Disclaimer: I claim no rights to the characters or the places mentioned in the story. All that is Disney's is Disney's, and all that is mine is mine. This disclaimer holds true for all chapters posted, or to be posted of this story. I also take no claims to the lyrics posted through this fiction, they aren't mine and they never will be. They are the works of someone else's genius and no infringement is intended.
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A/N: The following is Frost's story, it starts as Frost speaking the story in first person narrative then morphs into a third person story telling form. Having Frost just narrate a long story from first person seemed terribly boring and dull to read, so I am trying something else. I hope it doesn't confuse you, so I just thought I would warn y'all….
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Warning: This chapter is rated PG-13 for language, violence, death, and adult situations.
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Chapter 5: Mutual Attraction
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//You're working,
Building a mystery,
Holding on, holding it in,
You're working,
Building a mystery…//
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The unfinished room, Brooklyn lodging house
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Through a dirty window, the faint glow of a single lamp was visible. Two silhouettes move silently against the second story glass pane as a random passerby observes them. One of a figure of a girl and another of a short boy, both were moving slowly, carefully, as though they were attempting to be as silent as the night itself. Uninterested by them, the walker passed on, not knowing what great secrets were yet to be told.
Inside that window, Spot and Frost sat on the sheet, the content of the cloth bundle open on her lap, Spot's eyes wide. As the lamp light shone, eerily reflecting the two, the planes and the angles accentuated by the contrasts of light and dark. The shadow play was intriguing, but that wasn't what held Spot's attention. It was the girl that sat next to him, staring down at the past in her lap.
"It all started t'ree yeahs ago when I cames ta New Yawk," she spoke in a very calm, distant voice as she began her story. "I'd won da ticket heah in a pokah match an' I needed a change so I t'ought why da hell not?"
"Wheah weah yous befoah?" Spot interrupted and Frost gave him a withering stare.
"I'se tellin' my stoahy, an' I'se only goin' ta tell ya whot I want ta," she clarified. "Dis is 'bout me an New Yawk," Spot put his hands up as if to shield off her hard words, and she returned to staring back down at her lap, her face a mask of concentration, her hands gripping the golden cross at her throat. "I got off dat train, an' dats when it all stahted…."
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The Bronx train station
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No one paid attention to the young girl with piercing dark eyes as she stepped off of the train, all of her worldly belonging in a knapsack at her side. Her features weren't ones that would draw much attention. The curves of her body only starting to develop in her adolescence, the sharp planes and angles of her face creating contrasts that were almost too defined. The nose on her face at one point might have been small and well shaped, but now it looked as though someone had struck her and broken it. Her black eyes glittered behind dark lashes as she strode across the wooden boarding deck.
It was much different here than where she had last been and the change was welcome. The city was huge and she imagined that no matter how many enemies she made here, she would always be able to hide. Walking down the side of the busy dirt road, she noted how everyone seemed to be in such a hurry to get somewhere. The carriages, the roar of the people, the cry of some boy on a street corner selling papers, it was the last that she was looking for.
"Hey boy!" She called, lifting the skirt above her knees she ran across the street, dodging traffic. "Hey you, boy!" she yelled again as she approached him. "You're a newsies aren't you?" She asked when she had his attention and he looked at her with disbelief.
"Yeah, I'se a newsie," he answered somewhat sarcastically. "Whot's it ta yous?"
"I want to be a newsie with your borough," she informed and he laughed.
"You wants ta be a newsie?" he threw his head back and laughed hysterically. Crossing her arms across her chest, the girl waiting for him to finish laughing. Several people in the crowd around her turned the head as the walked by to see what the young man found so comical, but found nothing but a very perturbed looking girl. Finally, wiping tears from his eyes, the boys regained his composure.
"Are you quite through?" She asked indignantly.
"Yeah," he gasped, holding his side with one hand and his stack of papers in the other.
"Good, because I wanted to give you this," She drew back her fist and hit him firmly across the jaw, the initial blow was followed by the other fist and delivered her hand strongly into his gut. The sound of the air wheezing out of his lungs was enough reward for the girl and she waited again for him to straighten before continuing. "I want to be a newsie," She stated again. "Where do I need to go?" This time, the boy merely pointed.
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"The Bronx Lodging House," she read the tarnished plaque on the building. "This is my stop," she took a deep breath and ascended the steps to the door. When she reached it, she paused, brushing off the front of her skirt, running a hand over her mussed chestnut hair, and wiped the back of her sleeve across her face. It came off covered with grimy black suet from the train. Her whole body was covered with it and she knew, but no was no time to worry over vanity.
Opening the door she stepped inside the dingy building. If the tarnish marker and the crumbling front steps and front landing were any indication that this place was in need of repair, they did the place injustice. The place needed to be torn down and rebuilt from the ground up, it looked as though it was ready to fall apart at the slightest misstep of abuse. A portly man around forty looked up from behind the front desk, he set down the paper that he had been reading and stood.
"Can I help ya miss?" He asked, the girl automatically took the comb over of hair across the balding top and the flushed red cheeks. Obviously the heat of the New York summer wasn't agreeing with the man.
"Yes," she answered firmly. "I'm here for a bed," she informed. "How much is it to board in the dump?"
"I'se sorry Miss, but dis heah place if foah da newsies," he motioned the to the surroundings and the girl sighed.
"I am a newsie," she explained.
"Yous a newsie?" The man's eyebrows shot to the sky. "But yous a goil!"
"Yes, I am," the girl dug into her knapsack and pulled out a small purse, taking out a dime she put it on the desk in front of him. "A days board can't be any more than a dime," she reasoned.
"It's five cents a night, but miss, dere ain't no special place foah goils heah…" he drifted off. "Dere's just boys heah, ain't ya got anoddah place yous can stay?" He seemed unsure what to do. The rules of the boarding house was that you had to pay your own board and you had to be a newsie, never was there ever said anything about you having to be male.
"I've been with boys before," The girl said plainly. "And if they try anything, I teach them a good hard lesson," the man didn't like the gleam in her dark eyes as she said those words.
"Fightin' ain't allowed in da lodgin' house," he said frankly.
"Then I'll take them outside," she negotiated relentlessly. "So do I just go up and pick a bunk or do you show me where I stay?" She tapped her foot impatiently and the man came out from behind the desk.
"Oh yes, this way," he started up the creaking stairs one at a time. The man's weight was protested greatly by the old warped boards. When they were at the top, the large man turned and went down another long hallway, muttering things under his breath, and the girl guessed it was about the stupidity of a girl being a newsie. Biting her tongue she waited as the man opened the door into a large room that had a few dozen bunk beds all lined up in two tight rows. The wooden frames of the beds also looked as rotted and decrepit as the rests of the building.
