It was June, and the air was warm and sticky, which wasn't ideal; the humidity made Dash's hair all frizzy, and it always seemed to happen on a day when she wanted to make meringue.
This morning in particular, her eyes snapped open, bolting upright in her bed with a gasp. She had been having the most amazing dream, in which she was about to take a bite of the biggest, most beautiful lemon meringue pie she had ever seen. However, just as the fork reached her mouth, she woke up, returning to the sad reality where she did not have a mouth watering dessert in front of her. She smacked her lips, trying to recall what the pie had tasted like, but it was already gone. Tragic.
It was then that it dawned on her that she had the ingredients to bring that beautiful pie to life in the kitchen. In an instant, she rushed to her bedroom window. Maybe, if she was lucky, the weather would be on her side today. She pried open the window, a warm, thick breeze blowing against her skin. She groaned. No good; meringue wouldn't peak in the humidity. No matter how good at baking someone is, they're no match for mother nature. Pursing her lips, she pulled the latch shut, deciding to settle for banana bread muffins instead.
A couple of hours later, the muffins were nestled in her bag as she hopped off the trolley that crossed the Brooklyn Bridge.
"Thanks!" Dash chirped to the driver, exchanging waves with the man before she bounced away, not noticing the large, gray clouds looming on the horizon.
She clicked her tongue rhythmically as she walked, matching the beat to her steps and scanning the docks for her friend, Twitchy. The purpose of her trip had been to return a book he lent her, but he was nowhere to be seen.
A group of four other teenagers had gathered nearby at the edge of the docks, crouching in a large circle on the ground. Curious, she inched forward, craning her neck to see what was going on.
As she approached, she could see they were surrounding a long piece of brown string that was tied in a circle, surrounding a cluster of marbles.
Her heart skipped a beat. She was fantastic at marbles! She always kept her own pouch on her in case of a marble emergency, which happened more often than one might think.
Now that she was closer, Dash knew the kids to be Newsies like herself from her other visits to the borough. Among the group was a short, round faced girl with glasses and hundreds of freckles who Dash remembered was named Abigail. Her curly, brown hair was pulled back into two braids, her eyebrows knit with frustration as she gazed down at the ring. There was also a pale, skinny boy with sandy, blond hair and brown eyes that Dash didn't recognize, and a tall boy with broad shoulders and dark hair standing just behind Abigail and watching the game intently. The way he hovered over her, he seemed almost like a bodyguard. What was his name again? Something with a chuh sound…. Chuck? No. Chatter! That was it! She remembered now, she found it funny the first time she learned it because Chatter really didn't say very much at all. He was a friendly enough guy, but he seemed to like observing and listening more than he liked talking. He and Abigail seemed to always be around one another when Dash saw them, their significant height difference almost comical.
Finally, Dash's eyes rested on the figure closest to her with their back turned. Their brown cap was pulled down low on their face as they knelt on the ground, but she could recognize those bright red suspenders anywhere. He was at an angle where she could just see that was holding a red shooter in his hand, weaving it through his fingertips thoughtfully.
Dash's feelings toward Spot were… mixed; she could never stop herself from riling him up, and the two would often butt heads due to their wildly different personalities. Spot took himself so seriously, and for the life of her, she couldn't understand why. It frustrated her that he tried to make himself seem so high and mighty, and she knew the kids in Brooklyn respected him, but as far as she could tell, he was just… some guy. The way he constantly tried to have the attention of those around him was so silly, and just made him come off as a bit of a show off.
She hadn't seen him do anything particularly intimidating, but the Newsies back in Manhattan would often go on and on about how nervous he made them. She just failed to see any real reason for their apprehension. Then again, she really hadn't been living in New York all that long; his reputation had been around for a good while. Maybe they all knew something she didn't.
In any case, as far as she was concerned, he was just a kid who wanted attention. That was fine, of course, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to tease him. It was fun to challenge him, and she found herself getting extremely competitive in his presence. Of course he wasn't going to back down from a challenge.
Dash would come to Brooklyn every once in a while to exchange books with Twitchy, who she knew was pretty close with Spot. He never seemed to show any signs of being intimidated either, and was an even bigger culprit than she was when it came to pushing Spot's buttons. He would go to great lengths to make him look silly, like the time he filled Spot's pockets with bread crumbs and got the neighborhood pigeons to follow him around all day. There was also a time when he dressed up in the same clothes as Spot, and had bribed the other Brooklyn kids with candy to pretend that he was the real Spot for an entire day.
Dash watched as the boy she hadn't recognized leaned forward, closing one eye and taking a deep breath. He flicked his thumb, his yellow shooter zipping forward and smacking into another large, purple marble. Both marbles rolled over the string, coming to a rest on the other side. The boy whooped with delight, and Abigail let out a cry of astonishment.
"That was a cheap shot, Sonny!" Abigail crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring daggers at the boy. "You know I just got that marble yesterday!"
