DISCLAIMER: Only Nicollet Cordelli, her parents, the high school teachers, and the names not featured in the movie Newsies belong to me. The other characters belong to Disney. Also, the food restaurants used don't belong to me. So don't sue me, k?

A.N: WOW, 14 Reviews!!! That is soooo AWESOME and it really really really made my day! Thanks so much, everybody! Yeeeeeee HAW! Shout outs to: imaginelet, Seraph, Meredith, Dreamer, Ice Renegade, sugarNspice, Isabelle Gibson, spatz, Apollonia, unnamed, Kate Lawrence, ember, Dimples, and Technicolor Dreamgirl! THANK YOU! Please keep 'em rolling in!

*Confessions*

~~~Spot stared at the two paragraphs he had typed for an essay which counted as one third of his semester grade and slammed his fist onto the keyboard. "Only six more pages to go," he said between clenched teeth. But as he readied his fingers to type more sentences he found himself slowly drifting away. He couldn't remember a time when he felt more tired. It was already pass one o'clock in the morning, and he hadn't even started on his other homework earlier in the day!

Not that he had a reasonable excuse. At least not one any teacher would accept. Nicollet had called him an hour or so after school had let out and had kept him on the line for nearly five hours; he didn't even know how that was possible, seeing how they hadn't talked about anything in particular, just whatever random thought came to mind. But he wasn't complaining. Time spent with her wasn't time wasted.

He rubbed his eyes and then looked back at the screen before him, a pitiful specimen of essays his English teacher would collect tomorrow. He felt ready to just feign a stomach sickness and stay home from school, but that probably wouldn't be too clever. Ms. Stewart would deduct fifty points from his grade if he turned the assignment in late. With a sigh, he saved his work and decided he would have to simply wake up early tomorrow morning and finish the essay.

He set his alarm clock for 5 a.m., changed into the flannel pajamas Nicollet had bought him last Christmas, and collapsed onto his bed as if he hadn't slept in days. The pillow felt so soft under his head and the mattress beneath him so inviting. He brought his quilt closer against him, closed his eyes, and let a much-needed slumber come to him.

He was dreaming about receiving a one million dollar check from the state governor for rescuing an animal from a tree when his cell phone rang. He curled his pillow around his ears and tried to drain the noise out, but whoever was calling persisted by ringing again. "Daaamn," he muttered.

Throwing the bed covers, he crawled under them in search of the jeans he had carelessly tossed aside last night, solely guided by the annoying 'Fur Elise' melody that was his phone's ring. He finally located the object in the back pocket of the discarded pants, but when he answered it, the caller had already hung up. "Ugh!" He thought to crawl back to his pillow. His body wouldn't budge, though, so he merely laid his head down right where he was.

The phone rang again. His eyes shot open with a sleep-deprived rage. He accepted the call, brought the phone to his ear, and yelled a "WHAT?" that surprisingly didn't wake up the rest of his family.

"Spot?"

"Nikki? Is that you?" He pressed the phone harder against his ear; she was barely audible. Lifting himself up onto his elbows, his attention had finally been gained. "What's the matter? Are you alright?"

"Spot, can you come over? Please? My parents just had this huge fight, they were screaming and everything. My mom's in the kitchen bawling her eyes out, my dad left, it's all screwed up! Please, Spot? I really need you..."

Spot glanced back at the time on his alarm clock, the red numbers still blurry as his eyes adjusted to the grogginess he was still feeling. "Baby, it's 2:25 in the morning. Can't this wait until tomorrow? Just get some rest and I'll pick you up for school at the usual time, and then we'll have a nice long talk about it, okay?"

There was a long pause, a deafening silence broken seconds later by a sound that was unmistakable. On the other line, Nicollet began to cry. Softly at first, but the pain behind each sob grew in intensity and eventually the girl had to cover her mouth with a hand.

"Nikki, what's the matter? Are you crying?"

She tried to stabilize her voice, but her final plea came out shakily. "Please, Spot?"

He certainly couldn't turn her down now that she was crying! He told her he'd be there in a few minutes, hung up with her, and then threw the phone across the room with a groan. "Nikki, you're going to kill me one of these days," he grumbled to himself. He rolled himself out of his bed before he'd fall asleep again and thought upon something. Nicollet had countless times asked him to sleep over, had even slept over his place as well, but she had never come to him like this...pleading with him, making it seem like she would crumble to ruins if he didn't grant her request. She had always been strong.

What could possibly be wrong?

