DISCLAIMER: These characters do NOT belong to me unfortunately. I tried to kidnap them from Disney and was unsuccessful. Go figure. However, Runner and Mallory are MINE, and so is Josephine, Aunt Patricia, and Daisy! Muahahaha! So take that, Mickey!! OoOogles! I almost forgot Becca and Snap. They's mine too!! BleH! : ) Ah, the list just goes on, there's Mr. Carter too of course. And Vixen...Charles Hutton's mine too. Same applies to Flame and Falcon, Father Romanik, Father Aesop, and Mother Smith.

A.N. I'm BAAAAAAAAAAACK!!! Yea I know, I just won the award for 'author who took like a year to update her story'. LoL, my deepest apologies. ^_^ And now I have to write like, a trillion shout-outs, but that's OKAY! I LOVE REVIEWERS!!! Ships out chocolate-covered newsies to all who reviewed. Talk about records, last chapter got like over 16 reviews or something. Mucho Thanks! Hahaha.

~POLL RESULTS POLL RESULTS POLL RESULTS POLL RESULTS!!!!!!~

Alright, goils. The moment youse all has been waitin' for. Who is the FAVORITE newsie in me story??? *DRUM ROLL* And the Winner at SEVEN Votes is...*frantically opens the sealed card*..LUCAS 'RUNNER' CONLON!!!!! *massive applause* Congratulations, Runner. *Runner blows kisses to all his fans* ^_^ Awww.

Jack Came in second with Three votes, Spot in third (OMG, Spot lost, lol. That was soooo unexpected) with Two votes, and Race in fourth with One. ^_^ *Spot glares at Runner and Jack* LoL! Thanks to everyone who voted!!! Wheeeee, see ya at the next POLL!!!

Shout-outs: WoWzerZ, I seriously want to update this before anyone sends me any more threats to kidnap Runner from my house, lol, so I really don't have time to write out all the shout-outs that I want, but I WILL next chapter! Forgive ME! Special thanks to: I.M. Wienner, asp, Angelfish, xiao long nu, Technicolor Dreamgirl, cjd, Lindsay, Deanie, klutz, skittles, Lanen, Drama-Queen, geometrygal, Apollonia, Dimples, Rhapsody, Trek, Angel!!! THANKS SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING!!!
*Just A Little Bet*

~*~*~*~*~ For those of you who last read this story weeks ago or who have forgotten exactly what's been going on, here's a brief recap. Naturally, Spot, Race, and Jack made the little bet to see who could win over Mallory first, but eventually Race drops out after having met Becca-a girl who works at the Sheepshead stables whose past is forcing her to push away the ones she loves and bottle up her feelings inside. Soon after, the friendship Spot and Jack once upheld is torn apart when a girl named Snap (remember, she's the one that half of you want me to kill off, lol) comes between them. We later learn that Snap has intentions of her own which include playing the two leaders to win her own bet, but she's finally humbled by Spot in front of all the Brooklyn newsies. Meanwhile, our dear Runner and Mallory are steadily falling for each other at the private school they both attend. Unfortunately, the only thing that stands in the way of their going out is Father Conlon, whose overprotective nature forbids Runner from having any relationship with a girl whatsoever. On a side note, Mush had his first hangover last chapter. ^_^ And thus, we continue our tale on beloved Valentine's Day...

"I look like the angel from some pre-school Christmas play!" Becca frowned at her reflection as she stood before the mirror in Mr. Webster's office to put the final touches on her costume for the Valentine Dance she and Charles would be attending within the coming minutes. She had originally wanted to go as a medieval princess but her salary wasn't favoring her desires these days and she was in the end forced to settle with simple white linens and a pair of crooked wings as her garb. Charles decided to play along and purchased Roman attire, complete with a toga, Caesar leaves, and sandals. Mr. Webster was going as himself.

