Disclaimer-Do not own newsies so shut-up!
A/n-Thank you all you reviewers. I don't need anymore characters. You
guys did great getting me some. Thanks. I will use Striker, Duck, and
Joz.
Sara stood up reluctantly and followed Spot. This was definitely bad. No, this was horrible! The worst trouble she'd gotten herself into yet. She'd been caught by Snyder, nearly died, tried to kill herself, landed herself in Brooklyn lodging house, and had fallen for the famous leader but she really didn't want to talk about this. It was bad enough she had the nightmares, but this? She could just run. 'Run from Spot Conlon? Am I insane?' She asked herself.
"I know what ya thinkin an' don't even try it. I'd catch ya in a heartbeat," Spot put her thoughts into words.
"I was not thinking that! You were."
"How so?"
"You were thinking that I was thinking about running away; therefor you were, thinking about me running from you not vice versa."
"Uhh? Whatever. So talk. Why were ya so scared in there? I mean, Race saved ya life or so I've heard an' you jerk away from him like he's a bull!"
"Josh brought back a lot of bad memories. That's all."
"Tell me."
"I got in some trouble with some guys at school."
"What happened?"
"He held me down and tried to rape me but Josh came to the rescue and ever since then I've been scared of guys and he's been my knight in shining armor."
"I would kill any a' me boys if I found out day did somethin like dat to a goil!"
"You say that now but what if that boy was your best fighter or birdie?"
"Foist of all me best fightah is Shots Calvin an' he wouldn't do dat. Secondly, youse me best boidie an' I don't think ya'd do somethin like dat seein as it happened to ya."
"What if he did though? Would you kill him?" 'Oh that's good dumb ass! Test his will power! Boy am I stupid!' Sara scolded herself.
"Yeah. It's wrong an' I'd make him pay for it." 'Still don't mean he'd do it. Even if he did would I know? Yeah course I would. Someone would talk,' Spot told himself.
Sara watched him and asked, "Alright then. Anything else you want to know?"
"Where are ya from?"
"Where are you from?"
"Dat's obvious! I'm from New York can't ya tell?"
"Just making sure the accent was real. Alright, I'm from Maine."
"Maine? Ain't ya a little far from home?"
"No, I moved here two years ago with my family. That would be me, Josh, Keith, Lucy, Marie, and my Dad. But before you ask, my mother's dead."
"Oh I'm sorry."
"Don't be. She died while giving birth to Josh and I. So I never met her."
"Wow dat's tough. Is ya real name Sara?"
"Is your real name Spot?"
"Maybe. Wouldn't you like ta know."
"If I'm going to tell you my name I want to know your's"
"Why should I tell ya. Da only person who knows me real name is me."
"So why not make two of us?"
"Will ya stop askin me stupid questions?"
"Why not."
"Fine. It's Kyle Patrick Conlon. Happy now?"
"Mine is Sara Noel Porter. Tricked you!" She grinned and ran ahead of him. He chased her. 'Why am I not mad at her?' he thought. 'Well isn't dat obvious? I like her dat's why!'
"Sara wait!" He called. "I'll tell ya da rest of it!"
Sara stopped and turned. "The rest of your story?"
"Yeah. I don't know why I'm tellin you of all people but I am so just listen cause it's a one-time thing. I was born in Queens ta Caroline and Patrick Conlon. I had an older bruddah named Michael but he died when I was seven months old, from tuberculosis. Dat's when me muddah started ta stay out late nights. My dad caught her cheatin on him an' flipped. She ended up bein pregnant wit some guy's kid but he skipped town. So my dad said he'd raise Dillon as his own as long as me mom never told him da whole story. But it never worked out cause me dad was real mad at her. So every time she did somethin wrong he'd hit her or somethin. Dat didn't really bother her so he started hittin me. It just got worse as I got older. He'd beat me bloody sometimes. One day, when I was eleven, he brought a whip home so I ran away. Dollar found me an' brought me ta Brooklyn so here I am. Okay?"
"Holy shit! He was going to hit you with that?"
"Yeah."
"And I thought fists hurt. Wow. That's horrible. Well, I guess I owe you my story now. I was born in Augusta, Maine to Lauren and Benjamin Porter. I have 2 sisters and 2 brothers. My mother died in childbirth and my dad always blamed it on Josh and I. He would get drunk with his buddies and come home angry that he lost a bet or something and beat Josh and I senseless. Keith jumped in sometimes and took it for us but very rarely. My dad got job here so then we moved. It continued and one of my friends told me to just leave so Josh, Lucy, Keith, and I just left. I got sick and you know the rest."
