Chapter 4

Love

Love comes in all shapes and sizes. It's been described as a billion different things, reaching from one spectrum to another, but usually those descriptions have one thing in common – love is a struggle; it ain't easy. Love is a strong entity. You can try to be as ignorant as humanly possible about love, but love doesn't care if you acknowledge it or not – it will pester you until the day you finally open the door and invite it in. Love doesn't mind if you let it stay the night, or forever – as long as it's presence was recognized, love's done its job. Once the door is open, there's no turning back. Love is fickle, painful… Love is all-encompassing, love is rejection, anxiety, stubborn - love is… beautiful.

In the newsies' world, love usually came second to things like working and making sure there was enough food to eat, but that didn't mean many of them liked it that way. Love was a difficult thing for a child to grasp. Kids were thrown out on the streets at such an early age that the real meaning of love seemed to escape many individuals. Was it attainable? Could they really find love in the treacherous streets of the city? It was the ultimate silent question. It rested heavily upon the minds of the youngsters as they grew into strong and capable adults, but did they ask one another such a thing? Did they open themselves up to another soul, and ask if love was possible to attain? To some that meant opening up a wound and becoming vulnerable to any predator in reach. But some had the courage to open themselves up to such perils – some could feel love so strongly inside their beings that they felt they would burst if they didn't tell someone.

It was such a courage that Skittery, a Lower Manhattan newsie, possessed. He was the unlikely one of the bunch – no one had expected him to be open about anything, certainly not feelings, and especially not love. His mood swings bewildered some, and annoyed others, but he was one of them, and the newsies stood by his behavior, despite his grim look on life at times.

What they didn't know was that Skittery was completely different on the inside. He was a swelling bowl of emotions and passion. He really adored life and all it could offer him, even in his current status as a newsie, but because he owned such a compass of internal emotions, he never knew quite how to handle them all, and in turn he appeared standoffish and dismal. Confused of his feelings and thoughts, Skittery closed himself off to others, and while on the outside he remained pessimistic, on the inside, he was struggling to show the world he wasn't at all as he seemed.

Skittery searched for someone to help him deal with emotion. He hated being so reserved, when inside he was aching to express himself in ways besides cynicism and blighted hope. In his search he uncovered a rarity in a girl named Filly. In some ways, she was the exact opposite of him. While he continually searched within him for new paths and depths he never knew about, Filly hated to look inside herself. She relied on self-control and felt that any kind of self-evaluation could take that control away.

Instead, Filly concentrated most of her energy on Skittery. She let him rant and rave to her in the afternoons after they had finished selling papers, and she did her best to come up with answers to his myriad of questions. They were both pessimistic on the outside, Filly by nature, and Skittery by his imbalance of emotions, yet Skittery yearned to show Filly a world where optimism prevailed, and trust consumed betrayal, if he could only come to grips with his thoughts.

They'd only been dating for a few weeks, but it didn't take Skittery long to realize his feelings for Filly ran deeper than he had ever fathomed. His emotions began to run rampant, and he closed himself off to her. When Filly asked what was wrong, he would snap at her, his temper shortened by his anxiousness to tell her how he felt and his incapability to do so. He struggled to be open with Filly, but the thought that she might reject his feelings was too overwhelming. If he admitted to being in love with her, would Filly be able to look inside herself and find a similar love? Or would she in turn close off to him, afraid that she'd lose any self-control if she dared to get so close to him?

Today Skittery aimed to change the direction of their relationship. He had stayed up late last night, deciphering his thoughts under the stars, contemplating a course of action, then imagining how it might pan out in his head, and finally, Skittery was ready to take charge of this emotional swell.

The day planned out in his head, Skittery had already bought their papers, using the money he'd been saving to spring for Filly's stack as well. He stood at the gates of the distribution center, wiping his brow every once in awhile as he waited for the girls to arrive.

"Look, he's even waitin' for her," Midnight scowled, seeing Skittery leaning on the gate. "Ya've got him trained."

"Bloody hell, can't ya ever keep that trap of yers shut?" Filly snapped, having quite enough of Midnight for the day. Inwardly grinning, as Midnight merely glared in reply, Filly walked over to Skittery, leaving the other girls to get their papers.