"Ye look fine, love," Charles replied as he adjusted the white suit he wore under his toga; he certainly did not intend on dallying about at a social with merely a blanket wrapped about his body. "Don't worry much 'bout it, ay? It's Valentine's Day after all. A lass like ye shouldn't be worried 'bout looks."

The girl rolled her eyes even though she knew he was only trying to help and proceeded to slide white slippers onto her feet. She didn't necessarily like exposing her toes for they often became rather cold when not covered by socks but she doubted angels walked around heaven with stable boots.

It would've been quite a walk to venture from Manhattan to the host's abode in Queens, but Mr. Webster paid the fees for a horse carriage and had himself and the two youth transported to the social in no time. All the while, Becca could only think of Racetrack. How was he spending the acclaimed day of love? Was he feeling lonely? Had he found himself a companion? She shook the thoughts out of her head; he would never do such a thing!

"Are ye comin', lass?" Becca looked down to her right where Charles was standing on the street curb holding his hand out to her. Still seated in the carriage, she glanced up at the building before her, a towering edifice decorated with red tinsel and heart-adorned banners. Apparently, this was the place the party was to be held. She lifted the ends of her gown and helped herself out of the carriage, ignoring Charles' offer of assistance.

"How long is this thing gunna last?" she muttered as they stepped forward to enter into the building.

Charles sighed at her lack of enthusiasm. Was she always going to lock herself into a box seething with ennui? "Are ye daft? I bet you're gunna love this party so much that ya'll lose track of the time!"

"I don't see that happening, Charles, but I won't dampen your spirits." She followed after Mr. Webster as he led the would-be couple into the throngs of middle-class folk and aristocrats cluttered about the dance floor like flies around a beacon of light. She thought she might become lost in the masses, and it didn't help that she felt as if every eye were glued onto her, as if she were some creature that had just come out of its hibernation to meet the new world. The attention was nerve-wracking. She tried to hide behind Charles but he seemed to revel in the notice and she didn't want to deprive him of any fun he might be experiencing.

When Webster left to speak with some comrades, she thought she'd be safe simply lounging about at the beautifully prepared tables that lined the outlines of the dance hall, but Charles insisted that she join him for a dance at least once. She felt an obligation to indulge him, though knew not what the feeling derived from. Perhaps it was merely the realization that his efforts to befriend her with in sync with her attempts to shut him down. At last accepting his requests, they danced to three songs, each finding that the other wasn't that bad a person.

"I'm kind of tired right now," said Becca at one point during the night. "I'm gunna sit down, alright?" Charles nodded and the girl walked off to the table she had unofficially claimed as her own. Three young men were seated there but she assumed they would excuse their selves upon recognizing the table was already taken. However, as she neared them, they instead stood to their feet and blocked her path.

"Hey there, sweet face," the tallest one greeted with a grin. He was dressed as a vampire, complete with flowing cape and bloodied canine teeth. "Can I steal a dance from ya?"

Becca backed away from him seemingly disgusted. "You can try, but I'll guarantee that I'll give you a nice shiner before you put your hands on me."

The other two boys laughed at the obvious rejection but immediately silenced when their leader gave them a stern glare. One dressed as a king grabbed Becca's hand and tugged on it. "Oh come on, darling. It aint gunna kill you to give us a dance. We're just a few guys looking for a good time."

"Then dance with each other!" She pulled her hand away and tried to push pass the troublemakers, but the third one, this one impersonating a Union soldier, clutched her shoulders and pulled her up to his chest with a laugh that repulsed her. "I don't think you're getting the idea," he hissed into her face. "Ya see, what we really wanna do...is you!"

And then he pressed his lips against hers with the utmost vulgarity, his hands trailing up her abdomen headed for a sacred destination until he was suddenly pushed away by a strength he didn't think the girl capable of possessing. Becca wiped her lips with an arm and then clenching her hand into a fist, forcefully sent a blow into the boy's teeth. He tripped over himself backwards and ultimately fell to the ground where he nursed a bleeding mouth.

