DISCLAIMER: None of these characters belong to me, so please don't sue me
because I ain't even got five cents.
A Little Spunk
"So is youse excited about meetin' Spot tahday?" Jack asked the girl he was selling papers with as they strode down the main streets of Manhattan.
"Nah, not really. I'se hoid alotta talk about him. Seems like half the female population of New Yawk is in love wid the bum. But I knows his type. All charmful at foist, but then after they lure ya in, they's turn out tah be joiks."
Jack laughed. Spunks one was of the few newsgirls who had a negative view of Spot. Most girls practically threw their selves at Spot's feet. He had to admit that some of what Spunks had said though was true. The Brooklyn leader often used his flirtateous ways just to get what he wanted, but he was a good guy on top of all that and one of Jack's best friends.
"Ya know, ya don't hafta be all bitter if he tries tah make a move on youse. I mean, youse is just as floity as he is, ya both should get along extremely well."
Spunks glared at Jack. She didn't think she and Spot would get along at all. First off, she knew that his 'high and mighty' only liked girls who were absolutely gorgeous and had model-like figures. It's not that Spunks had a low self image of herself, but she accepted the fact that she was merely cute at 5'2" with straight black hair just past her shoulders and navy blue eyes that sparkled whenever she laughed. The patch of freckles on the apples of her cheeks and her long eye lashes did not help any, but she could care less. If appearances were all that attracted a guy, she didn't want anything to do with him.
"When is we'se goin tah Brooklyn, anyways?"
"As soon as ya finish sellin that last pape in yer hand."
Spunks cast a glance at the day's headlines and thought for a moment. Then, as she saw a group of adults about to pass by up ahead, she called out "murder mystery arouses suspicion at the mayor's office after death of family member!" The first man to come up to her bought the paper quickly and eagerly searched for the article. Spunks grabbed Jack's hand and the two ran off down an alley.
"A family member, ay?"
Spunks smiled. "Yea, their beloved dog choked on a bone. They's blamin the maid." They burst out laughing and headed to Brooklyn.
* * * * *
"Heya Jacky-Boy, how's it rollin?"
Spunks watched as a slim, young man jumped down from where he had been standing to spit-shake with Jack. His eyes were blue and depthless like the waters of an unending well and his sandy-blonde hair fell over them because of the cool wind that was blowing from the coming of winter.
"Spot, I'se want ya tah meet Spunks. She's been stayin wid us in Manhattan fer quite a while now and I thought it only proper tah introduce ya tah her."
Spot looked from Jack to the short girl who stood just feet away from him. He found her mildly attractive but not so much as to use one of his newly created pick-up lines on, so he simply smirked, grabbed her hand, and kissed it. "Hope youse enjoyin yer stay."
Spunks snatched her hand back and looked Spot up and down. "Ya know, the goils in Manhattan overestimate yer looks. I'se seen better." She threw him a devious grin and waited for a reply.
"Yer lucky youse wid Jack. Cuz if ya said that and we'se were alone, I would soak ya so bad that youse would wish we never met!"
"Too late, I already wish that!"
Spot was taken aback. No girl had ever given him this much backtalk, especially if he had never even given her something to mouth out about. He wondered what this girl's problem was. Had he insulted her unintentionally in some way? "Just watch yer back. We aint all happy-go-lucky like me boys in Manhattan. If ya give us a problem, we'll take care of ya in a heartbeat, sweety. And I shoah wouldn't want tah ruin that pretty face wid a black eye."
"I'd like tah see ya try, ya bastard!" Spunks had no idea why she was being so hostile with Spot. It was as if she was making sure they would be enemies. Why hadn't she simply smiled when he had kissed her hand and have a little, friendly conversation with him? As soon as those last words left her mouth, Spot came after her in an instant, the only thing stopping him from touching her was Jack's quick intrusion. Jack had to struggle to restrain the Brooklyn leader, who by now was shouting curses and threats at Spunks violently.
"Spot, just let it go," Jack insisted. "She doesn't know ya all that well so she's just talking from the rumors she hears. This aint the foist time ya had tah start friendships like this. Just let her believe what she wants and then let her see how ya really are."
The shorter youth fumed. "No one talks about me like that without the shit tah back it up. Youse better keep her away from me, Jacky. I wasn't playin when I said I'd soak her. Ya remember what happened tah Vipes." Spot pushed Jack away and combed his fingers through his hair in frustration. He started to walk away back to his original spot on the docks when he noticed a small crowd had gathered around. "Get back tah yer posts, ya bums! They aint nuthin tah see hear!" The newsies all obeyed immediately.
"Heya Spot, youse goin tah Medda's this Friday?" Jack called out as an afterthought.
Without turning around, Spot yelled back a "yes".
* * * * *
"Jesus, Spunks," Jack complained, "could you be any less cordial? Youse were actin as if Spot was an ex-boyfriend of yours who cheated on ya."
Spunks laughed softly. "Heya, what did he mean when he asked ya if youse remembered someone named Vipes?"
Jack sighed. "He wasn't askin if I remember. He knows I remember, everyone does. Vipes is what we used tah call Princess. It was actually Viper, on account that she was very strong-minded. She used tah have a big mouth and never knew how tah control it. One day, she got on Spot's nerves so bad that he snapped all of a sudden and turned on her.
Before I was able tah separate them, Spot struck her face three times, bruising her eye and bustin her cheek real bad. When I finally reached them, I threw him against the wall and asked him what his problem was. He said that he had had enough, that no one bad mouths Spot Conlon without reason. It was a whole year before they began talking again. That one moment had totally changed Viper's life. She became reclusive and only spoke when spoken too. All of a sudden, she was just so shy, but very sweet. We changed her name to Princess and now we barely see her because she moved to Upstate."
"Damn, Spot shoah has a bad temper! If I was that goil, I would've fought back and given him a few bruises of his own!"
"Youse better learn tah calm down, actually. Spot only has a problem wid youse if ya give him one. I don't see why ya had to put him in such a bad mood."
Later that day, Spunks was playing poker with Race and Blink while overhearing the girls talk about Friday's dance at Medda's. There was always one once a month and usually, everyone made a big deal out of it. Sugar was the most excited about the event, exclaiming that she would work up enough courage to talk to Spot Conlon sometime during the night. Spunks grimaced. What did all these girls see in that jerk?
Race caught her look and laughed. "Heya Spunky, Jack told us that ya told off Spot tahday on his own territory. Ya know how many guys are afraid of doing just that?"
"I don't see why. Spot is all talk, boys."
"That's where you're wrong, hun," Blink replied. "If Spot says he's gonna soak ya, he will do it. Once, he told this kid named Porter that he would indent his face. A year passed and he still hadn't laid a finger on the kid. Then a few days later, when Spot was walking through Manhattan, he saw Porter just ahead and he beat him up like there's was no tomorrow."
"Ya, I'm surprised Porter survived," Race thought aloud.
Spunks rolled her eyes. "Gimme a break! I'se aint afraid of Spot. As a matter of fact, the next time I'se see him, I'm gonna personally go up tah him and deliver a message." She clenched her hand to make a fist and grinned.
Just then, the door to the Manhattan Lodging House slammed open and in came Spot with an enraged look on his face. "Who the hell ratted out one of me newsies!?"
He stood there motionless, looking as if he were ready to kill someone.
"Whaddya talking about, Spot?" Crutchy called out from where he sat.
Spot walked closer to where all the newsies were gathered and looked each one into the eyes, searching for a hint that would give the betrayer away. "The bulls caught one of me boys tahday. His parents had been searchin for him for months now. He didn't want tah go back cuz they's were abusing him. Apparently, some scab from Manhattan gave the bulls a name and place though."
Race took the cigar out of his mouth. "Youse so shoah that scab is one of us. Maybe one of yer Brooklyn idiots did it."
