Okay, so this is my first shot at writing a real live Newsies story...let me know if it sucks major, okay? Sorry about the New Yawk talk - I tried and kinda failed.
I've gotta dedicate this in some part to Christina/Butterfly for reading it through and for yelling at me to post it up here!!! It isn't as good as your brilliant writing yet, but maybe someday ...
They had been best friends all their lives. The three musketeers. Jack Kelley, or Cowboy, as he was known all around Manhattan. Spot Conlon, the feared and respected leader of Brooklyn. Blush Collins, one of the only girl newsies in all of New York. She was the right hand girl for both the leader of Manhattan and that of Brooklyn, helping them out when they needed it and keeping their heads on straight. If you ever needed something from either Cowboy or Spot, Blush was the one to see. Together, the three of them were the most powerful trio in all of New York.
"Get up! Blush, sweetie, GET UP!"
A tousled brown head emerged from the tangle of blankets on her bed to see a grinning Spot Conlon standing over her.
"Go 'way. I'se sleepin'" she burrowed her head back into her pillow.
"I can see that, ya lousy lay-a-bed! We're almost late already - get up!"
"What's da matter wit' you? Go 'way spot. I'se...OW!"
Spot bodily picked her up in his arms and dropped her on the floor.
"Get up, I said. It's time to go."
"Spot Conlon!" Blush was almost spluttering with rage. "That ain't no way to be treatin' a lady an - "
"HA! You? A lady?"
"Oh, that's it. Evan Micheal Conlon, you are so dead it's barely even funny." Blush stood up, rubbing her bottom ruefully and glaring at the boy in front of her.
"Uh-oh, Spot, she brought out yet middle name. Last time she did that ta me I ended up with a shiner fer two weeks - you best be runnin'!" Jack Kelley's grinning face appeared around the door fame.
"Shut up, Cowboy! Unless of course you want a repeat performance?" Blush turned her green -eyed glare on him, hands menacingly on her hips. Laughing, he held up his hands in defeat and retreated back behind the closed door. Turning back to Spot, Blush resumed her earlier stance.
"I'm gonna hafta soak ya, ya know that Spot. So either run or c'mere."
Spot smirked. "Ya think I'm gonna make it that easy for ya? Catch me if ya can!" with that, he fled into the bathroom.
Blush almost growled with frustration. She was now fully awake against her will, and though her bottom felt too bruised to be bothered with soaking Spot right now, she knew it was a question of honour. If she let him off this time, he'd never let her forget it. Stamping her foot angrily, she stalked towards the bathroom.
"Spot Conlon, you get out here right this - OW!!"
For the second time that morning, she found herself sprawled on the floor with Spot standing over her triumphantly.
"You was sayin', Blush?"
Blush spluttered with rage, so infuriated that she couldn't even string together curses anymore.
"That's what I thought. Score one for me." He smirked at her and began to walk away...THUMP! He was promptly thrown to the ground as Blush took a flying leap at him. She sat on his chest and proceeded to pummel every part of him that she could reach. Unfortunately, Spot being stronger than she was, Blush soon found herself flipped over on her back, Spot lying on top of her.
"Spot, get off me, you're..."
She suddenly noticed that his gray-green-blue eyes were looking down at her from merely inches above hers. She was having a hard time breathing all of a sudden. When did his eyes get so...intoxicating? Blush thought to herself. She attempted to regain her previous train of thought, but the only words that she managed to get out were in a whisper.
"Spot, I - I..." His lips were inches away from hers, and his eyes were filled with a look that she couldn't identify. "I-..."
"Oi, slowpokes, what's taking you so - " Jack burst into the room. " - long...um? Guys?"
Spot rolled off Blush in a flash, his red face matching hers.
"We was jist...um...I'll see you downstairs." Spot muttered before rushing out of the room as if his feet were on fire. Jack raised his eyebrows inquisitively at Blush, who was doing her name justice; her face rivaling the colour of a tomato.
"Can I ask what -?"
"Jack, um, could you give me a minute? I'll be dressed in a sec." Blush muttered, turning away.
"Blush, but, what was going - "
"Jack, could you just wait downstairs with Spot? Please? I'll be down in a minute." She turned to look at him, her eyes pleading with him to not ask anymore questions.
"Fine. Fine, I'll just go then. Hurry up, okay, kid?" Jack, about to go, caught the look on her face. He walked over and hugged her.
"You okay?" Blush nodded, just barely. "We'll wait, kid. Take your time."