The vampire-dressed boy came forward threateningly. "Whore!" He raised a hand to strike the girl, but the punch was caught midair by some young man that stepped into the middle of the fight without warning.

"Ye shouldn't be talking 'bout ya muddah like that, lad." Charles grinned at the boy and then shoved him away from Becca, a push that threw him into a table with a shattering crash. There was a momentary conversational hiatus in the socializing being carried out by those adults gathered near the riot, but soon the party resumed and the conflict was forgotten. The other two boys backed away from this new threat and tended to their fallen comrade.

Charles turned to his companion, worry written all over his face. He had seen Becca confronted by the trio of boys while on the dance floor with a friend of his and had rushed to the girl as soon as he could. "Are ye okay, lass?"

"Yea...yea I am," she smiled at him. "Thank you..."

"Ya aint gotta thank me, love. That's what friends are for, ay?"

She nodded. "Uhm, Charles, do you think you can tell Webster I had to leave early? I'm a bit shaken by what just happened and...well, I think I want to head back home. Besides, you'd probably have a better time not having to watch out for me and all." He opened his mouth to object but she held up a hand to stop him. "I'll be fine, I just need some rest. Please?"

When he relented, she exited the dance hall calmly, trying to compose herself all the while, but as soon as she had left the building she broke down into tears. The one night she opened up her emotions after so many years of keeping them restrained, it had only proven folly. She knew she shouldn't have gone to the party, she knew it! Why did she let Webster and Charles sway her decision, why didn't she stand firm in her choices?

"I need to talk to Race." The thought hit her of a sudden. She needed to let it all out once and for all. She needed to unleash the pain and set it free. She didn't want to bear it for the rest of her life; someone had to know.

A single drop of rain precipitated from the heavens and splattered onto her forehead. Seconds later it was followed by hordes of raindrops, as if heaven's host was crying with her. She stood there in the streets feeling absolutely miserable; of all the costumes she had to wear, it had to be a white one.

From a trash can tipped over onto the sidewalk she pilfered a raggedy wool blanket and with this she covered herself. Then she kicked off her shoes and began the long run back to Manhattan. She was surprised by the speed at which she jogged; it was as if she were some marathon racer adopting a forgotten bolt of energy. It didn't take too long before she was standing in front of the Manhattan lodging house, soaking wet and panting like a hunting dog.

She creaked the doors open slowly, hoping the ear-piercing screech would not sound as loudly as it warned. She had no such luck. By the time the door was fully open with her in the doorway, all eyes were on her. She bit her lip in embarrassment and looked down at her feet. "Uhm..."

"Becca!" She recognized the voice as Race's and her eyes shot up to meet his own from across the dimly-lit room. The Italian jumped up from the seat where he was gathered with a few pals to play some rounds of poker and closed the distance between them in an excited march. "Becca! What is youse doin' heah?"

She let him kiss her on the lips and blushed when the boys watching whistled and congratulated their friend. "Race, is there somewhere we can go to be alone?"

"Well, no one's in the bunkroom right now." He gently took her hand in his and led her up the staircase to where the sleeping quarters were located, but not before receiving a few more hollers and catcalls from the newsies. He shook his head with a smile. "Ah, ya learn tah love those bums."

As he had said, the bunkroom lacked any occupants whatsoever. Race led her to his own bed and plopped down onto the mattress, pulling the girl down onto his lap so that he could wrap his arms around her waist. "So what brings ya heah, babe? I thought youse had tah go tah some hoo-hah party." He brought his lips to her neck and trailed kisses down its smooth skin.

"Race, I need your full attention for what I want to tell you." He looked up at her then, confused. The tone of her voice dripped with a serious air that scared him. Was something the matter? Was their a deeper reason why she was here?

"What'sa mattah, Becca?"

She sighed. "Race, I think it's about time I tell you about my past..."