Spot looked at him indifferently while everyone else gasped. "Ya know Race, maybe yer the one who gave the kid away. It's understandable. I mean, ya do so badly at the races that ya gotta make a livin somehow, right?" Race jumped to his feet, ready to fight.
"Ah, c'mon ya guys. I'se was just in the middle of winnin this damn poker game. Don't make me kick both of yer asses just so that we'se can get back to our own melodramas."
Spot was actually amused by the words and wanted to see who the speaker was. He looked to his side at someone who was hiding behind their poker cards. He stepped forward and brought the cards down with his hand.
"Youse!"
Spunks smiled. "Nice tah see ya too! Did ya miss me so much that ya had tah come all the way tah me place just tah see me? Aww, I'se really flattered, Spotty! Now how about youse go on back tah yer borough before ya really piss me off?"
Spot arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me? Who do ya think youse is?"
"I asked ever so nicely too!" the girl sighed. "I guess ya just had it comin." She gave him one of her flirtateous smiles and an instant later, her fist smacked into the side of his head. He stepped back from the impact and tripped over himself, falling to the floor. Spunks was the only one laughing at this point, even Race thought she had gone too far.
Spot arose slowly, his eye already turning from red to a darker shade. He grabbed the girl's wrist before anyone knew what was going on, and yanked her closer to him. When their faces were less than an inch away from each other, he whispered to her menacingly. "Youse obviously don't know who yer messin wid. Maybe a stay in Brooklyn will help tah tame yer wild nature. If not, I know a few other remedies I learned from street gangs." She tried to break free from his grasp, but he wouldn't let her go.
"What the hell is goin on in heah!?" It was Jack. He had just returned from a date with Sarah. The first thing that caught his attention was Spot and Spunks standing in the middle of the room. Obviously, a confrontation had just taken place between the two rivalries.
"She's a friggin pistol, Jack and I'se tired of it. I can only give her so many warnings. I can only think of one way to change her bad attitude. I want her tah stay in Brooklyn wid me fer at least a month. I'se shoah we'll be able tah break her."
Spunks finally managed to squirm out of Spot's grip. "There aint no way in hell I'se goin tah live wid you and yer little minions! I'd sooner plunge a knife through me head!"
Jack looked at them both. "Actually…"
Spunks shot him a look. "Yer not considerin it, are ya Jack!? Youse can't be serious! I hate ya! I'd rather live on the streets er in a whore house! Spot is the most egocentric monster I'se ever known." She turned on her heels to run up the stairs to the girls' bunkroom, but Spot tripped her and she fell onto his feet. He reached down and pulled her up onto her feet.
"Listen Spunks," Jack said. "Spot's right about yer attitude. Youse getting a bit rowdy and self-assured. Now I don't want any riots tah start breakin out between me own newsies, because I knows a lot of them admire yer free spirit. Ya gotta learn tah calm down and control yer temper."
"And ya think Spot can teach her that?" someone called out. Jack did not appreciate the comment in all the tension that engulfed the room presently and he clearly showed it in his expression. "Anyways," he continued, "I'se gonna let Spot take ya tah Brooklyn. Only under the condition that he treats ya wid respect and doesn't abuse his leadership powers. I'll come check up on ya every other day, and after a month, I'll go and take ya back home. Now that doesn't sound so bad, right?"
Spunks glared at him. "Nah, hell doesn't seem so bad at foist."
* * * * *
The entire walk to Brooklyn, Spot and Spunks had not spoken a single word. Spot, because he had nothing to say as of yet, and Spunks because she was still too embarrassed to swallow her pride. When they reached the Brooklyn Lodging House, Spot was courteous enough to open the front door and let Spunks enter first, yet she hadn't uttered a word of thanks. He let her choose which bed in the girls' bunkroom she wanted, there were at least ten available, and then retired into his own room. But sleep would not come to him that night.
He tossed and turned in his bed, his conscious eating him away. For some reason, he felt bad about the way he was treating the girl. He had taken her away from the only friends she knew and had brought her to a place far away from her security border. "Oh god, Spot. Don't start feelin sorry. She deserves what she's getting and ya know that!" He had to repeat that to himself five times before he rest finally found him.
* * * * *
"Rise and shine, sweety! In this part of New Yawk, we'se get up an hour earlier on account that we woik fer a different chain of papes."
Spunks woke with a start and opened her wary eyes to find herself looking at Spot. She moaned in disgust, and lay back down. "Go away. I never said I would sell yer lousy papes."
Spot picked up the mattress and raised it so that she fell off.
"SPOT!!!, leave me alone!"
"Rule # 1," Spot began. "Ya always sell papes cuz that's the way we'se make a livin. If ya aint got the money tah pay for lodging, then youse can't stay heah. Understood?"
"Go tah hell," Spunks retorted. But nonetheless, she got up to her feet and made her way to the washroom. All of the newsgirls were already dressed and heading out the door so she assumed it was the same with the boys. And that only meant one thing. "Youse aint sellin wid me tahday, are ya Spot?"
"Of coise I am! What better way to teach ya a few more lessons!"
* * * * *
"I'se already a good newsie," Spunks argued. "I don't need yer friggin help."
Spot laughed. At least he and the girl were on talking terms now. It would be easier to find out what bothered her so if they were engaged in conversation. It was still morning when they both had finished selling their papers and so Spot took the girl to the docks where they could overlook the dark blue waters.
"Ya knows how tah use a slingshot?"
"Of coise I do. Whaddya take me fer, an idiot?" She uncrossed her arms when he handed her one of the weapons the Brooklyn newsies were infamous for. She looked at it and then held her hand out for a shooter. Spot gave her a shiny red marble and smiled. Spunks turned away from him momentarily as she tried to situate the marble on the slingshot's launcher. When she had done that, she chose one of the windowpanes of an abandoned factory nearby as a target. She pulled the launcher back and released. The marble fell at her feet.
Spot burst out laughing. "Wow, Spunky, youse shoah got some master skills there. Maybe youse can teach me someday how tah shoot wid stupidity like that!"
"Ah, shaddup, ya bum," she snapped.
"Heah," Spot said, "lemme show ya sumthin." He took his slingshot back and positioned another marble on the launcher properly. Then with ease, he suavely pulled the shooter back, released it, and watched it soar towards the window Spunks had tried to shoot earlier. The shattering glass was like music to his ears and he beamed with pride.
Spunks rolled her eyes, but looked at him with what could have been a smile. "Show-off," she muttered.
"I'se could teach ya. It'd be fun." He froze, realizing what he had just said. He noticed that Spunks looked at him weirdly as well. They both knew this rendezvous was not supposed to be enjoyable, yet Spot had just insisted that they take part in a 'fun' activity. "I mean….well, as a newsie…uhm, it's of the absolute necessity that youse know how tah use one of these things."
"Shoah, whatever," Spunks replied. "I'se just can't wait 'til a month is up. Oh, and by the way, don't ya ever calls me Spunky again er I'll give ya two black eyes before youse can say 'Spot Conlon is a Dog'!"
Spot shook his head. Where did that come from!? "Aww, but Spunky is such a cute nickname fer youse." He glanced at her to see her reaction and was relieved that she was at least smiling now.
"In that case, how 'bout I'se call ya Spotty! I bet ya wouldn't like that one bit. I mean, if woid got out that his high and mighty was letting someone call him that, people would actually start thinking youse were all mushy deep down inside. We wouldn't want tah be spreadin rumors now, would we?"
"I get the impression that youse think I'm some kinda joik without a care in the woild fer anyone." They had been walking around the docks and now came onto a railing which kept newsies from falling into the waters ten feet below, even though most of them jumped into it from greater heights.