With that, he left.
Blush sat down on her bed. What the hell was that?
I've gotta dedicate this in some part to Christina/Butterfly for reading it through and for yelling at me to post it up here!!! It isn't as good as your brilliant writing yet, but maybe someday ...
They had been best friends all their lives. The three musketeers. Jack Kelley, or Cowboy, as he was known all around Manhattan. Spot Conlon, the feared and respected leader of Brooklyn. Blush Collins, one of the only girl newsies in all of New York. She was the right hand girl for both the leader of Manhattan and that of Brooklyn, helping them out when they needed it and keeping their heads on straight. If you ever needed something from either Cowboy or Spot, Blush was the one to see. Together, the three of them were the most powerful trio in all of New York.
"Get up! Blush, sweetie, GET UP!"
A tousled brown head emerged from the tangle of blankets on her bed to see a grinning Spot Conlon standing over her.
"Go 'way. I'se sleepin'" she burrowed her head back into her pillow.
"I can see that, ya lousy lay-a-bed! We're almost late already - get up!"
"What's da matter wit' you? Go 'way spot. I'se...OW!"
Spot bodily picked her up in his arms and dropped her on the floor.
"Get up, I said. It's time to go."
"Spot Conlon!" Blush was almost spluttering with rage. "That ain't no way to be treatin' a lady an - "
"HA! You? A lady?"
"Oh, that's it. Evan Micheal Conlon, you are so dead it's barely even funny." Blush stood up, rubbing her bottom ruefully and glaring at the boy in front of her.
"Uh-oh, Spot, she brought out yet middle name. Last time she did that ta me I ended up with a shiner fer two weeks - you best be runnin'!" Jack Kelley's grinning face appeared around the door fame.
"Shut up, Cowboy! Unless of course you want a repeat performance?" Blush turned her green -eyed glare on him, hands menacingly on her hips. Laughing, he held up his hands in defeat and retreated back behind the closed door. Turning back to Spot, Blush resumed her earlier stance.
"I'm gonna hafta soak ya, ya know that Spot. So either run or c'mere."
Spot smirked. "Ya think I'm gonna make it that easy for ya? Catch me if ya can!" with that, he fled into the bathroom.
Blush almost growled with frustration. She was now fully awake against her will, and though her bottom felt too bruised to be bothered with soaking Spot right now, she knew it was a question of honour. If she let him off this time, he'd never let her forget it. Stamping her foot angrily, she stalked towards the bathroom.
"Spot Conlon, you get out here right this - OW!!"
For the second time that morning, she found herself sprawled on the floor with Spot standing over her triumphantly.
"You was sayin', Blush?"
Blush spluttered with rage, so infuriated that she couldn't even string together curses anymore.
"That's what I thought. Score one for me." He smirked at her and began to walk away...THUMP! He was promptly thrown to the ground as Blush took a flying leap at him. She sat on his chest and proceeded to pummel every part of him that she could reach. Unfortunately, Spot being stronger than she was, Blush soon found herself flipped over on her back, Spot lying on top of her.
"Spot, get off me, you're..."
She suddenly noticed that his gray-green-blue eyes were looking down at her from merely inches above hers. She was having a hard time breathing all of a sudden. When did his eyes get so...intoxicating? Blush thought to herself. She attempted to regain her previous train of thought, but the only words that she managed to get out were in a whisper.
"Spot, I - I..." His lips were inches away from hers, and his eyes were filled with a look that she couldn't identify. "I-..."
"Oi, slowpokes, what's taking you so - " Jack burst into the room. " - long...um? Guys?"
Spot rolled off Blush in a flash, his red face matching hers.
"We was jist...um...I'll see you downstairs." Spot muttered before rushing out of the room as if his feet were on fire. Jack raised his eyebrows inquisitively at Blush, who was doing her name justice; her face rivaling the colour of a tomato.
"Can I ask what -?"
"Jack, um, could you give me a minute? I'll be dressed in a sec." Blush muttered, turning away.
"Blush, but, what was going - "
"Jack, could you just wait downstairs with Spot? Please? I'll be down in a minute." She turned to look at him, her eyes pleading with him to not ask anymore questions.
"Fine. Fine, I'll just go then. Hurry up, okay, kid?" Jack, about to go, caught the look on her face. He walked over and hugged her.
"You okay?" Blush nodded, just barely. "We'll wait, kid. Take your time."
With that, he left.
Blush sat down on her bed. What the hell was that?