~*~*~*~*~

The tenements were still of decrepit structure like she had remembered them, still gigantic edifices that not only housed the lower classes but also hatred, malice, and deceit. Children in filthy rags played on the walks just outside the building, their faces dirtied with tears and mud, the toys they played with simple objects that any other human would have thought useless. Snap watched them with curious eyes and recalled how she once found amusement in the simplest things; a paper bag could entertain her for hours on end. But that was the way of the poverty- stricken in a world like hers. One had to make do with what one had.

She noticed an elderly woman peering out a window, all but one glass pane missing, with what seemed to be alert. Snap narrowed her eyes in open defiance. No doubt the old hag was sure to gossip with her social circle about the return of the 'town whore'.

"If only they knew the whole story," the girl muttered to herself bitterly. She hated this place. She hated the memories, the people, the past that it represented. Most of all, she hated the future it would have meant had she not run away those long years ago.

Once inside the apartment building, she crinkled her nose in disgust at the odor that lingered about like a foul ghost. It was a smell like decaying wood. "No," she said, changing her mind. "More like a rotting body." And the air, how stuffy it was! She almost believed she wouldn't be able to breathe were it not for the main room window that was propped open by a small lever.

She walked further into the halls, taking in all that she saw. From the looks of it, conditions had worsened since her leave. Things looked as if a hurricane had torn through the edifice, sent by Mother Nature to destroy. Snap shook her head sadly.

Then she saw the gold address, the letter rusted with stains that looked like a leper's spots. "1D." The apartment she had grown up within since infancy. The door was open, but that was no surprise for around these parts, possessions were more common property than anything else.

Upon entering, she was met with the hard smell of liquor and the darkness of an abode that knew no light. She closed the door behind her slowly and studied the place before her in efforts to find anything of familiarity. "The couch," she whispered solemnly. A white love seat, when she was five years old she had spilt grape juice onto its fabric, thus enraging her father to the point in which he smacked the girl several times across the face until she bled and screamed for mercy.

She took another step into the room. "The lamp's still there, though." It was a lamp missing its crystal shade, this being because around her seventh year, Snap had been engaged in a game of tag with her sisters when she had clumsily bumped into the object and sent it crashing to the floor. And once again, her father had gone on a vendetta, personally seeing to it that the girl was beaten until the lesson of 'no horseplay' was engraved into her conscious.

"Excuse me, what are you doing here?" A girl looking to be about fourteen years of age appeared from the kitchen. Snap turned around to regard her, but the other spoke up instantly. "Natasha!" She ran up to her older sister and thrust herself into an embrace with the girl. "Natasha, you came back! You came back! Wait until Chelsea finds out!" She pulled away then and turned her head towards a far off room. "Chelsea, Chelsea! Come out here, Natasha's home! Chelsea!"

Running into the room like a child anxious to unwrap Christmas presents, a nine year old child's face brightened at the announcement and she threw herself between the two girls with a giggle. "Natasha! You're back!" The three sisters shared the hug for a minute longer before separating their selves.

"Natasha, I can't believe you're here! It's like a dream!" The middle sibling exclaimed with a grin. "Are you coming to stay? Please tell me you are! I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you too, Marysol."

Chelsea jumped up and down, overly excited by this surprise. "Wait 'til daddy finds out! He's going to be so happy to see you back!"

Marysol shared a knowing look with her older sister. "Chelsea, why don't you go prepare me and Natasha some drinks?" The little girl agreed and skipped off to do as she had been asked. When sure she was out of ear shot, Marysol turned to Snap. "It gets worse and worse every day, Natasha. He scares me sometimes, he really does! He's always drunk and delusional, and the things that come out of his mouth are so...disgusting! I try to avoid him at all costs, but sometimes he corners me and..." her voice choked "...and it's all I can do to keep from sobbing. I try to keep the family together but since mom left and then you, it's been so hard."