"I ain't shuah whot bunks ah taken an' whot bunks ain't," he informed. "Yous'll havta wait foah some o' da boys ta come back," he wiped his hand over her sweaty forehead. "Dat door dere goes to da bat'room," he pointed to the door directly across the hall. "Yous'll havta shah it wit' da boys," he watched her carefully for any flicker of disgust or hesitation.
"I've done it before, and I'll do it again," she answered simply. "Thank you," with her money already deposited, she waited for the man to leave before she went into the bathroom. Right now might be the only time she would have to take a bath for a long time. All of the other times the boys would be here and now was the time that she needed the bath the most.
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The evening came as it always did, and so did the newsboys. The loud chatter of the few boys that entered consisted mainly of what they were planing on doing now that they were finished with their selling. Unfortunately, whatever their plans had been for the evening would be completely shot when they came in the door of the bunkroom. A girl was sitting in the middle of the room, her long damp chestnut hair hanging loose and she rose when the boys came into the room.
All of the first boys that had seen her had stopped in the doorway, obstructing the view for the other boys. The shock of seeing a female in the midst of the their masculine domain was starling at least. Annoyed at the delay to their entrance of the room, the boys behind the others pushed them through the door only to come to much of a same fate as their predecessors.
"Whot ah yous doin' heah?" One finally managed to spit out.
"I'm a newsie," the girl responded with great flare.
"Like hell yous ah," one of the boys snorted, the outrageous claim causing all of them to stifle laughter.
"I am," she walked up to them coolly, straightening to her full height and still coming up several inches short of the smallest boy. "And there isn't anything you can do about it," she turned and began to walk away when a hand clamped around her arm.
"Wait jus' a second," it was the first boy who had spoken, he had white-blonde hair that fell in silken waves around his face. His eyes were as light as hers were dark and the grip that he had on her arm was testament to his physical strength. "No one said dat yous can be a newsie," he told her.
"No one has to, I've paid my board and will sell my papers weather you like it or not," she kept up her cool front.
"I'se da leadah 'round heah, an' whot I says goes, an' I ain't goin' ta 'ave no goil bein' a newsie," he spat out the word girl like profanity.
"I didn't know that having a girl as a newsie would be so threatening," her dark eyes flashed the challenge.
"It ain't threatenin'," The leader protested.
"Then why is it a problem?" The girl raised her eyebrow.
"Cause," The leader searched for a reason. "Yous ain't a boy," he struggled for another reason but couldn't find one.
"I paid for my night here, now will you show me what bed I can have, or will I just have to take one?" she kept his gaze steadily even though many would have shriveled under it.
"Fine," he growled, and let go of her arm. "Yous can stay ovah dere," he pointed to the lone single bed in the corner.
"Thank you," she smiled victoriously and flounced over to her sack of the things, retrieved them, then took them to the bed closest to the wall where he had indicated.
An awkward period ensued. Well awkward for the boys at least. The girl didn't seem to be having any trouble with this, but they seemed unsure how to react to the female invading their area. They shuffled around, scuffing the toes of their boots on the floorboards, fiddling with their suspenders, all of them casting shaded glances at the female. None of them said anything. The girl finally noticed them and looked over at the group of seven boys or so.
"Pretend I'm not here," she said indignantly, and the boys looked stupidly at each other. "Go on!" she made a waving motion with her hands. "Play poker, curse, spit, do whatever you did before I was here," she instructed and they looked at her blankly. "Act normal dammit!" she exclaimed and they seemed surprised that she would use profanity. Rolling her eyes she went right up to the smallest of the boys whom was still about five inches taller than her. "What's your name?" she asked.
"Mahbles," he watched her carefully.
"Well Marbles," She stated. "Do you play poker?" She held up a worn deck of cards held together only by apiece of old string.
"Yeah," he nodded.
"Wanna play?" She offered and he looked at her stupidly. "Fine," she put two hands firmly on his shoulders and pushed him to the ground. "You," she pointed. "Do you play poker?" the boy nodded and took his place next to the stupefied Marbles, and so the process went. She went around the whole room until every boy was sitting in the circle except for the leader. He leaned back against one of the beds, eyeing her skeptically.
"Whot if dey don' wanna play pokah?" he asked evenly.
"They weren't doing anything else," the girl sat in the circle, leaving a space open next to her. "And you aren't either," she pointed out. "Would you care to join?"
"Nah, I'se good," he crossed his arms over his chest.
"You can't play poker?" she guessed.
"I nevah said dat."
"Then why don't you want to play?"
"Cause I'se not intahested," he scowled.
"Are you afraid that a girl would beat you?" she challenged and his eyes narrowed dangerously.
"I ain't scahed o' nuttin'," he informed.
"Then play," she insisted, and grumbling, the blonde boy took his place next to her.
That was the last of the conversation for the next long time as they played a game of five-card draw. Each of them sat cross-legged, the girl's skirt hitched up over her knees, and the excess material tucked into her lap. The betting wasn't very high, but it was a fair sum in the pot when the final game was down to the leader and the girl.
"She ain't goin' ta win," Marbles whispered to the boy next to him and he nodded in agreement.
"Four of a kind," the girl proclaimed, laying down the hand she held, showing that she had all four of the queens.
"Straight," the leader said in a defeated tone and the girl started to collect her winnings when the leader grabbed her wrist. "Flush," he added and a smile pulled his mouth into a wide grin. His eyes flashed with merriment of the victory as he looked into hers and she yanked her wrist from his grasp, the cool mask coming into place.
"Congratulations," she smiled warmly, but even the warmth had a hint of ice.
"T'ank yous," he answered courteously. "I'se glad yous made me play," he added.
"I am too," she told him and the group seemed stunned by that answer.
Several more boys had been coming in while the game of poker had been in session and were overly curious about the new girl. The questions began to fly in earnest as the leader finished gathering his winnings. People asked why she was here, whose girl she was, what her name was, where she was from and a multitude of other questions. None of them were answered very accurately for not a single one of the boys actually asked the girl. Having had enough of the loud torrent of questions, the leader stood, raised to fingers to his mouth and let out a piercing whistle, the group silenced instantly.
"Shaddup an' listen!" He ordered, then turned to the girl who was still sitting on the floor. Extending his hand, he assisted her to her feet, then released her hand and turned to face. "We'se got some questions foah yous," he told her. "Whot's youah name?" he asked.
"Actress," she said simply.
"Fine, I'se Hook," he introduced himself and then turned back to the boys. "Any oder questions?"
"Why's she heah?"
"She's heah ta be a newsie," a boy from the back piped up and the group turned to see a boy with a large black bruise on his jaw. "We met oilier," he explained, and now it was Actress's turn to laugh.
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The unfinished room, Brooklyn lodging house
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"Yous sold wit' Hook?" Spot interrupted again.