"Mornin'," Skittery greeted, his face brightening at the sight of his girl.

"And good mornin' to you." Gesturing to the papers in his hand, Filly raised a brow at him. "Ya plannin' on sellin' all dose today? Dat's quite a load for one boy."

Skittery shook his head. "N-no, I bought yers too." He held out her normal amount, a lopsided grin spreading across his features.

Filly took the stack, hastily shoving it under an arm of her faded brown dress. "I don't need yer charity, ya know. I ain't had no trouble buyin' me own in da past."

"I-I know… I was… Well, can't ya let me do somethin' nice once in awhile?" he asked, his voice sounding strained. This wasn't how he wanted the day to go and he was growing more nervous by the minute.

"Yeah… alright," Filly sighed. She wasn't used to being treated this way. She was always afraid that perhaps people were only nice to her when they wanted something out of her, and unfortunately that feeling had just surfaced again. "Let's just get sellin'."

Wordlessly, the pair walked to their normal selling spot and began spouting headlines. Every so often, Skittery would glance at Filly and forget his work, his thoughts centered on what he would tell her today. Filly, in turn, was completely nervous by his actions. First he had bought her papers, and now he was staring at her – he wanted something.

Finally, Skittery gave up on his work and sat down, his palms sweating, and his breath shallow. He wasn't done selling papers, but his mind refused to let him work in peace until he had told Filly the truth.

"Givin' up already?" Filly asked as she walked over to the bench and tossed her remaining papers down beside his on the ground.

"No… no, it's just…" Inwardly cursing himself, Skittery reached for Filly's hands and brought her to sit beside him on the rusted park bench.

"Den what is it?" Filly asked impatiently. She'd been uneasy by his behavior all morning and figured now was the time when he'd ask something of her. She only wished to be somewhere else at this very moment, instead of being here with him, facing an issue he was going to bring up.

"I've been thinkin'…" he started, then chuckled nervously. "I mean, well ya know I'se always thinkin'… but I mean, really thinkin'… 'bout you and me." He paused for a moment, again trying to group his thoughts one last time. The day was so perfect, and he didn't want to waste it. The summer breeze whistled through the leaves of the park trees, and the branches lazily swayed back and forth. It seemed like nature was on his side, urging him on – now if only he could work up the nerve to tell her.

"What about you an' me?" Filly questioned as she fidgeted in her seat. She could feel herself begin to panic just by the look on Skittery's face.

Remembering his preparations the day before, Skittery hurried to continue, fighting off the force to give up. This was his moment and he was going to take it. Filly had to know how he felt, and why he had been acting so strange. Reaching out, Skittery gently clutched Filly's hands in his own, his thumbs running over her knuckles in an attempt to keep them both calm.

"Filly," he started as his eyes fixated on hers. "I don't even know where ta begin… I thought about dis for so long, and still I can't get it right," he sighed. "Over dis past month, ya've been dere for me, lettin' me talk for hours, offerin' advice. I ain't never trusted anyone wid me problems before, only you."

Her breathing shallow, Filly found herself utterly confused. What was he trying to get at? What was so important? If he wanted to thank me, he woulda said dat by now.

"I-I know I've been a pain dis week… I didn't mean to… I just couldn't… I couldn't tell ya dat I… I…" Squeezing his eyes shut, Skittery could hear the words being chanted in his mind. Slowly he opened them again, his eyes immediately gazing into her own. "What I'm tryin' to say is dat I love you."

The words being said, Skittery felt as if the world had suddenly slowed its pace. He could hear his heart beating within his head, and he knew it was impossible for time to stand still, but it seemed like it was. Filly wasn't moving - she wasn't saying anything, her body wasn't showing any signs of a reaction.

Then, his worst fears became reality. Her eyes became dark with anger, a sight Skittery had seen before. Much to his dismay, Filly withdrew her hands as if he was holding them near a hot flame. She pushed herself away, scooting to the other side of the bench – it was too much for her.

"I…I can't… No, I can't," she mumbled, shaking her head wildly as she stood. In utter failure, Skittery watched as Filly raced down the road, leaving him alone on the bench, the image of his perfect day forever banished from his dreams.

