yet probing gaze of Spot from beneath the brim of his cap. Cinder sat at his side, but for the first time, she didn't cling to him or look at me with hate. I wondered if Spot knew, and also knew that she had confided in me, thereby relieving him of having to protect her so thoroughly, but then again I wasn't really sure. Emotions began tapping her finger on the table as the group onstage slid into a more rousing number, and a space was cleared on the floor, some of the men beginning to dance with showgirls who had appeared from a door on the side of the stage, others dancing with girls who looked worn and beaten down by life on the streets.
Emotions was hauled up by Rooster, who even though he knew that she was with Racetrack, couldn't let an opportunity to dance with a pretty girl go to waste. Swagger glanced over at me, but I smiled apologetically and explained how dancing was hazardous to not only my health but others around me. Swagger just shrugged and jerked his head inquiringly towards Cinder, who nodded slowly and they left, leaving Spot and I alone. Spot had shrugged out of his coat, and rolled his sleeves up, combating the heat of so many people in such a closed in space. I could see the lean muscles bunching underneath the skin on his arms as he leaned forward from across the table, resting his hands clasped together, tilting his head towards mine so I could hear him over the din.
"Why did you come here with Swagger?" His words were slightly muffled as he had stuck a smoke into his mouth, but I understood him. Lifting my hands palms up, I raised my shoulders and gave him a quizzical expression before I could feel the fake smile on my face tighten and freeze. Putting my hands down, I stared at Spot intently, lazily twirling a lock of my hair around a finger before tucking it behind an ear and lighting a cigarette of my own.
"What the Hell do you care?" I asked, using the cigarette to emphasize my words, jabbing it in his direction. Taking a drag, he let smoke trail out of his mouth and around his face and head before grasping my wrist in a cool, rough hand. Shocked at his touch after what seemed like forever, it took me half a breath before I jerked my arm away, inhaling on my cigarette like it was going to disappear, watching the tobacco and paper flare and crinkle, turning to whitish gray ash.
"Don't touch me," I snapped at him, angry that he had that effect on me, and also angry from seeing his answering grin that he knew it. Calmly, he just tried another approach, this time reaching forward, but only with a finger outstretched, lightly running it across the knuckles of my right hand which I had fisted tightly on the surface of the table. I hoped like Hell he couldn't feel the jump of my pulse as my heart began to thump overtime in my chest.
"You know I care," was all he said as we looked at each other, transfixed. Scowling, I finished my cigarette and dropping it onto the floor, ground it out under the toe of my boot before draining my pint glass. Signaling the waitress, Spot held up two fingers and waited until she had cleared our empties before continuing to stroke my hand. Looking pointedly at the empties of Swagger and Emotions, I shot a glance at Spot.
"Why didn't you order for them?"
"Fuck 'em, they can talk," he grated out, his voice drier and raspier than normal. He had seemed to grow up overnight, his shoulders widening, Adams apple becoming more apparent. The waitress put their drinks down with a dull thunk and moved on, not seeming to hear my weak 'Thanks'. Gripping the glass as if it was a life preserver, I downed half of it in a few seconds and then wiped my mouth on my sleeve.
"Last I checked, you didn't seem to give two shits about what I did or who I did it with, so why don't you lay off," I snapped suddenly, feeling the anger inside of me rising from my guts up my neck and to my face, the rush of adrenaline hitting me as fast as I was sure the red flush of my skin had followed. Standing, I knocked back the rest of my pint, and muttering something about needing air, I grabbed jacket and cap, and went out the front door. The cold air stung me like a slap to the face as I raised my eyes upwards, looking for stars. Already the city seemed to have a slight haze over its skyline, as I knew well enough would deepen and get worse as the decades went on. Leaning up against the building, I lit up another cigarette and groaned as a hand cupped my shoulder.
"Listen Spot, I REALLY am not in the mood for this…" the words died on my lips as I swung around to face Swagger, who just smirked at me. I also really didn't want to deal with him either, I realized as he leaned up against the wall next to me, his shoulder touching mine. We stood there for a few moments not saying anything until I felt Swagger shift his weight and put his hand under my chin, turning my face towards his. His mouth came down hard on mine, so hard in fact that our teeth clicked together, and my lips went numb as he assaulted me with his kiss. Putting a hand on his chest, I pushed to no avail, making noises in my throat to show my distress.
Apparently that only urged him on, for he pinned me against the wall with his body and I struggled, feeling one of his icy hands worm it's way through my suddenly unbuttoned coat, and underneath the hem of my blouse, not stopping until he found one of my breasts. Rage surged through me as I fought against him with fists, nails, trying to ram my knees into his genitals, but nothing seemed to work. Crying in earnest this time, I felt the hot prick of tears against my cheeks as his hand slid down towards the buttons on the front of my trousers.
When he stopped kissing me to get some air, I tried biting him, but he avoided me easily, although his eyes shut down, becoming cold and unfeeling in the dim light. Shoving with all my might finally managed to dislodge him just enough that he abandoned his plans at the moment and I felt relief turn my knees to jelly as I tried to make my way back inside.
"Where are you going? You've been asking for this ever since I laid eyes on you." At Swagger's words, I stopped dead although every fiber of my being screamed at me to keep going. I heard snow crunch under my boots as I turned towards him and his suddenly arrogant, knowing sneer. Even knowing that the words he said were out of feeling rejected, and rang with false bravado, I didn't care.
"Asking for it? Asking for it? Is this what you call asking for it?" I shouted at him, striking out towards his face with my fist, but connecting with his ear hard enough to make him step back, shaking his head like a stunned bear. Then anger overtook him, and he had me up against the wall again, this time with my hands clasped over my head, me wriggling back and forth trying to get away.
Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for Swagger, Spot took that moment to come outside, his curious eyes gazing around and finally alighting on us where Swagger had me hidden in the shadows. Annoyance turned to raw fury on Spot's face as he ran over and with two hands hauled Swagger off of me, throwing him to the ground. Shaken, I began righting my disarrayed clothing as Spot turned towards me, his eyes asking me a silent question to which I nodded that yes, I was alright. Whatever Spot had seen there, it wasn't enough for as Swagger started to rise, Spot kicked him hard, on the side and then straddled him, rolling him over so that he was on his back, Spot kneeling over him, pounding his face in with such sheer tenacity that I wondered if he would ever stop.
Screaming for the others, it took Rooster, Emotions and me to pull Spot off Swagger. When we finally did, his shirt was saturated with blood although a quick once over showed that most of it was Swaggers. He was NOT going to be feeling well for awhile, I guessed as Spot hauled up partway by the collar of his shirt and literally growled at him.
"You come near my girl again and I'll fucking kill you, y'hear?" His words made my chest swell, and heart feel like it was floating inside my body as Rooster grabbed Swagger and threw him towards the street. Spot then and there banished him from the City saying that if he or any of his newsies saw him again he'd get a good beating.
"Now what do we do," I asked Spot timidly as he stalked towards me, walking on the balls of his feet, looking all the while like a cat stalking prey. Grabbing me by the elbow, he began steering me down the street, his face stormy, chin muscles firmly clenched, his eyes the blue-gray of the sea before it rained.
"Now you and I need to talk, cuz boy is this shit not going to happen anymore."