~*~*~*~*~

Nicollet sat cross-legged on her bed, hugging a stuff animal to her chest as if it were the only protection she could result to at a time like this. She tried to erase the memories from her mind, the screaming and hollering and cursing, but her efforts were all in vain, and she wished more than ever that her body would find sleep so that she might rest and perhaps never awake into her present turmoil. She supposed that was too much to ask for, however.

She heard someone approaching the outside of her closed door then and immediately put on an angered expression, not knowing why she wished her mother to see her so. It certainly wasn't the woman's fault her father had left, so how could Nicollet blame her? But broken-hearted as she was, her mind couldn't quite make that connection and so she was ready to lash out at just about anyone.

The doorknob turned slowly and she awaited her mother with a glare, but as the door little by little swung open, where there should've been deep brown eyes there were blue ones instead, deep and filled with concern. It was Spot!

Nicollet didn't greet him with words but instead jumped to her feet, rushed over to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face onto his chest. Spot in turn pulled her closer to him and kissed her hair. "Aww, Nikki, what'sa matter?" He nudged her back at arm's length and frowned at her reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

He'd never seen her like this before; completely vulnerable and weak. The last time she had exhibited such attributes was when her Dalmatian dog had passed away, but they were both eleven at the time and such things were understandable. Since then, though, Nicollet had always boxed up her feelings, refusing to show the slightest emotion to anyone, lest it be anger or happiness.

"Spot, he left! My dad just left. He didn't even say goodbye! What makes him think he can do that, huh? I can't believe how big of an ass he's being! He could've stayed and worked things out...and then my mom! She doesn't even try to get him to stay! It was like she didn't care!" She was freely speaking in between sobs now, countless tears streaming down her face like rainwater escaping from the heavens. Throwing her hands in the air, she sighed in frustration. "How could they do this to each other? They were in love! What happened?"

"Sometimes people fall out of love," Spot replied. He wasn't quite sure what this situation called him to do. He was always bad at offering condolences. After all, he'd never had the practice. Nicollet had always been a ruffian, tough and unrelenting. Never before had he needed to be the compassionate type. She was even wiping her own tears away, leaving him with nothing to do for her.

"It's so unfair!"

He remained where he was, feeling for some reason a bit uncomfortable. Here was his girlfriend, who also happened to be his best friend, weeping for circumstances out of her control and all he could do was...absolutely nothing. It would've been easier with any other girl but with Nicollet, things just spun to a different beat. She spoke again, wrenching him from his thoughts.

"Are you sleeping over?"

"I probably shouldn't," he said slowly, so that she wouldn't think he was trying to brush her off. "I've got an essay to finish in the morning and a bed to get in before my parents realize I'm missing." He smiled at her, but she didn't return the expression.

Instead, she stepped closer to him, caressed his cheek with a hand, and then drew his lips into a kiss that instantly cleared his mind of any priorities he had originally set before coming over her house. He hated that power she had over him! It drove him wild with lust and stirred an obsession he couldn't suppress no matter what he tried to do. So instead of going against it, he willingly fueled the action.

Nicollet's heart skipped a beat when she felt Spot's tongue run across her lips and then enter her mouth with means to seduce her, moving expertly and arousing sensations all over her body. He began pressing farther, causing her to walk backwards until she could feel a side of her bed against her legs. Without hesitation, Spot leaned her back onto the mattress, his lips never once leaving hers, and straddled her once she was situated.

He smirked down at her. "You're pretty sexy when you're all depressed like this, ya know that?" Nicollet shoved him off her, but had to laugh at the comment for its truth. She reached for the teddy bear she had earlier been holding and ran a hand down its velvety fur, the simple act sparking memories of her united family. How would she deal now that her father had left?

Spot saw the unasked question in her eyes. He pulled himself into a sitting position with his back against the bed's headboard and tugged on Nicollet's hand so that she'd sit on his lap, but she rather chose to sit between his legs, resting her own back against his chest and wrapping his arms around her.

"What if the same thing happens to us, Spot? What if we fall in love and then years later start hating each other? I mean, we don't think it'd happen cause we say we're different and all, but how can you be so sure? What if it does happen?"

He sighed; he knew it was coming. He knew sooner or later she would start comparing her parents' relationship with theirs. "It's not going to happen." What else could he say? It's not like he could predict the future; he was merely trying to be optimistic.

Surprisingly, she didn't continue with the questions after that, and whether it was because his answer comforted her or because she was simply tired, Spot didn't know. He was hoping it was a mixture of both.