"But what about da suicide part. Race mentioned it to me once but he didn't say much."
"I was alone so I tried to jump of Brooklyn Bridge. He stopped me. That's all."
"Brooklyn Bridge! Are you insane? Dat watah it always freezin!"
"Exactly. If I didn't die on the way down or from impact with the water, I'd freeze or drown."
He looked at her. He knew what it was like to want to end everything. He had cut his own wrists at eight years old. He had the scars to prove it too. He held his wrist up and showed her.
"Did you do that?" she asked. He nodded. "Why? When?"
"I hated my life and I was eight years old."
"Only eight?"
"Yeah. I was a lot older than eight were mentally though. I was more like thoity."
"Wow. We have a lot in common don't we?" she smiled.
"Yeah. I guess we do. Let's get back or Race is gonna think I killed ya." He took her hand and ran back to Tibby's. 'He's holding my hand! Let go! Just let go!' 'No! I won't let go of him because I like him and I'm tired of being a coward!'
Next Day
Sara smiled as she followed Spot to Manhattan. They had to go there because of the strike and there was no point in being in Brooklyn if they weren't selling papes. Medda was having a rally that night anyway.
"Spot? Who's Medda? Is she really Swedish?" She asked.
Spot rolled his eyes and answered, "She owns a vaudeville theatre in Manhattan. She's one a' Jacky-boy's friends. No, she isn't really Swedish."
"Then what is she? A wannabe Swedish chick?"
Spot looked at her and started laughing. She frowned. "What's so funny? I really don't get it?"
"Nothin. It's da way ya said dat. It's funny!"
"It is? All right I guess it's funny then. Whatever floats your boat."
Spot just kept walking and occasionally looking back at her as she followed him.
They walked into Manhattan Lodging house ten minutes later. Race was chasing a girl down the steps.
"Striker! Gimme back me hat right now!"
Sara watched as the girl stood on a table and made a face at Racetrack. "Why don't ya come get it?" She dangled it just out of his reach and laughed. He growled and jumped for it.
"I swear ta ya when ya get down Striker I'll tie up and make ya sit next ta Oscar Delancey all day!" The girl threw his hat at him and got down
"Fine just don't make me smell dem all day!"
Sara laughed. "Jeez mister grumpy gills!" She yelled at Race.
"Keep ya mouth shut midget!"
"I wouldn't be talkin if I were you Race," Spot said and he grinned.
"Spot! Ya ruined it! I hate ya for five minutes!" Striker gave him a fake pout and went upstairs. Then she turned around. "Oh and I'm Striker. Youse Spot but whose da goil?"
"I'm Sara Porter."
"Josh's sistah? I know him! I dated him for a while but he was boring. Oh well."
Four other girls came bounding down the steps, knocking Striker over and tackling Sara and Race.
Sara screamed, "Chach! Nae! Hi!" She pushed the two girls off and looked up at the other two who had tackled Race.
"Sara dis is Joz and Duck. Dey's new an Race stole dere pillows last night," Chach explained.
"Oh. Well that's very nice of him. I hope they smash him," She teased. Chach smacked her. She had a very big crush on Race while Nae liked Skipper from Brooklyn.
Sara stood up and began to follow the two girls she knew from living in Manhattan before they moved her to Brooklyn but Spot stopped her.
"Sara! Wait a minute. I gotta ask ya somethin."
"Yeah?"
"Come ta Medda's rally wit me."
"I was anyway wasn't I? Or do you mean as your girl?"
"As my goil."
"Alright but I'm not your girlfriend. Not yet at least. I'm just your date. Deal?"
"Deal."
Sara stood up reluctantly and followed Spot. This was definitely bad. No, this was horrible! The worst trouble she'd gotten herself into yet. She'd been caught by Snyder, nearly died, tried to kill herself, landed herself in Brooklyn lodging house, and had fallen for the famous leader but she really didn't want to talk about this. It was bad enough she had the nightmares, but this? She could just run. 'Run from Spot Conlon? Am I insane?' She asked herself.
"I know what ya thinkin an' don't even try it. I'd catch ya in a heartbeat," Spot put her thoughts into words.
"I was not thinking that! You were."
"How so?"
"You were thinking that I was thinking about running away; therefor you were, thinking about me running from you not vice versa."
"Uhh? Whatever. So talk. Why were ya so scared in there? I mean, Race saved ya life or so I've heard an' you jerk away from him like he's a bull!"