"Yes," Frost rolled her eyes and then glared at him for disturbing her story telling. "Dis was 'is knife," She picked up the sheathed knife and drew it out of its cover. The curved blade glinted menacingly in the lamplight.
"Dat's Hook's hook?" Spot pointed and Frost gave him another glare.
"Yes!" She exclaimed. "Can I'se get back ta tellin' my stoahy?" She asked permission with a sarcastic tone.
"Only if yous t'ink yous ready to," Spot missed the sarcasm and listened.
"Weeks went by," Frost started again. "Hook didn' get along too good till dis one day, he took me ta dis one pahk…."
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//You're so beautiful,
With an edge and a charm,
You're so careful,
When im in your arms…//
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The Bronx City Park
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"Look, I ain't done nuttin' wrong," Actress insisted, pushing her long braid back over her shoulder, her newly acquired New York accent firmly in place. The spring was quickly fading into summer and it was definitely starting to heat up around the Bronx.
"I knows you ain't done nuttin' wrong," Hook said simply.
"Den why'd yous bring me heah?" She motioned to the still greening foliage around them, the trees standing tall, the flowers still blooming in the milder heat before the scorching heat would wither them.
"Ta talk," he answered with a careless manner, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"Ta talk?" Actress echoed, her eyes instantly going from roaming their pretty surroundings to the boy's face.
"Yeah," he looked at the path in front of them. "I t'ink dat we'se got off on da wrong foot an' we'se need ta staht ovah," he sounded very sincere. "Aftah all, I'se da leadah, an' whotevah I says goes," he added the little authoritative bit.
"Ah yous feelin' a'ight?" She stopped and looked at him.
"Yeah, I'se fine, why?" he halted likewise and faced her.
"Yous actin' strange," she studied him in the afternoon light. He was a handsome boy, but not so much to attract unnoted attention. A long scar ran down his left cheek and his nose was a bit too long, but besides that, he was good looking. A strong jaw, piercing eyes, a wide mobile mouth, the shaggy blonde hair almost white in the light, and his skin just as blonde as his hair.
"Why'd ya say dat?" he fidgeted nervously.
"Cause, yous been fightin' wit' me since da foist day I'se been heah," she crossed her arms across her chest as she looked up at him. "An' now you wants ta be my friend?"
"Yeah," he shrugged.
"Dere's somet'ing else isn't dere?" she asked skeptically and her eyes widened as he took a few steps closer.
"If I'se told you dere was somet'ing else, whot would you say?" he pried and Frost took a few steps back, moving off of the path and backing against a tree.
"Depends of whot da somet'ing else was," she turned her head to see what she had ran into, then swiveled her head back to see that Hook was standing directly in front of her again. She was trapped.
"I wants yous ta sell wit' me," he proposed.
"Whot?" she gasped, caught off guard.
"I wants yous ta sell wit' me," he repeated. "I wants ta get ta know yous bettah," he explained.
"Why?" she breathed as he moved closer.
"Cause," he muttered bending over. "I'se da leadah," he breathed against her mouth. "An' whot I says goes," with that, he pressed his lips softly to hers. Even with such a gentle kiss, a shiver was sent down Actress's spine, the surprise of the sudden turn of the conversation was startling and she looked up at him warily as he pulled away.
"Whot was dat?" She asked stupidly as he stepped back.
"A kiss," he answered simply and held his hand out to her. "Let's go," he instructed as she hesitantly took his hand. "We'se got a lot ta talk 'bout," he smiled and they walked down the path together in the gentle light of the late spring afternoon. The birds seemed to sing a little bit sweeter and the sun shone the slightest bit brighter for the young lovers as they progressed down a different path entirely. The path of young love.
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// Maybe there's a God above,
And all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone,
Who outdrew you…//
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The summer went by and everything was blissfully simple. No bumps in the road, and no diversions, the fourth of July came and went with a bang. Fireworks were set off and Actress and Hook both went to see them. They had walked through Queens to Manhattan, to see the annual fireworks display. The fireworks in the sky weren't the only ones that were going off as the two young hearts united as one in the simplest of kisses.
The days ticked off of the calendar one by one and Hook and Actress were becoming well known as the best selling pair in the whole New York area. Together, they moved two hundred papers a day without a problem. Their romance also was holding a reputation for Hook had been known as quite a womanizer before Actress had come along and put him on the straight and narrow. Anyone who could take one of the best known skirt chasers of the New York newsies and reform him had to be quite amazing.
It was in October when things began to fall apart. The boys around the lodging house had been complaining about Hook's leadership, and his power was quickly waning. The fall weather was fading into winter with a rapidity that all the boys dreaded and out them in even a fouler mood. Loyalties were switched, promises were broken and soon it was brought down to a battle. Two sides had been forming, one behind Hook and one behind the boy Actress had first met when she got there, the one she had punched. His name was Tips.
The crisp autumn night was filled with hints of winter as the group of boys stood in a circle around the two leaders. The city seemed to be deserted, the bulls were no where to be seen as the two faced off. The tears she brought forth had been meaningless and she knew who would be the winner of this fight. Hook had been sick even though no one else knew, he hadn't told her either, but she knew.
The knifes were out now as the two circled, the boys calling out profanity, one boy who she knew as Gambler held her back. Gambler was one of the few that were still faithful to Hook through it all. Burying her face in his chest she didn't watch the fight, she wouldn't, she couldn't. The cheer of the boys told her than a winner had been decided. Peeking out from the safe shelter that she had constructed for herself, she saw that Hook was on the ground.
"No!" she cried out and tore herself away from Gambler. "No," she whispered as she knelt over Hook's fallen body, turning him over on his back so she could see his face. A terrible red stain was forming on the front of his shirt where he had been stabbed and she vainly pressed her hands against it. The wind whipped through the boys as they congratulated their new leader. "No," she pressed her face against her love's chest, hoping to hear the heartbeat that signified his life. It was faint, but it was there.
Bravely, she wiped away her tears and looked down into Hook's face. It was battered and bloody, but she cradled his head against her lap, the blood from her fingers getting into his white-blonde hair and staining it. He opened his blue eyes and looked around deliriously as she tried hard not to cry for him. He wouldn't have wanted her to cry.
"Act," he rasped, trying to smile, but she lent over and quickly pressed her mouth to his.
"No," she whispered. "Don't try ta talk, you needs youah strength," she was oblivious to the fact that Gambler was there with her now, putting pressure on Hook's wound. "Youah goin' ta be jus' fine," she sniffled, forcing back the tears. "Just you wait and see, you's goin' ta be jus' fine," she ran her fingers through his hair and he tried to smile, but it turned into a grimace.
"I ain't stupid," he was breathing heavily now and he raised a shaky hand that still held his knife. "When I dies -" he started but she cut him off.