"It ain't my fault I got good aim!" Sonny grinned, shrugging and walking over to claim the purple shooter for himself. "Sorry, toots."
Dash thought Sonny didn't look all that sorry.
Abigail huffed, sitting back and crossing her legs.
"Fine, whatever. Your turn, Spot."
Spot, who had been silent the entire time, was already leaning down to shoot his own red marble. He extended his arm, appearing as still as a statue as he aimed the little glass ball toward the center.
At that moment, an idea popped into Dash's brain. Slowly, without making a sound, she crept up behind him, biting her lip to keep herself from giggling and giving herself away.
Finally, just as Spot started to release the shooter, Dash exclaimed "HI, SPOT!"
The boy let out a rather undignified yelp and his hand jerked, the marble rolling into the ring and bouncing gently on one of the mibs. It hardly budged, and Spot's shooter halted beside it. The other three Brooklyn newsies broke out into laughter, and Spot's shoulders tensed, turning his head slowly to glare up at Dash.
Dash just smiled, waving down at him.
"Didn't you hear me? I said hi."
Spot grunted and rose to his feet, his hazel eyes narrowing at Dash. Despite his intense stare, her expression remained unchanged.
"I heard ya, I heard ya." He grumbled, glancing her up and down. "You messed me up, y'know."
"Golly, did I do that?" she feigned surprise, her eyebrows raising. "Whoopsie daisies. Can I play?"
"We're in the middle of a game."
"Actually, it's just endin'!" Sonny chimed in from behind him with a smile. Spot glanced back and shot Sonny a look, who quickly clammed up.
"Aw, that's okay." Dash shrugged, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "It's no big deal, Spot's just afraid that I'll beat him at his own game." she looked back to Spot, and she swore she saw his eye twitch.
"No. I am not." He replied firmly.
"Are too."
"Am. Not."
"Are tooooo."
"NO, I am-" Spot's voice had grown higher pitched in the heat of the moment, but he quickly paused, giving a sideways glance at his Newsies who were all staring at them. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, his voice now sounding much lower than it had a moment ago.
"Fine." He said cooly. "Fine, you wanna play? We'll play. Clear the ring, Sonny."
In a matter of moments, the ring was reset, thirteen mibs resting in the center in a cross. Dash fished her sack of marbles out from her bag, a little blue pouch that her father had fashioned for her out of some spare fabric. She had about a dozen shooters she had collected over the years, but there was a very special one she wanted to use for this occasion.
She rummaged around in the pouch for a moment before pulling up a shooter that was minty green and blue with little white swirls. Sonny whistled, leaning in to look at it.
"That's real pretty." He mused. Dash beamed, tossing it up in the air once and catching it.
"Thanks! It's the first marble I ever won back when I was younger."
Abigail raised an eyebrow. "You sure ya wanna use that thing, then? Seems pretty special to be usin' in a game. Don't wanna end up like me and have it taken from ya." She glared pointedly at Sonny, who only grinned back at her innocently with large, doe like eyes.
Dash nodded. "Oh, yeah! This guy is my go-to shooter, he's real lucky!" She held it up proudly, admiring the way the colorful swirls glistened in the light. "I've never lost a match with him!"
Spot was also staring at the marble, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Huh. Oh, well, it's your funeral, girlie." He stretched his arms over his head, shifting his gaze back to her. "You better say your goodbyes now, 'cause that thing's gonna be in my pocket real soon."
Dash stuck out her tongue at him. She wasn't nervous; her lucky shooter had never failed her before, and this game would be no different.
The two knelt on opposite ends of the circle, and the others sat off to the side as spectators. Spot motioned his hand toward her.
"Ladies first."
Dash positioned herself in front of the ring with her shooter. Without any delay, she flung her marble forward, grinning at the satisfying clack it made as it smacked into one of the mibs, sending two of them rolling out of the ring. Dash whooped loudly, and Spot continued to watched in silence with a serious expression.
"Nice!" Abigail grinned.
Her shooter was still within the circle, which meant she was able to shoot her marble again from the inside the ring. She hummed, hopping to the other side and returning to her knees to the left of Spot. As she reached for her shooter, her shoulder briefly brushed against his. Spot jumped as if he had been shocked, scowling and moving a few inches to his right. Dash barely even noticed him, focused on finding the right angle to shoot her marble. She flicked it once more and the marble struck another mib, but it didn't have as much force as the first hit. It rolled a few inches and stopped just before reaching the edge.
Dash shrugged, flopping backward onto her behind. "Oh well. Your turn."
Spot nodded, adjusting his cap. Dash saw him glance over at the other kids for a fleeting second, then returned his gaze to the marbles. He cracked his knuckles loudly, which Dash found rather unnecessary, and flexed his hands at his sides. He scooped up his red shooter, assuming the position. His eyebrows knit together and he bit his lip.