"But you know what's worse?" she continued. "He's starting to look at Chelsea the same way he did you and me. At night, he comes into our room and stands at her bedside tracing his hand over her small back. He thinks I'm asleep when he does it, but I see it all the time! He's going to do something horrible to her, Natasha, and it'll scar her for the rest of her life! He cares nothing for us!"

Snap tried to control her sister by pulling her into a hug. She knew exactly how Marysol felt; she knew it all too well. The fear, the anxiety, the not knowing whether you'd be free one night to simply be a child. It was why she had left to begin with.

"Marysol, youse gotta leave 'fore he does somethin' tah 'er. He's already hoit youse and me, and there aint no reason why we gotta let 'im hoit Chelsea too. She still thinks of him as if he's some good ol' man, but ya gotta make 'er see the reality of it all. Ya gotta take 'er outta this place!"

"But how? And with what money? I can't just leave! This is the only place I can call home!"

Snap reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded wad of bills. "Here, take this. All of it. Go tah the monastery in Manhattan wid Chelsea and stay there, okay? It has tah be tonight, Marysol. I'm not letting youse stay another day in this hellhole. Promise me you'll leave tonight."

"Where did you get all that money? Did you...?" She wouldn't ask the question straight out, for that would be rude, even if it was no secret between the girls.

"No," the elder replied simply. "It was just a little bet. And I'se won." After all, those were her only intentions in accepting A.J.'s bet against Spot and Jack. She could care less whether it ruined her reputation or made her number one enemy of Brooklyn. In the long run, if it's what she had to do to protect her sisters and reunite her family, she would even go so far as to give her life. "Promise me you'll do it."

Marysol took the money; thirty seven dollars in total. "Alright, I promise. Are you going to meet us there later?"

"I'll try to come the next day or maybe..." The front door slammed open and in staggered a drunken man in his middle-ages dressed in soot- covered clothes and sporting a beard that definitely needed shaving. He cursed three times under his breath and then threw the decanter of whiskey he held onto the floor where it shattered. He proceeded his entrance into the family room but stopped short when he saw a familiar face. "Natasha..." he snarled. "Business running low this time of year?"

"Go tah hell, father!" Snap turned back to Marysol and whispered, "promise me" before once again facing her abusive parent. "Youse don't scare me anymore, I'm not someone youse can hoit anymore!"

"No, I'm sure you have enough men doing that to you already."

Snap glared at him. "And who do I'se have tah thank fer that? None other than me father who introduced me tah the business when I was only eleven years old!" The argument had turned to screaming now and as Chelsea returned with two glasses of milk, seeing two of her family members barking at each other like rivals brought tears to her eyes.

"Get out of my house, you whore!" The sisters' father pulled the girl's arm and shoved her out the door with a might that brought her down to her knees. By now, neighbors and friends had gathered around the apartment to see about the problem and all were left dazed at the sights they had found. "I won't let no whore live in this household, you understand me! Get OUT!"

Snap had not the energy to fight back. What could she say at this point? It was obvious to the others already what the situation concerned. How could she tell them that she was the victim, and not her father? How could she save herself from the humiliation? It was much too late. On all fours like an animal, she suddenly felt like the lowest human being ever born into the drudgery of life. She felt worthless, unappreciated, and unfortunate. And worse off, she remembered that this was the same way Spot had gone about exiling her from Brooklyn. It was all a confounded parallel.

A rock skidded across the ground barely missing her hand and soon after she realized the young women standing outside were throwing stones at her while the boys shouted insults and cruel words. Snap climbed to her feet and proudly marched off, showing no outward signs of being daunted. One especially large rock shot against her shoulder blade and she stumbled from the impact; the audience roared with laughter.

"Tah hell wid them," said she, as she took off once again. She wouldn't let them revel in her agony. But inside, she was weeping uncontrollably.

~*~*~*~*~

Review Review Review Review Review Review Review Review!!! Next chapter: Runner and Mallory share Valentine's Day together and Spot takes the bet into his own hands.