"You ain't going ta die," she shook her head violently. "We'se goin' ta get yous a doctah an' den evahy t'ing will be jus' fine," she took his free hand between both of hers and pressed it too her face, it was cold. "Yous'll see, evahy t'ing will be fine."
"Take dis," he handed her his knife. "I wan' yous ta have it," he coughed, his breath rattling in his chest as the end came nearer. "I love yous," he smiled as his head bobbed to the side and his hand dropped, not having the energy to control them anymore.
"You ain't goin' ta die," Actress repeated frantically. "You's goin' ta be jus' fine," she looked down at the wound to see that it had stopped leaking blood, and then she saw Gambler there, pressing his blood covered hand over his friend's heart. She met his eyes and he shook his head.
"He's gone," Gambler rasped and Actress looked back at her love's face. His eyes were halfway open, but glazed and unseeing, the rise and fall of his chest was stopped and the tears blinded her again.
"No…" she whispered. "No," She looked down at the knife in her hand, the life-blood staining it and he hand. "No!" she yelled and dropped the knife into the dirt, clutching Hook's face in her hands. "Yous goin' ta be a'ight remembah?" she whispered. "Yous an' me, we'se goin' ta be togethah foah a long time," she jerked when Gambler's hand was on her shoulder.
"We'se gotta get outta heah," he told her.
"No…" she refused. "He can't be dead," she traced her bloodied fingers over his face, as if she was trying to memorize every line, ever plane, every nuance of his appearance.
"We'se can' stay heah," he pulled her to her feet and she struggled violently
"Lemme go! Lemme go!" She cried again and again, now seeing that the whole group of boys had left them alone. The terrible brutality of the situation struck her. Leaders were disposable. If they weren't appealing to the group anymore, they just found someone else to rally behind and rid themselves of the old one. "He ain't dead Gam," she insisted. "He can't be…."
"He is," Gambler spun her around and grabbed her firmly by the shoulders. "Hook's dead," he locked eyes with her. "He ain't comin' back, an' we'se gotta get outta heah afore da bulls get heah," he said frankly before he let go of her shoulder and knelt next to his fallen comrade. Picking up the blade, he took the sheath out of his friend's waistline and put the two together. His friend's namesake now seeming so futile and terribly ironic that he would die by it. "Let's go," Gambler said to the still muttering Actress. Trembling violently, she started to walk beside Gambler as they headed back towards the lodging house.
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The unfinished room, Brooklyn lodging house
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"We'se went back ta da lodgin' house aftah dat," she remembered, her voice sounded dead as she continued. "But it nevah was da same. Aftah awhile da boys dere decided dat dey didn' like havin' me 'round no moah an' Gamblah found out dat dey weah goin' ta do da same t'ing ta me dat dey did ta Hook," she took a deep breath. "So he gots me outta dere an' dats da last I evah saw o' him oah da Bronx," she put the knife back in the sheath and set it aside.
"Wheah did ya go aftah da Bronx?" Spot asked, almost reverently.
"Harlem," she said heavily picking up the necklace with the coin strange coin medallion on the end. "I got dere in da middle o' da night, an' it were freezin' cold outside…."
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Harlem lodging house, mid-November
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"I'se comin'! I'se comin'!" The voice responded to the pounding on the door. "Hold ya hoyses," he grumbled as he unbolted the door. Opening it, he was surprised when a girl pushed herself inside and shut the door firmly behind her.
"I'se heah ta sell papes," she started before he even had a chance to ask any questions. "I gots money foah boahd," her tone was business like as she extended a hand and gave him a nickel, placing it in the hand that didn't hold the candle. "Wheah's da bunks?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" The man said loudly, protesting her sudden intrusion. "I don' know who yous t'ink you ah young lady, but dis is a lodgin' house foah newsies an' newsies ah boys," he informed as she unwrapped herself in the lamplight. It was when the dark eyes met his that a pang of cold was struck into his heart.
"I'se a newsie," she said plainly. "An' I probably sells moah dan any o' does bums dat stay here," she added confidently.
"Dis is a lodgin' house foah boy newsies," the man insisted, puzzled that this girl would even want to sell papers.
"Did it say dat on da sign out dere?" She asked and the man hesitated. "No it didn'," she spoke very plainly, now free of all of her winter outer-garments. "Dis heah is a place foah newsies, an' I'se a newsie," she pointed to the hand that he held her nickel. "I'se paid my rent an' I sells me papes just like da rest o' dese bums," she crossed her arms across her breast. "Now yous show me wheah I goes, oah I'se goin' ta find it myself," she tapped her toe impatiently.
"I - uh - yous can't - I means ta say dat - da boys ah -" the man searched for his train of thought and the girl turned to go off on herself. "Wait!" he called and she turned back to him. "It's dis way," he motioned, grumbling in defeat under his breath.
"T'anks," she said coolly and followed.
The layout was similar to the lodging house of the Bronx, except better kept. The floor plan was fairly generic for the various lodging houses, every once in awhile there were differences, but in this case, it was very similar. As quietly as possible, the man creaked open the door and the sound of snoring and deep breathing of sleep met their ears.
"Jus' take a bunk dat ain't got no one in it," he whispered and she moved past him and into the dark room. The door shut behind her, robbing her of the light that she had. Shuffling along the floor, she moved to the far end of the room as she had been in the last establishment and put her hands carefully on the bottom bunk. No one occupied it, but there were blankets covering it tidily. Breathing a sigh of relief, she prepared silently for bed and crawled under the covers. Sleep captured her in a matter of instants, welcomed gaily by the exhausted girl, but the nightmares that accompanied the sleep, were not.
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//It's not a cry you can hear at night,
It's not somebody who's seen the light,
It's a cold,
And it's a broken Hallelujah…//
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As was her custom, she rose before the boys and found the washroom. Preparing for the day in the privacy that a community bathroom provided with a group of boys at all ages had never been an appealing idea to her. Before the boys were even awake, she had preformed all of her morning rituals.
As she re-entered the room to fetch her money and place her belongings in a safer position, she was startled when a hand landed firmly on her shoulder. Spinning around, she took a fighting stance, but relaxed when she saw it was simply one of the boys from the room. Though she was relaxed she was till on edge, always on edge.
"Who ah yous?" He asked and she did a quick once over of his appearance. He was stockier of build and shorter, but still taller than she was. His black hair was slicked back and curled at the ends, his eyes were a strange hazel color. A strange talisman hung from the end of a leather strap around his neck.
"I'se a newsie," she informed and turned to perform her original task.
"Yous a whot?" his voice rang out in the bunkroom, rousing a few more boys.
"I'se a newsie," she reinstated, turning to face him, ready for the conversation she had experience multiple times.
"But yous a goil," he insisted and she rolled her eyes.