Spunks leaned onto this railing. "Listen boy, I knows yer type. Fast- paced, always get what ya want. And then after ya do, ya move on at an even quicker pace. Youse only have feelins fer a goil when ya got her on her back and as soon as she gives herself away tah youse, ya say yer goodbye's and find other fresh meat."
Spot arched his eyebrows in disgust. Who ever had been telling Spunks this was sure in for the soaking of their life. Spot had never even slept with a girl, not because he couldn't get any, but because he believed in waiting for the right one. It was true that he had had many girlfriends though, but he never broke up with any of them for 'fresher meat'. On the contrary, Spot was quite the gentleman. He despised girls who played their boyfriends and cheated on them behind their backs and it appalled him that guys could brag about how good 'last night' was.
"How do ya know me type if youse aint even ever talked tah me fer at least an hour? Youse judging me by what others say? Listen, lots of goils are heartbroken out there cuz I can't go out wid them all and alotta guys are jealous that they's aint got as much charm as me. Is it my problem that I'se can't please everybody?"
"There it is right there," Spunks exclaimed. "Yer so full of yerself. Ya think youse is the most perfect guy on earth!"
"Ah, c'mon, at least one of the most perfect! But it's not a sin tah be content wid yer looks. I'll make ya a deal. I'll try not tah be conceited fer a day and youse can try and treat me as sweetly as yer personality permits the whole while. How 'bout it?"
Spunks thought it over. It was becoming tiring to insult Spot so much when she did not even know him that well. Maybe he was a pretty cool guy afterall. She could give him a chance, she decided, and perhaps they could become friends. She scratched her head. Friendship seemed unlikely as the moment. But second chances didn't.
"Youse got yerself a deal, Conlon!"
* * * * *
It was Friday night and newsies from all over New York were filtering into Irving Hall for Medda's monthly party. Jack, Race, Davey, Mush, and Blink sat at a round table near the stage, surveying the young ladies who walked in, though Jack was not participating as much as he used to due to the fact that he was with Sarah.
"Heya," Race said, "I wonder how Spunks is getting along wid Spot. Do ya think they's will be comin tahnight?"
"Youse kiddin me! Spot never misses a chance tah win at a game of poker." Jack scanned the room for a second time, looking for his best friend.
"Or a chance tah take a goil home wid him," Blink joked. Race and Mush joined in the laughter until a pretty girl caught their attention. Without a word, they jumped to their feet and headed over to where she was shyly standing.
Davey shook his head. "They act like they have never seen a girl before!"
"Heya, look! There's Spot! I told youse he'd come." Jack smiled widely as Spot approached the group of friends. After they all spit-shook, Jack noticed Spunks standing behind. "Spunks! How's it been rollin?!" He threw his arms around her and gave her a big hug which she returned happily.
"Not too bad, Jack." In her tight red dress with a slit on one side going up past mid-thigh, she looked astoundingly beautiful. Her hair was tied back in a simple bun with only two curly strands of it hanging on either side of her face. She marched up to Race and sat on his lap in an alluring manner, taking the cigar out of his mouth and bumming a short puff of it.
Spot felt the little hairs on his neck prickle in jealousy.
Race caught sight of the tension clearly expressed in the Brooklyn leader's face and smiled. He was enjoying every minute of this. If he could not beat Spot at fighting or selling papers or cursing out scabs, he could at least beat him in winning Spunks.
"Spunks," the Italian newsie whispered. "Why don't we'se go somewhere a little bit more private?"
Spunks brought her face closer to him and tempted him even more with her soothing voice. "Youse not a fan of public displays of affection?" And before receiving an answer, she began to kiss Race hard and long.
Jack looked at Spot who seemed to be distressed. "Ah, don't worry about them. They's used tah go out back in the day, but now they's just friends wid benefits."
Spot shrugged it off when he saw one of his ex-girlfriends heading his way. Jenna. With her long locks of golden hair and eyes green as the sea, she was one of the most beautiful girls in New York. Spot had broken up with her because in truth, he felt she deserved someone who could always be at her side to protect her from roaming goons, and as leader as Brooklyn, he could not be constantly worrying about whether his girl was safe at home. However, she was constantly trying to get back with him. Spot was the only guy who had ever cared about her so much to let her go.
"Hey hunny," Jenna called out excitedly. She leaned over and planted a kiss on Spot's cheek. He smirked and pulled her onto his lap.
"Heya goigeous, I haven't seen youse in a few weeks? Whatchya been up tah?"
"Aww, were ya worried about me?" He nodded and she gave him another kiss on the cheek. By this time, Spunks and Race had finished making out and it was now Spunks' turn to be jealous. Seeing how flirty Spot was made her wonder why she had never tried to make a move on him before.
"Oh, Spot, yer such a cutie!"
Spunks groaned. Jenna was the kind of girl she hated with all her might. The kind of girl who was endlessly peppy and clueless at the same time. The kind of girl who would always fall prey to fancy pickup lines and shallow promises.
"Youse get yerself a new boyfriend yet?"
Jenna looked at Spot surprised. "Well…no. I'se still kinda hoping we'se can get back together. I mean, what we had, it was so special! It hurts whenever I think about the day we broke up." She frowned innocently and looked as if she were about to cry.
"Puke! Gimme a break," Spunks declared. "Jesus, goil, youse is actin like yer gonna die if ya don't get back wid Spot! He aint the only guy in New Yawk, ya know. As a mattah of fact, I can name fifty guys from the top of my head far superior. Besides, it's obvious why Spot even got wid youse in the foist place. Do ya think he wants ya all ovah him fer nuthin? Sorry sweetheart, wid a body like that, I'd be surprised if Spot hasn't taken ya tah bed yet."
Spot's eyes widened as Jenna inhaled a large gasp. Embarrassed, the blonde girl quickly rose to her feet and ran out of Irving Hall with her face in her hands. Spot sat motionless in his chair. What had just happened and where did Spunks get the idea that she could just put in her two cents whenever she wanted?
"Yer such a bitch!" he yelled at her. "Ya think ya know everything. For yer information, Jenna's personality is what interested me enough to go out with her. But ya never consider that. Tah youse, I'se just some lousy street rat whose tryin tah get laid. Why don't ya mind yer own business fer once!" He slammed his fists on the table and then stormed out of Irving Hall to apologize to Jenna for Spunk's unkind words. The entire room was silent and all eyes fell onto Spunks.
"Ah, he's so damn dramatic," she muttered and then she too walked out of the building leaving the rest of the newsies behind to wonder what was going on between Spot and Spunks.
* * * * *
Spot sat up in bed that night reflecting upon the day's events. It had started out with him and Spunks seeming to have worked things out somewhat perfectly. They were getting along quite alright and had settled their differences for the moment. What had made her go off like that at Jenna? It couldn't possibly be jealousy! She had been busy making out with her own friend; why would she get mad at Spot for doing the same?
Spot ran his fingers through his hair. Something was indeed bothering Spunks. She had agreed to not judge Spot any more, why would she abandon that promise? Maybe she had heard another rumor, or worse, had fallen prey to assumption.
"Gosh, that goil is gonna drive youse crazy, Conlon," Spot told himself. "Maybe ya should just ferget about this training crap and give her back tah Manhattan. Lord knows that's all she probably wants." The Brooklyn leader decided that was what he was going to do first thing tomorrow.
* * * * *
Spunks lay in her bed crying into her pillow. What was the matter with her? Did she take pleasure in making Spot Conlon feel inferior? She raised her head and wiped away the tears that streaked her smooth cheeks. She did not like being this way; being incredibly bitter.
"Youse could just stop then," she told herself, "and start being the way youse really is. Ya never had a problem like this before." She sighed. She would have to swallow her pride in order to do what she intended. She was going to apologize to Spot and ask if they could start over again.
* * * * *
"Mornin, Spot," a young voice greeted his leader. "Youse twenty minutes late. Ya feelin alright?"