"Can you stay with me, just until I fall asleep? I don't want to be alone..." She turned to face him, her chocolate eyes pleading with him for his company.

Spot knew at that instant that he'd do anything for the girl, especially those things that didn't have an ounce of rationality in them. It was just something in the way he felt about her, something in the way she made him feel. "Of course I'll stay." They kissed twice more before falling asleep in each other's arms.

~*~*~*~*~

"I just don't understand it! Here I am peacefully asleep in my bed and my son is dallying about the neighborhood in his pajamas at all hours of the night because his best friend asked him to!?" Mrs. Conlon crossed her arms and aimed those terrifying motherly eyes at Spot in obvious frustration and disbelief.

"Mom, her parents were breaking up and she needed me..."

"When are her parents NOT breaking up? Those two have been at it for years now, Merryll. Do you really think that's an excuse? Do you think that means you can leave this house whenever you want without our permission?!"

Spot rolled his eyes and groaned. His mother was infamous for blowing things out of proportion and yelling about discipline for hours. He focused his eyes back to his bowl of Cheerios and waited.

Mr. Conlon was the next one to speak. "Who is this friend anyways?"

"Nicollet Cordelli," replied his wife, the name escaping her lips in a hiss, as if it were poison. "The girl who broke one of our windows when she and Merryll were playing baseball a few summers ago." She still held a grudge from that day on; one of her favorite sculptures had shattered from the ball's impact.

"Yea," affirmed Lucas, "and Merryll's going out with her now!"

Spot threw a menacing look at his cousin; leave it to Lucas to open his big mouth! Clenching his fist, he mouthed an *I'm going to murder you* to the boy. He had no doubt that it was Lucas who had ratted out on him. Since the Conlons only owned one alarm clock, it was placed in Spot's room, for he was the earliest riser. Therefore, it was Spot's duty to in turn wake up Lucas across the hall, but if Spot wasn't even home he couldn't complete the task, thus causing an annoyed Lucas to wake up late, discover that his cousin was missing, and complain to the parental units.

"I know you're not going out with that girl, Merryll!" Mrs. Conlon looked like a volcano about to unleash hell on all near. "See what it all leads to! What exactly were you doing over there last night? Let me tell you something, if you think you're man enough to start making your own decisions, thinking it won't in the least bit affect us, you can pack your bags and leave this house right now!"

"Carol, don't you think you're over-exaggerating? Merryll's our son. We're not going to put him out just because he makes poor choices in life. We have to be here for him always."

"Why are you both acting like Nikki's some juvenile delinquent on parole?" Spot exclaimed. "She's my best friend; she's been my best friend since sixth grade already! You both are acting like she's getting me into drugs or something!"

"There's more than one thing she can get you into!" his mother snapped.

Lucas grinned back at her appreciatively. "Auntie Carol, that was slick!"

The woman ignored him, though. Her eyes were focused on Spot. "You know what? From now on, you're riding the bus to school. That car can sit in the garage from now on for all I care." Spot was about to protest but she held up a hand to silence him. "Also, we're taking the t.v. and computer out of your room, and these Friday night hangouts of yours, well you can say goodbye to those too."

Spot's jaw dropped open. This was going too far. He couldn't believe he was being punished for being with Nicollet in her time of need! His mother was making it sound as if he had impregnated the girl! "You're not even listening to me!" he nearly yelled. "I only went there because she was crying and wanted some company! She hates it when her parents fight!"

"And it couldn't wait until this morning, Merryll?" He sat back defeated. "And don't you dare raise your voice at me, young man! I'm your mother; you'll show me respect. The same respect you show Nicollet by going over her house pass midnight as if you're some after-hours hooligan!"

Rolling his eyes, he rose to his feet and proceeded to exit the kitchen when something occurred to him. "The bus already left; I'll have to take my car for today."

His mother shook her head. "Nope, that just means you'll have to walk."

"But that means Lucas will have to walk to."

"Your father will drive him. If you hurry, you'll only be thirty minutes late to your first class. Have a good day, honey. And don't let this happen again, hmm?"

Spot glared at her back as she turned to wash the dishes and looked to his father for a way out, but the man only shrugged. Then his eyes fell to Lucas, who was sitting with arms folded onto the table and lips forming a sinister grin. Spot flicked him off when Mr. Conlon wasn't looking and then slammed the door shut on his way out the house.

~*~*~*~*~

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