"An' yous a boy," she retorted.
"But goils ain't newsies," he persisted.
"I'se a goil," she motioned to herself. "An' I'se a newsie," she spoke slowly and deliberately. "Yous a boy, an' yous a newsie," her tone held a hint of mockery.
"Yous stayin' heah?" The black haired boy scratched his head and some of the other boys started to pay attention to what was conspiring in their bunkroom.
"Yes," the girl answered plaintively.
"When did yous get heah?"
"Last night."
"Yous evah sold afore?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Lots of places."
"Ya got a name?" the dark haired boy couldn't figure this one, but he never was the smartest one in the group.
"You can call me," she paused, not wanting to brand herself as Actress anymore or give them any clues of her ties to the Bronx. "Ice," she said finally. "Da name's Ice."
. : ^_^ : .
As the day wore on, Ice discovered that the black haired boy was the leader of the Harlem group and had labeled himself Coin. A very different kind of relationship began to develop between the two. Ice refused to talk about anything about her self or her past or show emotion, but Coin didn't seem to mind. The other boys were put off by her act, but somehow it seemed like a challenge to Coin.
"Heya Ice," he would greet her whenever he saw her, only to be brushed off each time, but never fail, he would smile and move on. An unnaturally happy boy he was, and it puzzled Ice. How could he be so easy going and amiable, and still hold the respect of these rough boys?
Weeks pressed on, and Thanksgiving came and went unnoticed by most of the newsies. Snow came and fell, making selling weather more miserable that it already was. It was December twenty third before Coin really approached Ice.
Two days before Christmas, the sky was overcast, the ground was covered in sludge, and Ice was in a bad temper. Her papers had fallen in the snow when a careless carriage driver had turned the corner too sharply, forcing her to jump out of the way and drop them. Though about half was salvageable, half were not and this did not add to her Christmas cheer. When Coin came up to her, she was muttering things about the only thing good about Christmas was that people were more willing to spare an extra coin or two.
"Heya Ice," he smiled and she started muttering profanity instead. "I'se gotta question foah yous," he proposed and she turned and waited, giving him her attention, but making it clear that she rather wouldn't. "Dere's a dance tamarra night in an ol' warehouse, an' I'se wond'rin' if yous would like ta go wit' me?" he proposed without as much as bating an eye, then smiled broadly.
"No," Ice answered simply, she was freezing, starving, and wanted to go back to the lodging house in peace.
"It will be fun," he tempted.
"No," she replied firmly and started the long walk back to the lodging house.
"Everyone else will be there," he tried again.
"No," she repeated.
"It's da big dance o' da yeah, an' dere will be all da kids from Harlem."
"No."
"Will yous t'ink 'bout it?"
"No."
"Den Is'll make ya t'ink 'bout it. Ya wanna go?"
"No."
So on and so forth for the long walk home. Coin constantly asking, Ice constantly refusing, both were enjoying it. Finally within the last five minutes of the walk, Ice stopped in her tracks and faced off with the pestiferous boy.
"If I goes wit'choo, will yous shaddup?" she asked, arms akimbo.
"If dats whot yous want," he shrugged.
"Fine," she gave in. "Is'll go wit'choo," she conceded, he didn't say anything, but he smiled, and Ice cursed herself for giving in.
. : ^_^ : .
A warehouse in Harlem
. : ^_^ : .
The place was absolutely packed. All of the working boys and girls from around the area were there. Some of the girls had managed to rummage up some old out of date party dresses and added splashes of color to the otherwise dull clothes. Lamps of all shapes and sizes lit the large room well, and some of the kids had brought their instruments and were playing lively tunes.
Ice stood plastered to the wall, Coin by her side. Though he persistently attempted to get her to dance she refused. This went on for an hour or so before a couple came up to Coin and Ice. They apparently knew Ice and started talking.
"Is dis youah dame?" The boy of the pair, only about two inches taller than Ice asked.
"No," she replied before Coin could.
"Oh, den why yous been standin' togethah all night?" the girl, who was taller than Coin and one of the few in party dresses, asked.
"Cause I said I'se go wit' 'im," Ice explained. "Aftah he boddahed my foah 'bout a half houah," she grumbled.
"Oh," the girl nodded understandingly. "Coin can be veahy good at getting' whot he wants," she spoke a little too knowingly and Ice felt uncomfortable with the unlined tone of that comment.
"So ya ain't dancin' cause ya don' know how?" The short boy quickly changed subjects.
"I'se can dance," Ice claimed.
"Den why ah yous standin' heah on da wall?" The girl seemed to enjoy tormenting people.
"Cause I ain't gotta parade 'round like a whore ta prove I'se wort' somet'ing," Ice spat coldly.
"I ain't gotta do dat neither!" the girl proclaimed.
"Right, evahybody a'eady knows dat yous a whore," Ice smiled wickedly. "Ya ain't gotta prove nuttin'."
"A'ight yous, if yous such a good dancah, why don' ya come out heah an' show evahy body?" The girl challenged.
"Nevah said I'se good," Ice corrected. "I jus' said dat I'se can dance."
"So yous a bad dancah?"
"Nevah said dat neither," Ice shook her head. Meanwhile, Coin and the shot boy watched this all with strange amusement. Ice didn't know who this girl was, and that was what made it all the more fun. This girl was Coin's old flame, factory worker, and known for her fighting and dancing skills. Her name, appropriately was Dancer.
"Yous just scahed," Dancer smirked and Coin watched Ice's reaction. A bit a fire glinted in her mysterious black eyes.
"I ain't scahed o' nuttin'," she denied.
"Den why ain't ya dancin'?" She fired back.
"I'se told ya a'eady," she paused as the makeshift band started up a lively Irish dance. "But I figuah dat whores ah poity dumb," she insulted.
"Yous nuttin' moah dan a wort'less nobody!" Dancer exclaimed. "An' I bet dat yous can' even dance," she sniffed indignantly. "But dats okay," she took the arm of the short boy and started back towards the dance floor. "Newsies nevah weah good at anyt'ing," she shot back over her shoulder and Ice's control snapped.
"We'se dancin'," Ice grabbed Coin's hand and pulled him towards the dance floor. Dancer and her short dance partner seemed amused that they would come out so readily. Pausing for a moment on the busy dance floor, Ice felt the beat and joined in on the lively Irish gig.
Together, Ice and Coin moved over the dance floor. Their feet seeming to fly though the complicated steps with an ease that would cause most to be filled with envy. When the dance ended, Coin saw something he never thought was possible. Ice smiled. It wasn't a smile twisted with sarcasm or malice, but it was an honestly happy smile.
"Dat'll show 'er!" Ice exclaimed, pulling in a deep breath. "Told ya I'se can dance," she proclaimed triumphantly.
"Ya wanna make 'er even moah jealous?" Coin asked.