Spot opened his eyes to find his messenger newsie, Runner, staring down at him with curious eyes. "Yea, I'se feelin great. But I wanna sleep in tahday. I'll see youse latah at Tibby's, alright?" The little boy nodded with a grin and then sped off to catch up with the others at the distribution center. Spot slept ten more minutes before he rose from bed and freshened up in the washroom. He knew Spunks was still in the lodging house; she wouldn't dare wait any longer than she had to before facing him.
Spot put on a white undershirt and then a green plaid shirt that was still too large for him, but he liked the extra room. He wore his grey pants today and slid his red suspenders on in a hurry. After shoving his slingshot in his back pocket and sliding his cane through one of his belt loops, he looked into the mirror that hung from the back of his door. Spot was the only newsie in New York who had his own room. Most of the other leaders thought it silly to be separated from their boys, but Spot believed in privacy. He combed the tangles out of his wet hair with a comb and then threw one last look at his reflection before heading up to the girls' bunkroom.
When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Spunks sitting on the nearest bed to the doorway, already dressed and ready to go. Her arms were crossed and she looked at him monotonously. "Bout time, Spotty." She got to her feet and crossed the room over to him. He would not move out of the doorway. "Youse planning on sellin papes, cuz we aint got all day, ya know."
"Listen, youse are really givin me a hard time. Yer practically ruining me life. I know ya hate me and all of Brooklyn, so I'se gonna wave the white flag now. I give up. I'se takin ya back tah Manhattan as soon as yer bags are packed. Then we never hafta talk tah each other after that."
Spunks looked hurt. "Please Spot, gimme another chance. I'se sorry about last night and I'se sorry about givin ya such a hard time! I really think we'se can woik this out though. I mean, don't give up so early in the game!"
"How many chances do ya want me tah-"Spot was cut short when Spunks wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned in, and kissed him hard on the lips. When she pulled away, she looked into his eyes for a response. "Where the hell did that come from?! One day youse callin me a bastard and then another day, youse all ovah me." He smirked, his cheeks getting hot. "Not that I don't appreciate this new change in attitude." He placed his hands around her waist and pulled her closer to him.
"I think I knows why I was bein such a bitch tah youse. Ya see, I'se used tah feelin nuthin fer the guys I floit wid. But when I met youse, I felt sumthin and I was scared because I didn't want ya tah take advantage of me, like I know alotta guys would have. So instead, I tried to get rid of the feelin by expressin all my anger onto youse. Of coise, it didn't woik. As a matter of fact, I think I'se in love wid youse."
Spot's smirk grew cockier. This was the last thing he had expected to come out from Spunks' mouth. She loved him! And deep down inside, he knew he felt the same way too. The jealousy, the worrying about how she felt. It all made perfect sense. And now that they had finally confessed to each other, the pains that had found refuge in his heart suddenly subsided. "Ya, I love ya too," he said before kissing her again.
This kiss was more passionate. Spot found himself wanting more and more of the girl. He let his tongue venture out of his mouth and explored the delicacy of her lips. She held him tighter now and encouraged him to go on. Still holding her around the waist, he walked over to the nearest bed where he gently lay her down. He remained standing to unbutton his shirt and pants, but being as nervous as he was, his fingers were shaking too much to achieve the task. Spunks groaned and sat up in the bed. She yanked him down onto the bed beside her and practically ripped off his clothes. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Once his clothes were off, Spot helped Spunks do away with hers, though she did not need much help. Finally, they lay naked in the bed, ready to give their selves away to each other.
At first, Spot kept the pace slow and steady but it wasn't long before he built it up and was slamming into his new found lover with feverish passion. With each thrust, Spunks moaned out with pleasure, urging him to go deeper. As Spot began pumping harder, Spunks felt the onset of an orgasm approaching. Her body was laced in beads of sweat as was Spot's. She tightened her legs around him and pulled him closer to her with the utmost desire. Then the spasm came and she found herself screaming his name out. He was glad that he was able to pleasure her and was just as glad that he was getting the same pleasure. His groins sparked with a new feeling he had never felt before but had always longed for. It shocked his entire body rigorously and he too began to yell out Spunks' name. When the orgasm had passed, both of them were speechless. Neither had ever experienced something so precious- at least not this precious.
A few minutes later, their restless bodies were at it again, but this time, Spunks straddled Spot. They kept rustling about on the bed, fighting for the top. Spot could not keep his lips off of Spunks. He found it necessary to explore every inch of her with wild abandon. The second orgasm was even better than the first and they screamed all the louder. Afterwards, they let there bodies rest.
Spot sighed. "I have waited all me life tah share that wid someone I truly loved."
"Oh really?" Spunks asked nonchalantly. "Well, it aint me foist time but I hafta admit, it was better than what I'se used tah."
"Wait," Spot interrupted, "whaddya mean it aint yer foist time?"
"Well, I wasn't a virgin before tahday. I'se slept around before. Lust is a beautiful thing, sweety. And besides, practice makes perfect. I gave ya what youse wanted, right?"
"Yea, but, what we just shared is sumthin very special. And yer meanin tah tell me you've shared it wid other guys?" Spot was both shocked and angered at the same time. How could she not care as much about this as he did? This wasn't just to indulge in sexual pleasures. He had done it because he loved her!
Spunks rolled her eyes. "Don't make such a big deal out of it, Spotty. Just picture us as friends wid benefits." She rolled off the bed and began dressing herself.
"Friends?"
"Well, what did ya think we'se were?" Spunks asked. She laughed but then got serious. "Oh no….youse thought I really loved ya? Oh my god, is yer self esteem that low? Do ya actually think I meant those words when I said them?" She laughed again, this time maliciously. "Spotty, I only said them to get ya where I wanted ya. Imagine how popular I'se gonna be now when everyone finds out that I'se got Spot Conlon on his back!"
Spot thought he was going to pass out at that very moment. It was all a lie, all a trick. Had she been planning to do this all along? Had someone he loved truly rejected him? How could this be? He was a good guy who never hurt anyone. What did he do to deserve this?
When Spunks had put her last piece of attire on, she casually walked over to Spot and kissed him deeply. Spot pulled away, tears forming in his eyes.
Spunks laughed again. "Thanks fer the ride, hunny." Then she marched out of the room with her head held high, not once looking back. She held character until she was out of the lodging house for good. Then she broke down into sobs.
"You idiot!" she screamed. "What have you done? You are a monster! Did you see the look on his face when you made him think you didn't love him?" Spunks fell to her knees and wept like a baby. How could she have the audacity to hurt someone in the most painful way? What was she turning into? She looked up to the windows of the girls' bunkroom. Inside, Spot was probably crying his heart out, all because of her. And the worse part was that she couldn't exactly go back inside and apologize to him. He would never forgive her and it would be impossible to get him to understand.
She sat outside the lodging house sulking. She believed she finally had reached a conclusion about why she was acting so demonically. It was indeed because she loved Spot so much. But she was afraid of that fact. And she was afraid she would not be good enough for him. That did not justify her actions, she knew that, but it would help her to evaluate herself.
Half an hour later, Spunks finally gathered up enough strength to start the long walk back to Manhattan. She shed one last tear for Spot before pulling herself together.
* * * * *
Spot threw his cane across the room and yelled at the moment it shattered a window pane. He was so infuriated. He couldn't even remember being this mad. Was it even possible for a human heart to be so cold and cruel? Tears fell freely down his pouty cheeks, and he cried out in sobs. He had given himself away! And it turned out that the girl he loved did not even return that love! It tore him apart inside. He felt like crawling under a bed and dying in a huddled ball.
Such sacrifices, and only to be hurt so badly!
He slammed his fist into the wall and did not even flinch at the new pain. He did not care. A ton of bricks could fall on him this very moment and he wouldn't care. Love had hurt him, and that was the worse pain anyone could ever endure.
