"Spark?" was the word that woke me up the next morning. The voice I quickly realized belonged to Fingers. I opened my eyes, looking up at the brown haired girl. "Mouth wants ta see ya."

I nodded, and as I pulled on an overshirt, I asked her, "Wheah's Slidah? Ain't she da leadah? Seems like Mouth is runnin' da place."

"She is. Ya see, Sli left heah for--" she stopped suddenly. She diverted her eyes and I knew instantly that she was keeping something from me. "Mouth'll fill ya in. I got ta get ready ta sell now, I'se already runnin' late."

"Thank ya," I said before she scampered off. A minute later I was approaching the nearly empty bunkroom where only Mouth and Firecracker sat. "Ya wanted ta talk ta me?" I asked nervously. I felt almost like I was facing the headmaster at school again, only then I could smart-mouth and my father would make it up with a sizable donation. Something told me this would be a little harder to get out of.

"Sit on down, I t'ink we all need ta talk," Fire said and patted the spot between her and Mouth. I didn't really want to sit there, but what choice did I have?

"Foist ordah of buisness, ya gonna have a place ta stay when it comes?" Mouth questioned.

I sighed with relief when I heard the question. This I could answer correctly. "Medda's giving me a job and board in six months when of one her regulars leaves."

Mouth looked puzzled at this before she spoke again. "Medda ain't losin' a regular," she said, more to Firecracker than to me. Fire nodded understandingly. "She's givin' ya dis outta da kindness of 'er heart, make shore ya give 'er a reason ta keep ya."

I realized then how much charity had been paid to me. I was sickened by the amount of sympathy and pity I was getting from everyone. Angrily I stood up and started shouting at the two. "I don't need your charity! I can take care of myself! Don't think you have to give me anything just because I'm the poor defenseless Spark Conlon and you feel sympathy for me!"

With those last words I stormed out of the room and into the street. I must have been woken in the late afternoon because dusk was already falling. I successfully dodged the newsies that were still selling and roamed the streets without a place to go. Eventually, as it was nearing midnight according to the clock tower, I realized I had nowhere to sleep. I couldn't possibly go back to either of the lodging houses. I wouldn't disturb Birdy again, and I was exiled from Brooklyn. I wandered aimlessly around the town, unsure of what to do next.

It was sometime that night that it really hit me that I had been banished by my own brother. The droplets of weakness called tears fell down my face again, but mostly I felt anger. I was all he had left for family and I let him down. I'd betrayed his only command over me. I'd thrown caution to the wind and ignored everything he had taught me. Looked at in this light, I understood completely why he didn't want me anymore. I was a shame to him, and it appeared I didn't love him. I couldn't believe how stupid and horrible I'd been. I was ashamed of myself.

At the same time, he should have shown compassion. I'd simply made his mistake again. He was hypocritical to blame me for succumbing to my hormones when he had done the same thing three years back, when he was only sixteen years old.

I was unsure and confused, with no place to go. I knew better than to sleep in the alleyway like people always do in books, in reality you get stabbed or raped from sleeping unprotected in dark alleys. I continually roamed the streets, looking for a safe haven. I found my sanctuary outside, but near protection. I slept balanced on boxes outside of the newsboys lodging house. I knew that Jack would at least take me in if trouble arose, all I had to do was shout.

And with those somewhat happy thoughts in my mind, I slept.

The next morning, it wasn't Jack that found me, or any of the other newsies, it was Oscar Delancy.

"Now, what's a pretty little goil like ya doin' out heah wit' dese bums?" he said in feigned sweetness, trying to hit on me.

"More den I would evah do wit' you, Oscar," I said, not wanting to fill him in on my recent struggles with the newsies. With any luck, he wouldn't have heard the gossip spreading through the crowd.

Unfortunately, I wasn't too lucky. "What's da rumah goin' 'roud t'rough da crowd dat you'se havin' a baby? Who'd ya let do ya instead 'a me?"

I stared at him in shock for a moment before recovering. "Would I evah do anythin' wit' da likes 'a you?"

"Ya're jus' 'bout ta do somethin'. It's ya call what it is, ya can eithah meet me fist or give me somethin' ta do wit' my time. Ya call," he spat venomously.

I'm rarely scared, but this is just one of those times were you can't do anything but shake and shriek. And shriek I did. "Jack! Kloppman! Someone!" But no one came.

This further fueled Oscar on. "Oh, is da little goil scared. If ya done it before why is it scarin' ya. You'se already a whore."

That was the final straw for me. Being called a floozy and a whore by my friends had stung, yes, but after the initial shock and hurt, I managed to get over that. Hearing someone I loathed call me that, well, it caused me to do something I would never do in any other situation. "Shut da hell up! I did what I did because I loved da man I did it wit' an' he hoit me. An' I made some stupid decisions, but I ain't 'bout ta make you part of it. Now get da hell away from me or I'll hoit ya like ya nevah been hoit before. Undastand dat?"

For a moment I thought I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes, but I must have been mistaken as in the next instant his taunting had resumed. "Ya gonna hoit me? Now I'se scared, a little goil is gonna hoit me. Oh no. Come heah goil, or I'se gonna hoit ya more den ya wanted."

My last defense was gone so I resorted to screaming one last time. "Jack! Anyone! Help! I'se out heah!"

My prayers were yet again unanswered and Oscar took this chance to seize his opportunity. He grabbed me around my waist and pushed me against the wall. He reached in and sloppily kissed me, and that kiss will forever stick in my head as the least romantic moment of my life. What he was going to do next, we'll never know, for at that moment G-d chose to give me a little bit of help for once since I'd gotten here. What I don't understand is why he sent that particular messenger.