"How?" Ice's eyes shot to his, she relished this, and Coin pointed up. Above Ice's head hung a small green spring of mistletoe and she quickly brought her gaze back down to Coins, but he was already taking her carefully into his arms and Ice didn't have time to pull away.
Coin kissed her soundly and an eruption of cheers and catcalls went out among those around them. Resting her hands on his face, Ice blocked out the sounds around her as their mouths tangled together. Goosebumps rose on her skin as Coin began to gently rub his hands up and down her back. Finally, Coin pulled back, looking down into her face and Ice slowly became aware of what had just happened. Dropping her jaw, she tried to say something, but no words came. Realizing that she was still held firmly in his strong arms, she dropped her hands from his face and put them on his chest, pushing.
"Wait," he whispered, loosing one arm and taking her hand in his. "I ain't done makin' 'er jealous," He tugged her along with him as he drew her through the crowd. Ice followed dumbly.
When he knew that they were in perfect view of Dancer, he stopped and faced Ice. "I wan' yous ta have dis," he reached behind his neck and drew off the strange medallion that she had noticed the first day and placed it around hers.
"I can' take dis," Ice protested honestly. "It's youahs," she made moves to give it back, but he stopped her.
"Nah, it looks good on yous," he smiled and leaned in to kiss her again. He placed a gentle kiss to her mouth, stopping any further arguments.
"You bastahd!" Ice heard the voice from behind them and she knew that it was the girl that she had talked with earlier.
"Gotta problem Dancah?" Coin asked smoothly.
"Shuah as hell I do!" She exclaimed shrilly. "You gave dis lil' whore youah necklace when yous wouldn't even let me weahs it?" She continued loudly, drawing attention of the crowd.
"I didn' give no whore my necklace," Coin said calmly. "If I wanted ta do dat, I woulda let yous have it," he smiled confidently and Dancer's jaw dropped, her face turning as red as the party dress she was wearing.
"Well I'se glad dat yous found eachoder!" she yelled in his face and Ice turned to watch her. "Now yous can be nuttin' togethah!" She turned sharply on her heel and stalked off into the crowd. It was then that it was clear that almost the whole room had stopped and listened to their conversation and they were now all watching Ice and Coin expectantly.
"Wanna give dem a show?" Coin whispered in her ear, and before she could protest she felt herself being lent back wards in Coins arms, his face dangerously close to hers.
"Coin," she hissed. "Whot ah yous doin'?"
"Kissin' a poity goil," he answered, smiling as always.
"Stop this," she growled under her breath, knowing that the whole room was watching.
"Da show must go on deah," he commented and with that he kissed her.
. : ^_^ : .
Christmas Day, Harlem streets
. : ^_^ : .
"Nobody evah buys a pape on Christmas," Coin said as he walked down the deserted street towards the only person out that day.
"Ya nevah know," Ice retorted. "I'se sold five a'eady," she knew that was pathetic knowing that it was practically noon and she had been out there all morning.
"How many papes did ya buy?" He questioned.
"Enough," she shrugged, not wanting to admit that she had bought far under the normal amount.
"So dats like whot, ten, fifteen?" he teased and she scowled.
"Ah yous heah just ta annoy me oah ah yous goin' ta make youah self-useful?" she sounded impatient.
"I'se heah ta talk ta yous," he informed. "Yous gotta be getting' boahd out heah all alone," he stopped as she came up next to her.
"I'se fine," she snipped, then seemed to remember something. "Hold dese," she shoved the papers into his arms and he automatically assessed that she had about twenty. "Heah," she lifted her hands behind her neck and seemed to be struggling to retrieve something with her glove covered fingers. "I'se still got youah necklace," she explained, trying to get a grip with her gloved numb fingers.
"Yous keep it," he told her. "It looks bettah on yous dan me," he shrugged.
"No," she insisted. "It's youahs, pro'ly means somet'ing ta yous," she cursed as she couldn't grip it.
"It means moah if yous'll weah it," he admitted and she grimaced.
"Last night was fun an' all," she dropped her arms to her sides. "But dere is nuttin' betweens yous an' me," she pointed back and forth between them.
"Nuttin'?" he asked.
"Nuttin'," she stated again, plainly.
"Dat's why yous kissed me back," he sounded skeptical.
"I'se a good actress," she bragged.
"No body's dat good," he stressed.
"Maybe I'se dat good," she retorted.
"Yous liked it," He smiled, that same annoying, infectious, attractive smile. Ice didn't say anything, but she rolled her eyes. "So yous don' deny it?"
"Give me back me papes," she reached out towards the stack that he held.
"Yous did, didn' yous?" his eyes sparkled merrily and he held the papers out of her reach.
"I'se dis close ta soakin' yous," she held up her fingers to show a very small amount. "Give me my damn papes!" He was laughing at her now. "Fine!" she finished trying. "Yous asked foah dis," she punched him hard in the face, and his head snapped back, but he still was smiling, it infuriated Ice further.
"I likes you too," Coin said simply and Ice tackled him, completely and thoroughly enraged.
Somewhere along the line, the papers were littered over the sidewalk as the duo rolled in the sludge. Ice struggling and throwing punches, just trying to make contact, and Coin laughing. The snow and sludge soaked into their clothes, freezing them to the bone and finally Coin used his superior strength to pin her underneath him. Both of their caps were gone, and they were breathing hard. Ice was breathing from physical exertion and raised temper, Coin was gasping from laughing so hard for so long. White clouds came from their mouths, and Coin was still laughing, Ice was still infuriated.
"Get offa me!" She yelled, trying to throw him off, but finding it useless.
"Yous look funny," he continued to laugh, pinning her down firmly as she found her struggles were futile.
"Yous such a bastahd," she growled.
"Yeah," he nodded. "I really am," he had stopped laughing but the smile was still in place. The answer he gave caught Ice off-guard and she watched him warily.
"You ain't supposed ta agree wit' me," she reprimanded, sounding annoying that her insult was shot out of the sky.
"I'se sorry," he apologized.
"No ya ain't, now get offa me!" She ordered, wiggling again.
"Yous funny when yous mad," he teased.
"Get da hell offa me!" She yelled.
"Not till ya tell me one t'ing," he bargained and she stopped moving for a few moments.
"Whot?" she took a deep breath, slightly winding from her intense struggle.
"You liked kissin' me last night, didn' you?" he asked, the same annoying grin in place. When she didn't answer, he started to lean down, lowering his face to hers. When he was almost close enough to taste, Ice made a quick flipping motion, throwing him off of her and allowing her to escape. Not bothering to salvage her hat or her papers, she ran without looking back.