To be continued…..
A Little Spunk
"So is youse excited about meetin' Spot tahday?" Jack asked the girl he was selling papers with as they strode down the main streets of Manhattan.
"Nah, not really. I'se hoid alotta talk about him. Seems like half the female population of New Yawk is in love wid the bum. But I knows his type. All charmful at foist, but then after they lure ya in, they's turn out tah be joiks."
Jack laughed. Spunks one was of the few newsgirls who had a negative view of Spot. Most girls practically threw their selves at Spot's feet. He had to admit that some of what Spunks had said though was true. The Brooklyn leader often used his flirtateous ways just to get what he wanted, but he was a good guy on top of all that and one of Jack's best friends.
"Ya know, ya don't hafta be all bitter if he tries tah make a move on youse. I mean, youse is just as floity as he is, ya both should get along extremely well."
Spunks glared at Jack. She didn't think she and Spot would get along at all. First off, she knew that his 'high and mighty' only liked girls who were absolutely gorgeous and had model-like figures. It's not that Spunks had a low self image of herself, but she accepted the fact that she was merely cute at 5'2" with straight black hair just past her shoulders and navy blue eyes that sparkled whenever she laughed. The patch of freckles on the apples of her cheeks and her long eye lashes did not help any, but she could care less. If appearances were all that attracted a guy, she didn't want anything to do with him.
"When is we'se goin tah Brooklyn, anyways?"
"As soon as ya finish sellin that last pape in yer hand."
Spunks cast a glance at the day's headlines and thought for a moment. Then, as she saw a group of adults about to pass by up ahead, she called out "murder mystery arouses suspicion at the mayor's office after death of family member!" The first man to come up to her bought the paper quickly and eagerly searched for the article. Spunks grabbed Jack's hand and the two ran off down an alley.
"A family member, ay?"
Spunks smiled. "Yea, their beloved dog choked on a bone. They's blamin the maid." They burst out laughing and headed to Brooklyn.
* * * * *
"Heya Jacky-Boy, how's it rollin?"
Spunks watched as a slim, young man jumped down from where he had been standing to spit-shake with Jack. His eyes were blue and depthless like the waters of an unending well and his sandy-blonde hair fell over them because of the cool wind that was blowing from the coming of winter.
"Spot, I'se want ya tah meet Spunks. She's been stayin wid us in Manhattan fer quite a while now and I thought it only proper tah introduce ya tah her."
Spot looked from Jack to the short girl who stood just feet away from him. He found her mildly attractive but not so much as to use one of his newly created pick-up lines on, so he simply smirked, grabbed her hand, and kissed it. "Hope youse enjoyin yer stay."
Spunks snatched her hand back and looked Spot up and down. "Ya know, the goils in Manhattan overestimate yer looks. I'se seen better." She threw him a devious grin and waited for a reply.
"Yer lucky youse wid Jack. Cuz if ya said that and we'se were alone, I would soak ya so bad that youse would wish we never met!"
"Too late, I already wish that!"
Spot was taken aback. No girl had ever given him this much backtalk, especially if he had never even given her something to mouth out about. He wondered what this girl's problem was. Had he insulted her unintentionally in some way? "Just watch yer back. We aint all happy-go-lucky like me boys in Manhattan. If ya give us a problem, we'll take care of ya in a heartbeat, sweety. And I shoah wouldn't want tah ruin that pretty face wid a black eye."
"I'd like tah see ya try, ya bastard!" Spunks had no idea why she was being so hostile with Spot. It was as if she was making sure they would be enemies. Why hadn't she simply smiled when he had kissed her hand and have a little, friendly conversation with him? As soon as those last words left her mouth, Spot came after her in an instant, the only thing stopping him from touching her was Jack's quick intrusion. Jack had to struggle to restrain the Brooklyn leader, who by now was shouting curses and threats at Spunks violently.
"Spot, just let it go," Jack insisted. "She doesn't know ya all that well so she's just talking from the rumors she hears. This aint the foist time ya had tah start friendships like this. Just let her believe what she wants and then let her see how ya really are."
The shorter youth fumed. "No one talks about me like that without the shit tah back it up. Youse better keep her away from me, Jacky. I wasn't playin when I said I'd soak her. Ya remember what happened tah Vipes." Spot pushed Jack away and combed his fingers through his hair in frustration. He started to walk away back to his original spot on the docks when he noticed a small crowd had gathered around. "Get back tah yer posts, ya bums! They aint nuthin tah see hear!" The newsies all obeyed immediately.
"Heya Spot, youse goin tah Medda's this Friday?" Jack called out as an afterthought.
Without turning around, Spot yelled back a "yes".
* * * * *
"Jesus, Spunks," Jack complained, "could you be any less cordial? Youse were actin as if Spot was an ex-boyfriend of yours who cheated on ya."
Spunks laughed softly. "Heya, what did he mean when he asked ya if youse remembered someone named Vipes?"
Jack sighed. "He wasn't askin if I remember. He knows I remember, everyone does. Vipes is what we used tah call Princess. It was actually Viper, on account that she was very strong-minded. She used tah have a big mouth and never knew how tah control it. One day, she got on Spot's nerves so bad that he snapped all of a sudden and turned on her.
Before I was able tah separate them, Spot struck her face three times, bruising her eye and bustin her cheek real bad. When I finally reached them, I threw him against the wall and asked him what his problem was. He said that he had had enough, that no one bad mouths Spot Conlon without reason. It was a whole year before they began talking again. That one moment had totally changed Viper's life. She became reclusive and only spoke when spoken too. All of a sudden, she was just so shy, but very sweet. We changed her name to Princess and now we barely see her because she moved to Upstate."
"Damn, Spot shoah has a bad temper! If I was that goil, I would've fought back and given him a few bruises of his own!"
"Youse better learn tah calm down, actually. Spot only has a problem wid youse if ya give him one. I don't see why ya had to put him in such a bad mood."
Later that day, Spunks was playing poker with Race and Blink while overhearing the girls talk about Friday's dance at Medda's. There was always one once a month and usually, everyone made a big deal out of it. Sugar was the most excited about the event, exclaiming that she would work up enough courage to talk to Spot Conlon sometime during the night. Spunks grimaced. What did all these girls see in that jerk?
Race caught her look and laughed. "Heya Spunky, Jack told us that ya told off Spot tahday on his own territory. Ya know how many guys are afraid of doing just that?"
"I don't see why. Spot is all talk, boys."
"That's where you're wrong, hun," Blink replied. "If Spot says he's gonna soak ya, he will do it. Once, he told this kid named Porter that he would indent his face. A year passed and he still hadn't laid a finger on the kid. Then a few days later, when Spot was walking through Manhattan, he saw Porter just ahead and he beat him up like there's was no tomorrow."
"Ya, I'm surprised Porter survived," Race thought aloud.
Spunks rolled her eyes. "Gimme a break! I'se aint afraid of Spot. As a matter of fact, the next time I'se see him, I'm gonna personally go up tah him and deliver a message." She clenched her hand to make a fist and grinned.
Just then, the door to the Manhattan Lodging House slammed open and in came Spot with an enraged look on his face. "Who the hell ratted out one of me newsies!?"
He stood there motionless, looking as if he were ready to kill someone.
"Whaddya talking about, Spot?" Crutchy called out from where he sat.
Spot walked closer to where all the newsies were gathered and looked each one into the eyes, searching for a hint that would give the betrayer away. "The bulls caught one of me boys tahday. His parents had been searchin for him for months now. He didn't want tah go back cuz they's were abusing him. Apparently, some scab from Manhattan gave the bulls a name and place though."
Race took the cigar out of his mouth. "Youse so shoah that scab is one of us. Maybe one of yer Brooklyn idiots did it."