"Get da hell off me goil, Delancy, or you'll wish ya was nevah born!" he came in shouting like a knight in shining armor.

"You gonna hoit me, Race? You little shrimp? Ya ain't even da size of me muddah, an ya think ya gonna cause me harm? What da hell?" Oscar was shouting, but I noticed him loosening his grip from around my waist. I couldn't tell at that moment if he was ready to run or if he was getting ready to fight. Of course, that question was answered a moment later when he aimed a near perfect right hook at Race's head.

Not that it ever made it of course. "Dat's all ya got, Delancy? I mean, c'mon, I know goils dat can hit bettah den ya," Race said as he blocked the punch. He threw a much more balanced punch at Oscar's stomach, which landed perfectly on target. "Bastard!" he gasped when Oscar got him back in the jaw. He turned away for a moment to wipe the blood from his chin.

I knew my chance to square it away was now. As Oscar was preparing another move, I kicked him from behind, making him turn around. At that instant I kicked him in the "forbidden spot" and he fell to the ground in pain. I kicked him over and over again, letting out my anger towards everything. My anger over Spot, over Racetrack, over Oscar, over my stupidity, over my child, over everything all contributed to the pain I was causing Oscar. A moment later I awakened from my trance and I could hear Jack shouting at me to stop. I don't know when Jack got there, but he was pulling me away from a bleeding Oscar Delancy. He stared at me before saying, "Watch out, bitch. I'll get ya for dis!" and running into the dark.

"Dammit, Spark, what were you thinking? Now we've got to protect you from Chant an' Oscar an' we jus' got ya outta hidin'. What da hell is wrong wit' ya?" Jack was shouting once again. This time, however, I noted that it was said with a brotherly protectiveness not the anger or someone you betrayed. It was almost comforting.

But what came next was even more comforting to me. "Leave 'er 'lone, Jack. She's been through a lot an' I know I wasn' helpin' it, so I t'ink ya should leave 'er be for a while. I know I need ta talk ta 'er, if she's alright wit' dat." He stopped talking when Jack nodded and leaned over to me. "Will ya talk ta me? I t'ink we need ta clear some things up."

I only then noticed how much I had wanted to talk to Racetrack about the whole situation since the very beginning. I was too nervous over what he might say to actually speak, but I nodded my head and followed him onto the roof to talk. When we got there, all he said was, "So.."

"So what?" I asked, not sure what direction this conversation was taking.

"Why'd ya do it?" he asked.

"Ya hoit me, Race. I don' think ya understand how much ya hoit me when I saw ya wit' Tart."

"Talk in your real accent," he said.

I looked questioningly at him. "Why?"

"Because that's the Alex Conlon I fell in love with, and the one I still love today."

"You don't think I'm going to fall for a line like that, do you? Why did you abandon me and then go out with that floozy for a month?"

"I didn' know what ta do. I was scared of what would happen next. An' when ya left I needed someone, so I toined ta Tart, an', well, some t'ings happened dat I didn' mean ta happen. An' eithah way I'se happy now 'cause I know you'll forgive me."

"A little conceited now aren't we? What makes you think I'm going to forgive you and buy into your bullshit lines?"

"'Cause ya usin' ya real accent."

I knew that he was right, I was still completely in love with him. Without another word, we both leaned in for the kiss that I knew I at least had been longing for since the morning we parted. When we broke apart, I heard a crowd roaring with applause through the window. I looked and the window had been open the whole time.

Damn.

A/N: I know, I'm getting worse about updates, but I've been busy this weekend! And I had to do an entire project in two hours for tomorrow at school (thank the lord for bookrags.com and its notes on the chapters of Anne Frank). Either way, the update is now here. Let's celebrate!

Shoutouts:

Soaker: This a happy enough Racetrack chapter for you? I know, I'm evil to my characters, I make them go through so much stuff for just a little bit of happiness. I torture them, I think I should be arrested. LOL I know you didn't say any of that, but its true. XD.

Sprite: Talking head dolls? I'm just a bit scared now. LOL. I'm so glad to know you like my writing (Don't we have this conversation like once a day?) and I love yours too. Its.. tripidelic! LOL. So cool about the car by the way.

Sli: You've gone mental, you know that? And yes, I know, me a floozy. * gasp * LOL You should have come to temple with me, I had people laying on top of me and putting their arms around my shoulder so their hands reached.. well.. there. LOL It was like being back at camp except none of them were as hot as Brandon (Side note to Sprite: Yes, that is MY Brandon from Friday lol). A cape??? I want a cape!! * hands slider a cookie * There you go, little girl.

Reffy: LOL. Thank you so much for reviewing as much as you do, you're one of my like three reviewers that haven't just carried over from other stories (cough cough Sprite cough cough) or my school friends. Its great. Thanks a million for your reviews!

Drama-Queen: Yeah, he should, shouldn't he? I guess we'll see. Either way, at least she has some support from Racetrack now. But, yes, Spot is being an arse.

Tiger: Hey! * does the new reviewer jig * Glad to have a new reviewer! Hope you continue to like my story! :D.

A/N: Much love to everyone! I tell you what, everyone who reviews gets a flying desk set! (LOL I think only a handful of people (aka Sprite and Sli) will get that. Everyone who doesn't get that can have a cookie. But flying desk sets rock my socks! I love Robert Sean Leonard!