Chapter 36
Blink, Bristles, and Spot still stood there unmoving, each one waiting for the other to say something in order to break the awkwardness. Or at least move. Finally, Blink did. He muttered that he would have to tell all the other newsies the story, then, throwing Spot a look, went down to the stairs. Walking down the steps, he worried about leaving them there alone, but it'd be best if he wasn't there.
Bristles studied Spot, it had been a while since she had seen him. He looked forlorn. The same battered newsie clothes that he had worn before, same shoes, same hat, but a different face. It was thinner, and sadder. The eyes were darker, not the bright gray ones that she had fallen in love with the first time she had seen him. She wasn't expecting Spot to look like this, she didn't even expect him to come back, although she ached for it everyday in her heart. Bristles didn't notice that Spot was looking her over too, and was thinking almost the exact same thing as her, still beautiful, only thinner and more sad. He noticed how her eyes were red, like she'd been crying.
Bristles walked back to the bed and sat down. She looked at the wall, not at Spot. She didn't want to see him. Her heart hurt enough even without him there. But she never thought it possible that he was just as heartbroken as she was.
Each minute passing by in this silence was torture, in Spot's opinion. It would have been better if she spoke. He couldn't keep standing there at the doorway looking at the girl he cared for so much acting as if he didn't even exist. Spot walked over to the bunk and held Bristles, who automatically struggled to free herself from his grasp.
"Let go of me!"
Spot gripped her tighter. He didn't know if he was hurting her, but he couldn't let Bristles go.
"No!"
He put his arms around Bristles tightly, completely unaware that she had finally stopped and collapsed into him, her eyes tearing and face was buried in his shirt, so that the cries of sorrow and relief were drowned out. Spot looked up into nothing, eyes tearing, he was about to cry too. The great Spot Conlon, the leader newsie of Brooklyn, cry! But he was crying. If not out loud, inside his soul. Crying from mixed emotions. Sorrow, longing, heartache, regret, relief to have Bristles back. But did he? It had been a long time since Spot was able to hold someone like this, with this feeling. In fact, there may never have been 'a long time since'. He should have come back earlier.
"I wanted you to come back so much," Bristles said, still sobbing into Spot's shirt. He hugged her even closer, not wanting to let go.
"Me too, moah dan you can imagine,"
"Why didn't you come back sooner?"
"I was afraid,"
"Of what?"
"Of you,"
"Why?"
"You might not've wanted me back,"
Bristles laughed a little, and sniffed. She looked up to Spot's face, and saw his eyes full of tears, then remarked, "Huh! Whod've thought Mr. I'm Spot Conlon And I'm The Greatest would be crying,"
Spot laughed. "Yeah, but only foah you…ya now I love ya, right?"
Bristles nodded, then smiled at him. Suddenly, she found those eyes again. The ones that had shone brightly in happiness and fiery pride and she had fallen in love all over again. She put her arms around his neck, looked at him, mouthed three words, then closed her eyes and kissed him passionately before he could even respond. They both fell back on the bed, still entangled, and this time neither was going to let go. Who would have thought that Spot Conlon had finally been beaten.