Spot looked at him indifferently while everyone else gasped. "Ya know Race, maybe yer the one who gave the kid away. It's understandable. I mean, ya do so badly at the races that ya gotta make a livin somehow, right?" Race jumped to his feet, ready to fight.
"Ah, c'mon ya guys. I'se was just in the middle of winnin this damn poker game. Don't make me kick both of yer asses just so that we'se can get back to our own melodramas."
Spot was actually amused by the words and wanted to see who the speaker was. He looked to his side at someone who was hiding behind their poker cards. He stepped forward and brought the cards down with his hand.
"Youse!"
Spunks smiled. "Nice tah see ya too! Did ya miss me so much that ya had tah come all the way tah me place just tah see me? Aww, I'se really flattered, Spotty! Now how about youse go on back tah yer borough before ya really piss me off?"
Spot arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me? Who do ya think youse is?"
"I asked ever so nicely too!" the girl sighed. "I guess ya just had it comin." She gave him one of her flirtateous smiles and an instant later, her fist smacked into the side of his head. He stepped back from the impact and tripped over himself, falling to the floor. Spunks was the only one laughing at this point, even Race thought she had gone too far.
Spot arose slowly, his eye already turning from red to a darker shade. He grabbed the girl's wrist before anyone knew what was going on, and yanked her closer to him. When their faces were less than an inch away from each other, he whispered to her menacingly. "Youse obviously don't know who yer messin wid. Maybe a stay in Brooklyn will help tah tame yer wild nature. If not, I know a few other remedies I learned from street gangs." She tried to break free from his grasp, but he wouldn't let her go.
"What the hell is goin on in heah!?" It was Jack. He had just returned from a date with Sarah. The first thing that caught his attention was Spot and Spunks standing in the middle of the room. Obviously, a confrontation had just taken place between the two rivalries.
"She's a friggin pistol, Jack and I'se tired of it. I can only give her so many warnings. I can only think of one way to change her bad attitude. I want her tah stay in Brooklyn wid me fer at least a month. I'se shoah we'll be able tah break her."
Spunks finally managed to squirm out of Spot's grip. "There aint no way in hell I'se goin tah live wid you and yer little minions! I'd sooner plunge a knife through me head!"
Jack looked at them both. "Actually…"
Spunks shot him a look. "Yer not considerin it, are ya Jack!? Youse can't be serious! I hate ya! I'd rather live on the streets er in a whore house! Spot is the most egocentric monster I'se ever known." She turned on her heels to run up the stairs to the girls' bunkroom, but Spot tripped her and she fell onto his feet. He reached down and pulled her up onto her feet.
"Listen Spunks," Jack said. "Spot's right about yer attitude. Youse getting a bit rowdy and self-assured. Now I don't want any riots tah start breakin out between me own newsies, because I knows a lot of them admire yer free spirit. Ya gotta learn tah calm down and control yer temper."
"And ya think Spot can teach her that?" someone called out. Jack did not appreciate the comment in all the tension that engulfed the room presently and he clearly showed it in his expression. "Anyways," he continued, "I'se gonna let Spot take ya tah Brooklyn. Only under the condition that he treats ya wid respect and doesn't abuse his leadership powers. I'll come check up on ya every other day, and after a month, I'll go and take ya back home. Now that doesn't sound so bad, right?"
Spunks glared at him. "Nah, hell doesn't seem so bad at foist."
* * * * *
The entire walk to Brooklyn, Spot and Spunks had not spoken a single word. Spot, because he had nothing to say as of yet, and Spunks because she was still too embarrassed to swallow her pride. When they reached the Brooklyn Lodging House, Spot was courteous enough to open the front door and let Spunks enter first, yet she hadn't uttered a word of thanks. He let her choose which bed in the girls' bunkroom she wanted, there were at least ten available, and then retired into his own room. But sleep would not come to him that night.
He tossed and turned in his bed, his conscious eating him away. For some reason, he felt bad about the way he was treating the girl. He had taken her away from the only friends she knew and had brought her to a place far away from her security border. "Oh god, Spot. Don't start feelin sorry. She deserves what she's getting and ya know that!" He had to repeat that to himself five times before he rest finally found him.
* * * * *
"Rise and shine, sweety! In this part of New Yawk, we'se get up an hour earlier on account that we woik fer a different chain of papes."
Spunks woke with a start and opened her wary eyes to find herself looking at Spot. She moaned in disgust, and lay back down. "Go away. I never said I would sell yer lousy papes."
Spot picked up the mattress and raised it so that she fell off.
"SPOT!!!, leave me alone!"
"Rule # 1," Spot began. "Ya always sell papes cuz that's the way we'se make a livin. If ya aint got the money tah pay for lodging, then youse can't stay heah. Understood?"
"Go tah hell," Spunks retorted. But nonetheless, she got up to her feet and made her way to the washroom. All of the newsgirls were already dressed and heading out the door so she assumed it was the same with the boys. And that only meant one thing. "Youse aint sellin wid me tahday, are ya Spot?"
"Of coise I am! What better way to teach ya a few more lessons!"
* * * * *
"I'se already a good newsie," Spunks argued. "I don't need yer friggin help."
Spot laughed. At least he and the girl were on talking terms now. It would be easier to find out what bothered her so if they were engaged in conversation. It was still morning when they both had finished selling their papers and so Spot took the girl to the docks where they could overlook the dark blue waters.
"Ya knows how tah use a slingshot?"
"Of coise I do. Whaddya take me fer, an idiot?" She uncrossed her arms when he handed her one of the weapons the Brooklyn newsies were infamous for. She looked at it and then held her hand out for a shooter. Spot gave her a shiny red marble and smiled. Spunks turned away from him momentarily as she tried to situate the marble on the slingshot's launcher. When she had done that, she chose one of the windowpanes of an abandoned factory nearby as a target. She pulled the launcher back and released. The marble fell at her feet.
Spot burst out laughing. "Wow, Spunky, youse shoah got some master skills there. Maybe youse can teach me someday how tah shoot wid stupidity like that!"
"Ah, shaddup, ya bum," she snapped.
"Heah," Spot said, "lemme show ya sumthin." He took his slingshot back and positioned another marble on the launcher properly. Then with ease, he suavely pulled the shooter back, released it, and watched it soar towards the window Spunks had tried to shoot earlier. The shattering glass was like music to his ears and he beamed with pride.
Spunks rolled her eyes, but looked at him with what could have been a smile. "Show-off," she muttered.
"I'se could teach ya. It'd be fun." He froze, realizing what he had just said. He noticed that Spunks looked at him weirdly as well. They both knew this rendezvous was not supposed to be enjoyable, yet Spot had just insisted that they take part in a 'fun' activity. "I mean….well, as a newsie…uhm, it's of the absolute necessity that youse know how tah use one of these things."
"Shoah, whatever," Spunks replied. "I'se just can't wait 'til a month is up. Oh, and by the way, don't ya ever calls me Spunky again er I'll give ya two black eyes before youse can say 'Spot Conlon is a Dog'!"
Spot shook his head. Where did that come from!? "Aww, but Spunky is such a cute nickname fer youse." He glanced at her to see her reaction and was relieved that she was at least smiling now.
"In that case, how 'bout I'se call ya Spotty! I bet ya wouldn't like that one bit. I mean, if woid got out that his high and mighty was letting someone call him that, people would actually start thinking youse were all mushy deep down inside. We wouldn't want tah be spreadin rumors now, would we?"
"I get the impression that youse think I'm some kinda joik without a care in the woild fer anyone." They had been walking around the docks and now came onto a railing which kept newsies from falling into the waters ten feet below, even though most of them jumped into it from greater heights.
Spunks leaned onto this railing. "Listen boy, I knows yer type. Fast- paced, always get what ya want. And then after ya do, ya move on at an even quicker pace. Youse only have feelins fer a goil when ya got her on her back and as soon as she gives herself away tah youse, ya say yer goodbye's and find other fresh meat."