A very dumbfounded Coin lay on his back for a few moments, processing what had just happened. Then he began to chuckle as he sat up and watched her tiny form sprint from the scene of the crime. Picking up his wet hat, he continued to laugh, as he placed it on his head. The cold around him didn't seem to penetrate his jolly mood as he stooped and collected her hat as well. Retrieving the papers that were worth saving, he started back to the lodging house, laughing the whole way.
. : ^_^ : .
The unfinished room, Brooklyn lodging house
. : ^_^ : .
"Yous ran away?" Spot asked.
"Yeah, o' coyse I ran away," Frost fingered the leather strap that she still held in her fingers. "I weren't goin' ta fall foah no oder guy," she explained. "It hoyt too much," she clarified. "So I ran," she shrugged.
"Damn," Spot muttered.
"Whot?" She asked.
"All dese times dat I'se hoyd 'bout dese goils, I nevah t'ought dat dey weah all da same poyson," he shook his head like he still didn't believe it.
"So yous hoyd of me?" Frost arched an eyebrow.
"O' coyse," he nodded. "I'se hoyd 'bout all dese poysons," he admitted. "De's legends."
"I'se a legend?" Frost seemed amused.
"O' coyse," Spot confirmed. "Yous almost as biggah legend as me," he boasted.
"Shuah," Frost sounded skeptical.
"You ah!" he insisted and she only stared at him.
"Can I'se finish heah, please?" She cocked her head to one side and Spot nodded. "T'anks," she muttered and recollected her thoughts. "Anyways, I ran an' dat bastahd didn' have no clue whot happened to 'im. I didn't see 'im till dat night dough, I'se sittin' on da roof, just t'inkin'…"
. : ^_^ : .
Harlem lodging house roof, Christmas night
. : ^_^ : .
"Go away Coin," Ice said bitterly, not even having to look around to see whom had joined her.
"I promise I'se won' kiss yous," He spoke and Ice said nothing so he slowly approached her as she stood looking over the edge onto the streets of Harlem. "It's a lil' cold ta be standin' out heah wit'out no coat on, don'cha t'ink?" Coin asked when he made it next to her.
"No coat?" Ice looked down and saw that she had removed it to dry that afternoon and never gone back to retrieve it. "I guess I foahgot," she shrugged and looked back out onto the streets.
"I gots youah papes," he held up the crumpled salvaged papers and handed them to her. Taking them, she smiled to herself. "Whot?" he asked.
"Yous ah da most frustratin' bastahd I've evah met," she laughed to herself and Coin looked confused. "I means dat yous tries ta make me mad, an' den yous go on an' apologize like dere's nuttin' wrong," she sniffed in a very loud unladylike fashion. Rocking back and forth from her toes to her heels, she wrapped her arms around her torso a little tighter. "Mosta da time, no one evah apologizes foah nuttin'," she went on, obviously uncomfortable with the situation. "Makes it easiah ta hate da poyson," she laughed nervously and for once, Coin didn't smile.
"I don' likes it when people hate me," he said solemnly. "I'se got enough problems wit'out da whole woyld hatin' me wit'out not reason," he looked down at his feet, then back out at the streets.
"Yous really means dat don'cha?" Ice asked, looking at him and he returned her look, puzzled. "Yous really have problems?" she got an incredulous look from Coin.
"O' coyse I gots problems," he said plainly. "Evahybodies gots problems," he looked up at the clear sky, the stars twinkling ovah head.
"Yous just seems so happy all da time," Ice muttered under her breath. "Didn't evah t'ink dat yous unhappy," she added.
"Nevah said I'se unhappy," Coin continued to look up at the sky. "Just said dat I'se got problems."
"So yous happy an' yous got problems," Ice shook her head.
"Yep," Coin nodded.
"How do yous stay happy?" Ice asked, honestly curious.
"I looks at da stahs," he admitted. "Oah a flowah, oah a poity goil," he looked at her and she blushed. "Anyt'ing dats beautiful makes me happy, cause I'se can look at it an' know dat as long as dere's somet'ing beautiful out dere, dere's gotta be somet'ing bettah dan dis foah me," he spoke evenly, without reserve, open and raw as he shared his secrets. Then he ducked his head and smiled. "I'se nevah told nobody dat afore," he muttered then looked at the sky again. "I don' knows why I'se told yous," He looked back down at her, she had stopped rocking and was watching him carefully.
"That was amazing," she said, forgetting to use her accent. "Maybe you told me because I needed to hear it," she smiled. "Thank you," stepping forward, she rose to her tiptoes and gave him a soft kiss. "Merry Christmas," she whispered, pulling back and walking to the fire escape leading to the bunkroom. Coin didn't follow her this time, he stayed on the roof, and smiled.
. : ^_^ : .
//Someday I wish upon a star,
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me,
Where trouble melts like lemon drops,
High above the chimney tops,
That's where you'll find me…//
. : ^_^ : .
Eight months later, August, Harlem
. : ^_^ : .
They never talked again about the Christmas night out on the roof, or the things shared. They never talked about the kisses at the party or the day tumbling in the streets. Never did the mention of the necklace ever come up, though Ice kept it tucked under her shirt along with the golden cross. In fact, Coin and Ice never really talked again after that night. That is until the night of the fire.
The Harlem lodging house caught on fire, though everyone got out safely, it was traumatic. No one knew who set the fire, or if it was an accident, but one thing was known for sure, there was no saving the old building. The insides were burnt to a charred black, nothing was salvageable, and nothing was really worth saving before the fire struck. The fire caused the entire group to face their futures and think of other places they could stay or other professions where they could make livings. This is when Ice approached Coin.
He was standing outside the building, looking at its blackened brick shell. The smells of smoke still in the air, the wet ash lying in piles at their feet. Charcoal and suit stained both of their clothing and faces.
"Ah yous a'ight?" Ice asked hesitantly.
"Yeah, yous?" He turned, his hazel eyes ringed with red from the irritation from the smoke.
"I'se fine," she rubbed her arm with her hand nervously, not sure where to go with the conversation. "Yous stayin' 'round heah now?" she asked.
"Yeah," he nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'se dere leadah, dey needs me now," he shrugged. "I dunno whot I'se goin' ta tell dem, but I'se gotta lead dem somehow," he smiled, the sparkle of his unusually white teeth standing out against his grimy face.
"Yous'll do fine," Ice encouraged. "Yous a great leadah," an awkward silence fell between them as they both searched for safe ground for conversation.
"Yous stayin' 'round heah?" He asked casually.
"No," She answered almost too quickly. "I - I'se been t'inkin' 'bout leavin' foah awhiles now," she admitted and she could have sworn she saw sadness flicker into his guarded expression. "I ain't got no reason ta stay heah now," she looked at the burned lodging house.
"Wheah yous goin' ta go?" Coin asked courteously.