This was ridiculous; the longer she waited for him to make his move, the more restless she felt. She drummed her hands on her lap as she waited. After what felt like centuries, she couldn't take it anymore.
"Can't you go any faster?" She huffed.
"I'm focusin'."
"Focus faster!" she urged.
Spot's jaw clenched, still not looking at Dash. He exhaled, finally releasing his marble. It hit two mibs at once, sending them flying out of the circle in opposite directions. Sonny cheered loudly and Abigail nodded with approval while Chatter clapped politely beside her. The marble stopped right where it hit its mark, meaning it was still in play.
Spot grinned, clearly pleased with himself as he turned his attention back to Dash. She clapped, nodding slowly.
"That was great, yeah! Hey, at this rate, maybe we'll have a winner by Thanksgiving!" she teased. Abigail let out a cough that Dash could have sworn was a laugh.
Spot's grin snapped back to a scowl, squinting hard at her. Dash smiled back. Sometimes it was just too easy.
Spot closed his eyes briefly, regaining his composure. When he opened his eyes again, the look in his eyes had changed.
"Oh, I ain't movin' fast enough for ya?" he asked, stretching out his arms and making a big show of moving into shooting position once more. Slowly, he leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. "That's no problem. I can go faster."
He set his eyes on Dash's lucky shooter, and before she could even process what was happening, he shot his red marble straight for it.
Dash's eyes widened in horror, and she gasped as the shooter crashed into her minty blue sphere, causing it to roll right out of the ring.
Her heart sank, realizing what he had just done. She looked up at him in dismay and was met with a smug smile.
"Oh, would ya look at that? Seems like ya lucky marble ain't so lucky no more." He snickered. "Oopsie daisies."
The other Brooklyn kids appeared stunned at what their leader had done, exchanging nervous glances with one another. Sure, he had joked about taking the marble, but it didn't seem like they thought he would actually take it.
"Spot…" Abigail started, but Spot ignored her, plucking the shooter from the ground and rolling it across his palm as he stood.
"You were right, Abby. She shoulda listened to your advice, don't'cha think?"
For a minute, Dash was speechless. Did that really just happen? Was he being serious right now?
Her shock quickly turned to rage. She rose and stormed up to him, lunging toward the marble.
"No! That's not fair, you can't-"
"What exactly ain't fair here?" Spot interrupted, snatching it away and holding her prized shooter high in the air. "I ain't no cheater, ask anyone here! I won this here marble fair and square!" He looked over at the others for confirmation, daring any of them to argue. "You all saw it, right? No rules broken, yeah?"
Reluctantly, the three nodded in agreement, which only fueled Dash's anger. She grunted and jumped toward his raised hand in an attempt to grab it, but he stepped back, barking out a laugh.
"Better luck next time, short stuff!"
Dash grunted, jumping up and down as she tried snatch her marble. "Oh, that's rich, coming from you! You're barely three inches taller than me at most!"
"Still, it's three inches you ain't got!" he snickered. "I'm playin' the game the way it's s'posed to be played! When ya shoot your opponent's marble outta the ring, you claim it! That's the rule!"
They danced around one another, Dash hopping up toward his hand and Spot pulling away at the very last second. Dash could feel her cheeks burning. She grit her teeth and let out a loud groan.
"Why are you being such a jerk?!" She exclaimed, taking another swing just as he jumped out of the way. "You only shot at my marble to be mean!"
"I'm the jerk?" He scoffed, side stepping when she tried to snatch it again. "You've been pickin' on me this whole time! "
"Was not!"
"Were too!"
"WAS NOT!"
"WERE TOO!"
"Hey, now," Chatter spoke up for the first time, stepping forward. His voice was deep and soft. "Maybe we should all calm down…"
But Dash didn't want to calm down. She was fuming, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. Logically, she knew she shouldn't be getting so worked up over a silly, little marble, but she couldn't control it; she was livid! How dare he take something from her that he knew was special to her! How dare he hold it over her head and taunt her with it! The way he smirked down at her made her stomach bubble with anger. She wasn't going to let him get away with this.
She lunged once more, but this time, she wasn't aiming at his hand.
She reached for his head, plucking off the brown cap from his head in one quick swipe and scurrying backward with a triumphant "HA!"
Spot blinked in surprise, his free hand instinctively moving toward his head. His caramel hair was now in disarray, falling in wisps across his face.
"Ha ha. Very funny, girlie, give it back."
"No."
"Seriously? Dash, c'mon."
Dash was already scooping up her bag of belongings and throwing it over her shoulder, a wild grin on her face. It was juvenile, sure, but it was the only thing she could think to do in the heat of the moment. She offered him a quick salute, then bolted from the scene of the crime, leaving a flabbergasted Spot behind her.
She was already halfway down the block before she heard an enraged bellow behind her:
"DAAAAASH!"
End of Part 1