Spot arched his eyebrows in disgust. Who ever had been telling Spunks this was sure in for the soaking of their life. Spot had never even slept with a girl, not because he couldn't get any, but because he believed in waiting for the right one. It was true that he had had many girlfriends though, but he never broke up with any of them for 'fresher meat'. On the contrary, Spot was quite the gentleman. He despised girls who played their boyfriends and cheated on them behind their backs and it appalled him that guys could brag about how good 'last night' was.
"How do ya know me type if youse aint even ever talked tah me fer at least an hour? Youse judging me by what others say? Listen, lots of goils are heartbroken out there cuz I can't go out wid them all and alotta guys are jealous that they's aint got as much charm as me. Is it my problem that I'se can't please everybody?"
"There it is right there," Spunks exclaimed. "Yer so full of yerself. Ya think youse is the most perfect guy on earth!"
"Ah, c'mon, at least one of the most perfect! But it's not a sin tah be content wid yer looks. I'll make ya a deal. I'll try not tah be conceited fer a day and youse can try and treat me as sweetly as yer personality permits the whole while. How 'bout it?"
Spunks thought it over. It was becoming tiring to insult Spot so much when she did not even know him that well. Maybe he was a pretty cool guy afterall. She could give him a chance, she decided, and perhaps they could become friends. She scratched her head. Friendship seemed unlikely as the moment. But second chances didn't.
"Youse got yerself a deal, Conlon!"
* * * * *
It was Friday night and newsies from all over New York were filtering into Irving Hall for Medda's monthly party. Jack, Race, Davey, Mush, and Blink sat at a round table near the stage, surveying the young ladies who walked in, though Jack was not participating as much as he used to due to the fact that he was with Sarah.
"Heya," Race said, "I wonder how Spunks is getting along wid Spot. Do ya think they's will be comin tahnight?"
"Youse kiddin me! Spot never misses a chance tah win at a game of poker." Jack scanned the room for a second time, looking for his best friend.
"Or a chance tah take a goil home wid him," Blink joked. Race and Mush joined in the laughter until a pretty girl caught their attention. Without a word, they jumped to their feet and headed over to where she was shyly standing.
Davey shook his head. "They act like they have never seen a girl before!"
"Heya, look! There's Spot! I told youse he'd come." Jack smiled widely as Spot approached the group of friends. After they all spit-shook, Jack noticed Spunks standing behind. "Spunks! How's it been rollin?!" He threw his arms around her and gave her a big hug which she returned happily.
"Not too bad, Jack." In her tight red dress with a slit on one side going up past mid-thigh, she looked astoundingly beautiful. Her hair was tied back in a simple bun with only two curly strands of it hanging on either side of her face. She marched up to Race and sat on his lap in an alluring manner, taking the cigar out of his mouth and bumming a short puff of it.
Spot felt the little hairs on his neck prickle in jealousy.
Race caught sight of the tension clearly expressed in the Brooklyn leader's face and smiled. He was enjoying every minute of this. If he could not beat Spot at fighting or selling papers or cursing out scabs, he could at least beat him in winning Spunks.
"Spunks," the Italian newsie whispered. "Why don't we'se go somewhere a little bit more private?"
Spunks brought her face closer to him and tempted him even more with her soothing voice. "Youse not a fan of public displays of affection?" And before receiving an answer, she began to kiss Race hard and long.
Jack looked at Spot who seemed to be distressed. "Ah, don't worry about them. They's used tah go out back in the day, but now they's just friends wid benefits."
Spot shrugged it off when he saw one of his ex-girlfriends heading his way. Jenna. With her long locks of golden hair and eyes green as the sea, she was one of the most beautiful girls in New York. Spot had broken up with her because in truth, he felt she deserved someone who could always be at her side to protect her from roaming goons, and as leader as Brooklyn, he could not be constantly worrying about whether his girl was safe at home. However, she was constantly trying to get back with him. Spot was the only guy who had ever cared about her so much to let her go.
"Hey hunny," Jenna called out excitedly. She leaned over and planted a kiss on Spot's cheek. He smirked and pulled her onto his lap.
"Heya goigeous, I haven't seen youse in a few weeks? Whatchya been up tah?"
"Aww, were ya worried about me?" He nodded and she gave him another kiss on the cheek. By this time, Spunks and Race had finished making out and it was now Spunks' turn to be jealous. Seeing how flirty Spot was made her wonder why she had never tried to make a move on him before.
"Oh, Spot, yer such a cutie!"
Spunks groaned. Jenna was the kind of girl she hated with all her might. The kind of girl who was endlessly peppy and clueless at the same time. The kind of girl who would always fall prey to fancy pickup lines and shallow promises.
"Youse get yerself a new boyfriend yet?"
Jenna looked at Spot surprised. "Well…no. I'se still kinda hoping we'se can get back together. I mean, what we had, it was so special! It hurts whenever I think about the day we broke up." She frowned innocently and looked as if she were about to cry.
"Puke! Gimme a break," Spunks declared. "Jesus, goil, youse is actin like yer gonna die if ya don't get back wid Spot! He aint the only guy in New Yawk, ya know. As a mattah of fact, I can name fifty guys from the top of my head far superior. Besides, it's obvious why Spot even got wid youse in the foist place. Do ya think he wants ya all ovah him fer nuthin? Sorry sweetheart, wid a body like that, I'd be surprised if Spot hasn't taken ya tah bed yet."
Spot's eyes widened as Jenna inhaled a large gasp. Embarrassed, the blonde girl quickly rose to her feet and ran out of Irving Hall with her face in her hands. Spot sat motionless in his chair. What had just happened and where did Spunks get the idea that she could just put in her two cents whenever she wanted?
"Yer such a bitch!" he yelled at her. "Ya think ya know everything. For yer information, Jenna's personality is what interested me enough to go out with her. But ya never consider that. Tah youse, I'se just some lousy street rat whose tryin tah get laid. Why don't ya mind yer own business fer once!" He slammed his fists on the table and then stormed out of Irving Hall to apologize to Jenna for Spunk's unkind words. The entire room was silent and all eyes fell onto Spunks.
"Ah, he's so damn dramatic," she muttered and then she too walked out of the building leaving the rest of the newsies behind to wonder what was going on between Spot and Spunks.
* * * * *
Spot sat up in bed that night reflecting upon the day's events. It had started out with him and Spunks seeming to have worked things out somewhat perfectly. They were getting along quite alright and had settled their differences for the moment. What had made her go off like that at Jenna? It couldn't possibly be jealousy! She had been busy making out with her own friend; why would she get mad at Spot for doing the same?
Spot ran his fingers through his hair. Something was indeed bothering Spunks. She had agreed to not judge Spot any more, why would she abandon that promise? Maybe she had heard another rumor, or worse, had fallen prey to assumption.
"Gosh, that goil is gonna drive youse crazy, Conlon," Spot told himself. "Maybe ya should just ferget about this training crap and give her back tah Manhattan. Lord knows that's all she probably wants." The Brooklyn leader decided that was what he was going to do first thing tomorrow.
* * * * *
Spunks lay in her bed crying into her pillow. What was the matter with her? Did she take pleasure in making Spot Conlon feel inferior? She raised her head and wiped away the tears that streaked her smooth cheeks. She did not like being this way; being incredibly bitter.
"Youse could just stop then," she told herself, "and start being the way youse really is. Ya never had a problem like this before." She sighed. She would have to swallow her pride in order to do what she intended. She was going to apologize to Spot and ask if they could start over again.
* * * * *
"Mornin, Spot," a young voice greeted his leader. "Youse twenty minutes late. Ya feelin alright?"