"Manhattan, Queens, Stanton maybe," she shrugged. "Wheahevah I'se can find a place ta stay," she gave him a slight smile. "I jus' came ta tell yous goodbye," she watched his expression carefully. "I t'ought dat yous might wanna come wit' me, but I guess dat dey needs ya heah," her smile wavered and his face remained set. "I wanted ta give ya back dis," she walked towards him as she reached behind her neck. "I figuah dat yous'll find someone else ta give it to," she held out the necklace and he made no movement to take it. Stepping even closer to him, she took his hand and opened it, carefully lowering the necklace into a pile on his large palm. Closing his fingers around it, she let his hand drop.
"So yous really goin'?" his voice sounded full and he cleared his throat.
"Yeah," she shifted nervously, looking up warily into his face. "Dere ain't no point in askin' yous ta come wit' me, is dere?"
"Nope," he shook his head and looked down at the hand that held the necklace. "Dis t'ink nevah looked too good on me," he opened his fist and looked at the strange coin. "I'se not even shuah wheah I gots it from," he sighed heavily. "We'se had some fun dat Christmas Eve, didn't we?" His eyes sparkled. "I'se can still see da way Dancah looked when yous called 'er a whore," he chuckled slightly, and looked down at Ice again. "I'se goin' ta miss yous," he said honestly. "Dere ain't enough goils out dere like yous," he chucked her under the chin with his fist.
"T'anks," she smiled shakily. "Dere ain't enough boys like yous," another awkward silence followed.
"I really t'ink dat you looks bettah wit' dis on," Coin finally said, holding up the necklace. "It always kinda made me looks like a sissy," he offered it to her. "I wants you ta have it, ta remember me by," he smiled as she took it. "A token of me esteem," he smiled a little broader when she put it on. "I'se always wanted ta say dat," he laughed and looked at his feet then back at her.
"T'anks," she murmured, fingering the strange coin. "Is'll keep dis foahevah," she smiled and stepped back.
"Take cahah of youah self," Coin instructed.
"I'se will," she promised. "Yous take cahah too," she returned.
"I'se will," he said gently as they looked at each other for a long time. "Well I'se bettah get goin'," she motioned back over her shoulder. "I'se gotta figuah out wheah I'se goin' ta go," she took started walking backwards.
"Yeah," he agreed. "Maybe Is'll see ya some oder time," he thought he saw her eyes mist over.
"G'bye," she choked and he could have sworn he saw a tear slide down her cheek as she turned around and ran. Maybe the Ice of Harlem had melted. If she had or not, Coin would never know.
. : ^_^ : .
The unfinished room, Brooklyn lodging house
. : ^_^ : .
"So yous left Harlem aftah dat fiah?" Spot sounded surprised.
"Yeah," She lowered the medallion onto the cloth alongside the knife and other things.
"Did ya evah go back?"
"No," she shook her head.
"Wheah did yous go next?" He asked.
"Stanton," she yawned. "I'se caught a boat, didn't havta pay nuttin' cause I sneaked on," she smiled at the memory. "I'se remembah it like its were yestahday," she smiled and stopped talking when Spot put a heavy hand on her shoulder.
"Shhh," he instructed and she was quiet and listened. Someone was coming up the stairs.
Quickly, Spot blew out the light and moved off of the sheet, Frost got the general idea and stood in the pitch black. Huddling up, they covered themselves with the sheet, hoping that the person wouldn't come inside. Their wish didn't come true because the door creaked open and a light shone inside, both of them stopped breathing.
"Hello?" The voice rang out. "Anybody in here?" it was the lodging house owner. With a loud 'humph', he closed the door and started back down the hallway. It wasn't until he was well down the way that Frost and Spot let out simultaneous long breaths.
"Dat was close," Spot breathed.
"Yeah," Frost yawned. "Dis has been nice an' all," She continued quietly, listening to the man descend the stairs. "But can we'se finish dis latah? I'se tiahd," she complained.
"Fine," Spot relented, rather sleepy himself. "But yous gotta finish youah stoahy when I'se want yous to," he held her to that condition.
"Fine," she grumbled and shimmied out from under the sheet, in the total darkness it was harder to make it to the door, but not impossible. As quietly as possible, they sneaked out into the hallway and tiptoed down to the large shared bunkroom.
"When ah yous goin' ta tell me 'bout youah past?" Frost asked as they cracked open the door.
"When yous tell me youah real name," Spot bargained.
"Promise?" Frost asked.
"Promise," Spot responded and they shut the door behind them. Without another word, they slinked over to their respective bunks, careful not to wake anyone, and lay down. Both of them digesting the words that had been spoken tonight.
God, Frost prayed. If yous up dere, I'se got a problem foah you, She closed her eyes tightly and continued. I wants you ta make its so I don't wanna fall in love no moah, She wished. I don' wanna fall in love wit' Spot Conlon!
In the same room, different bed, a boy was making a similar wish with a different ending. A boy with dark hair and strange turquoise-gray eyes, lying on the top bunk, gold tipped cane by his side. God, if dere is a God, He started. I needs youah help, he admitted. I needs ya ta make it so I don' like dis goil no moah, He prayed.
. : ^_^ : .
A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter, I couldn't get it just right, and it still needs some tweaking, but I've kept you all waiting for it too long. I don't like this chapter it is really lacking something. In fact, I hate this chapter. -Burns chapter and starts over- Gaaaaaaaarg! It makes me mad when I have something I want to get across, but it just doesn't come out right! -spills out profanity that would make even Spot blush- Oh well, it's not like anyone really reads this story anyway. -sigh- That is a really great boost for my self-esteem, but I at least have -counts- two faithful readers/reviewers! Golden Muse awards to both of you!
Skittles: Hey babe, first, thank you for actually reading my story! -cries- You like me! -does a happy dance- As for your fan fiction that you wrote, I'd love to see it. This is a place for improvement, not for 'professional authors.' I mean look at the stuff I post! It lacks in major ways! Everything I post is practically a first draft. ^_^ If no one else reads your story, I will. Post it and maybe some people will come along side and help you improve, that is what I like about this place. You can get really honest people just telling you all the ways you need to get better. It is a real growing experience.
Ireland O'Reily: The only other person who actually likes my writing. -gives you a cookie- So this isn't quite a helluva story, but it was a nice break and gives me a chance to really develop Frost. I am trying a different type of writing here, one where I really don't go into a lot of relationship details and just really gloss over a lot of things. Maybe there will be a whole prequel to this prequel! Agh! Yea, a story of Frost's history in full! Woo hoo! I don't know, I really don't like this chapter… -frowns- oh well, I really enjoy your reviews, thank you for your faithful encouragement! Take care and Happy New Year!
For the rest of you all, brutally honest reviews are welcome along with those that just want to tell me how great I am, but I prefer the brutally honest. Thanks and Happy New Year!