Hey all! Holy bloody hell, long time no update, eh? Sorry, my computer was being a total jackass. No fear, new comp and new chapter. Can ya all forgive me? Whoever does can keep my Legolas muse for one night. He's no good as a muse, but I doubt he'd be used for such anyway...

*14*

I'm crying like a little bitch, but do you think I care? My fuckin' nose is probably broken! Fuck, all I wanted to do was talk to Spot, what do I get greeted with? A fist colliding with my nose! Shit. Ow, toe in my ribs. And again. Damn he's vicious for a little guy.

"Stop!," I blubber like a little girl. He reels his foot back buy pauses. "What did I do?"

"You been messin' with my girl?"

I try to get my brain to function to run over the names and faces of the girls I know. Which one was Spot's again? Magic... no, only on occasional nights. Queenie... wait, Skylar. "Huh?"

He kicks me again, "You messin' with my girlfriend?"

"N- no, Spot, man. No."

"How'd you get this?" A familiar looking bar is tossed at me. I look at it a moment through pain blurred vision. It's the one Skylar gave me when we were all caught by Medda.

"She gave me it."

"For what?" he looks close to foaming at the mouth. "For a good lay? Huh? Did you touch her?"

Briefly my mind flickers back to Skittery sharing blankets with Skylar, both being quite active under said coverings. Shit, am I getting the hell beaten outta me over Skittery? "No, I didn't touch her. It's on my list of tasks, Skylar and a few others are just trying to help me out."

Spot eyes me a long minute, his hand flies towards me and I duck as I prepare for another blow. He grabs me by one hand and yanks me to my feet, "You have better me sure, Davey boy."

"I am," I press the sleeve of my uniform under my free flowing nose. "Spot... I, uh, I once over heard that you refused to do Jack's Loser List."

He narrows deadly eyes at me, "Who told ya?"

"Just over heard some kids talking."

"What else they say?"

"Nothing. I didn't stick around. I wanna know what Jack did to you. I don't think I can complete this list without getting me or some others expelled. So I need to know just what Jack has in store for me."

"And what makes you so sure he did shit to me? I'm Spot Conlon. I'm the fuckin' Price of Brooklyn. How are you so suer I didn't beat the shit outta Cowboy and he left it at that."

"Well... did ya?"

He's quiet and studying me. I don't think Spot likes me much. Not by the way he glares at me or looks like he wants to put out a cigarette on my face. "Jack's a piece of shit."

My mouth falls wide open. Huh? By the way Jack talked, you'd have thought Spot was his bestfriend in the world. But if you paid real close attention to them, you could see the tension there. The forced smiles, not so playful jabs, glares behinds the other's back; Polecat and Ruin pointed this all out to me.

"He's a dick," Spot continues. "He makes up these ridiculous lists just to watch others fail. Half the shit is completely impossible to do. Everyone does it one way or another, which always lands them in more trouble than they were in when they first got here. It's a power trip for him. He intimidates real well."

"But he didn't you, right?"

"Nah, not me," a ghost of a smirk plays over his lips. "I threw his list right back in his face. Made a name for myself outside of Brooklyn. I stood up to one of Manhattan's biggest boys and didn't give a shit. Jack wasn't gonna have that."

I pulled my sleeve from my nose, a big blood stain but it seems to have slowed down. "It's not broke," Spot mutters.

"So, what'd he do to you?"

He went silent, his eyes staring into blank air. "He got the revenge he wanted; ruined my image."

I was growing impatient as spot left me hanging in anxiety, "How exactly?"

"In my dorm, at night, Kid was just my room mate then. He slides a fuckin' pillow case over my head while I'm asleep. Damn guy watched too many Mafia movies," he chuckles dryly a moment. "I was dragged through school and outside. Race and Jack were there with another guy whose left now. I was bare foot and the pulled me through a foot of snow.

"Next thing, my shirts pulled off and my pants down. They have a marker, a black permanent one, I could tell my the smell. Someone drags it over my ass in attempts to write something. Mean while, the three others are holding me in a vice grip. They left me all night tied securely to the flag pole.

The next morning was a field trip to see the Statue of Liberty. More than half the school saw me. Wanna know what was written on my ass? 'My Bitch.' Fucking dick!"

I jump a foot away as Spot's fist aims for the wall. It makes a solid thud sound and I can tell he's holding back the pain it cased him. I also swallow a huge lump in my throat. Damn, if Jack had effected this Brooklyn big boy so bad, what the hell did he have in store for me?

"Finish that list Davey, don't fuckin' let him show you up."

Someone comes bounding into the room then, my attention snaps from Spot to the face I've grown to want, love, hate and more. "Hey, Dave, nice nose bleed. Been' playin' nice with the new guy, huh, Spot?"

"Um, I gotta go, " I back towards the door. Jack grins and winks at me, Spot meets me with his icy gaze. He doesn't say anything more, but I know his thoughts. They're telling me I need to complete Jack's list, I need to prove to this school Jack isn't the idol he's made of himself. I need to do this, or else Spot will do alot worse to me then Jack, Blink and Race could ever come up with.

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Whoo! Done! Well, with this chap at lease. Look for chapter 15 in another two months! Hah, I kid. Don't throw sharp pointy objects at me! *ducks the pointy object thrown.*

Also, I feel kinda rusty after not doing any real writing (or writing on this) in a bit. So I hope it doesn't sound that way.