~~

"Filly! Filly what are ya doin' here? Ain't ya supposed ta be sellin' papes?" Bingles asked, sweeping the blonde hair from his face with large, coarse hands.

"I-I was," she replied, breathing heavily after her run downtown. "I've… I've finished for da day."

"It's only eleven! Den what brings ya down to these waters? I thought you'd be out with yer boy, struttin' him around somewhere." Bingels grabbed a seat on the wooden crate besides his younger sister, his face clouding over as he glanced over her features. "What's wrong?"

Catching her breath, Filly struggled with even divulging what had just happened. She felt tears well up in her hazy-green eyes and fought to keep them back. Bingles was one of the only people to see her cry, and even though she felt most comfortable around her brother, she still hated to cry in front of anyone.

Taking his sister into his arms, Bingles didn't know what to say. Her eyes showed him so much conflict and confusion, but what was she so upset about? "Filly, yer me only sibling. Ya know ya can trust me 'bout anythin'. What's wrong?" he whispered.

Holding onto him, Filly buried her head in his strong chest. Bingles was much taller than Filly and whenever she was encased in his arms, she felt so safe and secure. It wasn't until he stroked through her thick hair that she allowed herself to speak – feeling that safety net around her with him there. "I've messed things up… I've messed dem up so bad dat I can never go back… I can't see him again…"

"See who again?" Bingles asked, holding Filly closer.

"Skittery," she mumbled. "I can't ever face him again. He… he wasn't supposed to do that to me! He knows… he knows I can't handle that, and he did it anyway!" she yelled, her voice still muffled by Bingles' chest.

"What did he do that was so horrible?"

"He…" Shaking her head, Filly forced herself from Bingles chest, and looked up into his eyes. "He told me he loved me. How could he do such a thing?" she whispered, feeling as if somehow Skittery had hurt her by those words.

Sighing, Bingles ran a finger down her cheek and smiled. It was the first time Filly had come to him with such a dilemma, but Bingles knew eventually this day would come. It didn't surprise him that his sister ran from such an emotion, but he was prepared to show her that running wasn't always the answer. "Filly, ya remember dat goil named Ana, dat I used to hang around with?"

"Yeah… back home… I remember her."

"She was at beautiful as da sun, and as mysterious as da moon," Bingles thought wistfully. "I spent so much time wid her, runnin' around da farms, chasin' each other through hay stacks, tellin' each other what we wouldn't dare tell no one else… I knew I loved her. I knew I wanted ta spend da rest of me life wid her, and I would have. Mark me words, I would have… But life doesn't always let things happen so easily, and dat's when we had ta come here, to America. It don't change da fact dat I still love her, and I think about her everyday."

"But she was different… yer different… Any goil can trust ya. I know dat. If you said loved her, den you did, but maybe Skittery ain't like you," Filly reasoned.

"When he told you… when dose words came out of his mouth, did you see da look in his eyes aftah?"

Filly shook her head. "No… I was too… too shocked ta look at him."

"Den right before he told ya. Did you see 'em den?"

Thinking back, Filly nodded. "I s'pose I did."

"What was dat look in his eyes?"

Sighing, Filly thought this was a bunch of rubbish – a waste of time. But at the seriousness in Bingles' voice, she decided to continue the conversation. "He was pensive…"

"Close yer eyes and remember what he looked like… Go on," he insisted, smiling as she complied.

"He looked like he had somethin' so serious ta tell me. He looked scared too… but… like he was so sure he had to tell me. It was so hard to figure out what he was gonna say… He looked nervous, but at da same time… eager. Like…"

"Like he wanted to express somethin' to you dat he had never told anyone before… because it felt so right in his heart, and he wanted you to feel that too. He wanted you to feel that joy he had welled up inside him. I looked exactly like dat when I told Ana."

"And I ran from him…" Filly barely whispered.

"Go to him - explain to him why you ran. If he's half the man you've described ta me, he'll listen."

~~

Love, heh, who needs it? Right Spot? Love ain't nothin' but trouble, one Brooklyn boy insisted.

Chuckling, Spot patted his shoulder. Right, nothin' but trouble. Don't evah fall in love, it'll be yer death, he explained before wandering away from the docks by himself. Or da greatest thing ta happen in yer life, he whispered under his breath.

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