Spot opened his eyes to find his messenger newsie, Runner, staring down at him with curious eyes. "Yea, I'se feelin great. But I wanna sleep in tahday. I'll see youse latah at Tibby's, alright?" The little boy nodded with a grin and then sped off to catch up with the others at the distribution center. Spot slept ten more minutes before he rose from bed and freshened up in the washroom. He knew Spunks was still in the lodging house; she wouldn't dare wait any longer than she had to before facing him.
Spot put on a white undershirt and then a green plaid shirt that was still too large for him, but he liked the extra room. He wore his grey pants today and slid his red suspenders on in a hurry. After shoving his slingshot in his back pocket and sliding his cane through one of his belt loops, he looked into the mirror that hung from the back of his door. Spot was the only newsie in New York who had his own room. Most of the other leaders thought it silly to be separated from their boys, but Spot believed in privacy. He combed the tangles out of his wet hair with a comb and then threw one last look at his reflection before heading up to the girls' bunkroom.
When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Spunks sitting on the nearest bed to the doorway, already dressed and ready to go. Her arms were crossed and she looked at him monotonously. "Bout time, Spotty." She got to her feet and crossed the room over to him. He would not move out of the doorway. "Youse planning on sellin papes, cuz we aint got all day, ya know."
"Listen, youse are really givin me a hard time. Yer practically ruining me life. I know ya hate me and all of Brooklyn, so I'se gonna wave the white flag now. I give up. I'se takin ya back tah Manhattan as soon as yer bags are packed. Then we never hafta talk tah each other after that."
Spunks looked hurt. "Please Spot, gimme another chance. I'se sorry about last night and I'se sorry about givin ya such a hard time! I really think we'se can woik this out though. I mean, don't give up so early in the game!"
"How many chances do ya want me tah-"Spot was cut short when Spunks wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned in, and kissed him hard on the lips. When she pulled away, she looked into his eyes for a response. "Where the hell did that come from?! One day youse callin me a bastard and then another day, youse all ovah me." He smirked, his cheeks getting hot. "Not that I don't appreciate this new change in attitude." He placed his hands around her waist and pulled her closer to him.
"I think I knows why I was bein such a bitch tah youse. Ya see, I'se used tah feelin nuthin fer the guys I floit wid. But when I met youse, I felt sumthin and I was scared because I didn't want ya tah take advantage of me, like I know alotta guys would have. So instead, I tried to get rid of the feelin by expressin all my anger onto youse. Of coise, it didn't woik. As a matter of fact, I think I'se in love wid youse."
Spot's smirk grew cockier. This was the last thing he had expected to come out from Spunks' mouth. She loved him! And deep down inside, he knew he felt the same way too. The jealousy, the worrying about how she felt. It all made perfect sense. And now that they had finally confessed to each other, the pains that had found refuge in his heart suddenly subsided. "Ya, I love ya too," he said before kissing her again.
This kiss was more passionate. Spot found himself wanting more and more of the girl. He let his tongue venture out of his mouth and explored the delicacy of her lips. She held him tighter now and encouraged him to go on. Still holding her around the waist, he walked over to the nearest bed where he gently lay her down. He remained standing to unbutton his shirt and pants, but being as nervous as he was, his fingers were shaking too much to achieve the task. Spunks groaned and sat up in the bed. She yanked him down onto the bed beside her and practically ripped off his clothes. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Once his clothes were off, Spot helped Spunks do away with hers, though she did not need much help. Finally, they lay naked in the bed, ready to give their selves away to each other.
At first, Spot kept the pace slow and steady but it wasn't long before he built it up and was slamming into his new found lover with feverish passion. With each thrust, Spunks moaned out with pleasure, urging him to go deeper. As Spot began pumping harder, Spunks felt the onset of an orgasm approaching. Her body was laced in beads of sweat as was Spot's. She tightened her legs around him and pulled him closer to her with the utmost desire. Then the spasm came and she found herself screaming his name out. He was glad that he was able to pleasure her and was just as glad that he was getting the same pleasure. His groins sparked with a new feeling he had never felt before but had always longed for. It shocked his entire body rigorously and he too began to yell out Spunks' name. When the orgasm had passed, both of them were speechless. Neither had ever experienced something so precious- at least not this precious.
A few minutes later, their restless bodies were at it again, but this time, Spunks straddled Spot. They kept rustling about on the bed, fighting for the top. Spot could not keep his lips off of Spunks. He found it necessary to explore every inch of her with wild abandon. The second orgasm was even better than the first and they screamed all the louder. Afterwards, they let there bodies rest.
Spot sighed. "I have waited all me life tah share that wid someone I truly loved."
"Oh really?" Spunks asked nonchalantly. "Well, it aint me foist time but I hafta admit, it was better than what I'se used tah."
"Wait," Spot interrupted, "whaddya mean it aint yer foist time?"
"Well, I wasn't a virgin before tahday. I'se slept around before. Lust is a beautiful thing, sweety. And besides, practice makes perfect. I gave ya what youse wanted, right?"
"Yea, but, what we just shared is sumthin very special. And yer meanin tah tell me you've shared it wid other guys?" Spot was both shocked and angered at the same time. How could she not care as much about this as he did? This wasn't just to indulge in sexual pleasures. He had done it because he loved her!
Spunks rolled her eyes. "Don't make such a big deal out of it, Spotty. Just picture us as friends wid benefits." She rolled off the bed and began dressing herself.
"Friends?"
"Well, what did ya think we'se were?" Spunks asked. She laughed but then got serious. "Oh no….youse thought I really loved ya? Oh my god, is yer self esteem that low? Do ya actually think I meant those words when I said them?" She laughed again, this time maliciously. "Spotty, I only said them to get ya where I wanted ya. Imagine how popular I'se gonna be now when everyone finds out that I'se got Spot Conlon on his back!"
Spot thought he was going to pass out at that very moment. It was all a lie, all a trick. Had she been planning to do this all along? Had someone he loved truly rejected him? How could this be? He was a good guy who never hurt anyone. What did he do to deserve this?
When Spunks had put her last piece of attire on, she casually walked over to Spot and kissed him deeply. Spot pulled away, tears forming in his eyes.
Spunks laughed again. "Thanks fer the ride, hunny." Then she marched out of the room with her head held high, not once looking back. She held character until she was out of the lodging house for good. Then she broke down into sobs.
"You idiot!" she screamed. "What have you done? You are a monster! Did you see the look on his face when you made him think you didn't love him?" Spunks fell to her knees and wept like a baby. How could she have the audacity to hurt someone in the most painful way? What was she turning into? She looked up to the windows of the girls' bunkroom. Inside, Spot was probably crying his heart out, all because of her. And the worse part was that she couldn't exactly go back inside and apologize to him. He would never forgive her and it would be impossible to get him to understand.
She sat outside the lodging house sulking. She believed she finally had reached a conclusion about why she was acting so demonically. It was indeed because she loved Spot so much. But she was afraid of that fact. And she was afraid she would not be good enough for him. That did not justify her actions, she knew that, but it would help her to evaluate herself.
Half an hour later, Spunks finally gathered up enough strength to start the long walk back to Manhattan. She shed one last tear for Spot before pulling herself together.
* * * * *
Spot threw his cane across the room and yelled at the moment it shattered a window pane. He was so infuriated. He couldn't even remember being this mad. Was it even possible for a human heart to be so cold and cruel? Tears fell freely down his pouty cheeks, and he cried out in sobs. He had given himself away! And it turned out that the girl he loved did not even return that love! It tore him apart inside. He felt like crawling under a bed and dying in a huddled ball.
Such sacrifices, and only to be hurt so badly!
He slammed his fist into the wall and did not even flinch at the new pain. He did not care. A ton of bricks could fall on him this very moment and he wouldn't care. Love had hurt him, and that was the worse pain anyone could ever endure.
To be continued…..