"Josh brought back a lot of bad memories. That's all."
"Tell me."
"I got in some trouble with some guys at school."
"What happened?"
"He held me down and tried to rape me but Josh came to the rescue and ever since then I've been scared of guys and he's been my knight in shining armor."
"I would kill any a' me boys if I found out day did somethin like dat to a goil!"
"You say that now but what if that boy was your best fighter or birdie?"
"Foist of all me best fightah is Shots Calvin an' he wouldn't do dat. Secondly, youse me best boidie an' I don't think ya'd do somethin like dat seein as it happened to ya."
"What if he did though? Would you kill him?" 'Oh that's good dumb ass! Test his will power! Boy am I stupid!' Sara scolded herself.
"Yeah. It's wrong an' I'd make him pay for it." 'Still don't mean he'd do it. Even if he did would I know? Yeah course I would. Someone would talk,' Spot told himself.
Sara watched him and asked, "Alright then. Anything else you want to know?"
"Where are ya from?"
"Where are you from?"
"Dat's obvious! I'm from New York can't ya tell?"
"Just making sure the accent was real. Alright, I'm from Maine."
"Maine? Ain't ya a little far from home?"
"No, I moved here two years ago with my family. That would be me, Josh, Keith, Lucy, Marie, and my Dad. But before you ask, my mother's dead."
"Oh I'm sorry."
"Don't be. She died while giving birth to Josh and I. So I never met her."
"Wow dat's tough. Is ya real name Sara?"
"Is your real name Spot?"
"Maybe. Wouldn't you like ta know."
"If I'm going to tell you my name I want to know your's"
"Why should I tell ya. Da only person who knows me real name is me."
"So why not make two of us?"
"Will ya stop askin me stupid questions?"
"Why not."
"Fine. It's Kyle Patrick Conlon. Happy now?"
"Mine is Sara Noel Porter. Tricked you!" She grinned and ran ahead of him. He chased her. 'Why am I not mad at her?' he thought. 'Well isn't dat obvious? I like her dat's why!'
"Sara wait!" He called. "I'll tell ya da rest of it!"
Sara stopped and turned. "The rest of your story?"
"Yeah. I don't know why I'm tellin you of all people but I am so just listen cause it's a one-time thing. I was born in Queens ta Caroline and Patrick Conlon. I had an older bruddah named Michael but he died when I was seven months old, from tuberculosis. Dat's when me muddah started ta stay out late nights. My dad caught her cheatin on him an' flipped. She ended up bein pregnant wit some guy's kid but he skipped town. So my dad said he'd raise Dillon as his own as long as me mom never told him da whole story. But it never worked out cause me dad was real mad at her. So every time she did somethin wrong he'd hit her or somethin. Dat didn't really bother her so he started hittin me. It just got worse as I got older. He'd beat me bloody sometimes. One day, when I was eleven, he brought a whip home so I ran away. Dollar found me an' brought me ta Brooklyn so here I am. Okay?"
"Holy shit! He was going to hit you with that?"
"Yeah."
"And I thought fists hurt. Wow. That's horrible. Well, I guess I owe you my story now. I was born in Augusta, Maine to Lauren and Benjamin Porter. I have 2 sisters and 2 brothers. My mother died in childbirth and my dad always blamed it on Josh and I. He would get drunk with his buddies and come home angry that he lost a bet or something and beat Josh and I senseless. Keith jumped in sometimes and took it for us but very rarely. My dad got job here so then we moved. It continued and one of my friends told me to just leave so Josh, Lucy, Keith, and I just left. I got sick and you know the rest."
"But what about da suicide part. Race mentioned it to me once but he didn't say much."
"I was alone so I tried to jump of Brooklyn Bridge. He stopped me. That's all."
"Brooklyn Bridge! Are you insane? Dat watah it always freezin!"
"Exactly. If I didn't die on the way down or from impact with the water, I'd freeze or drown."
He looked at her. He knew what it was like to want to end everything. He had cut his own wrists at eight years old. He had the scars to prove it too. He held his wrist up and showed her.
"Did you do that?" she asked. He nodded. "Why? When?"
"I hated my life and I was eight years old."
"Only eight?"
"Yeah. I was a lot older than eight were mentally though. I was more like thoity."
"Wow. We have a lot in common don't we?" she smiled.
"Yeah. I guess we do. Let's get back or Race is gonna think I killed ya." He took her hand and ran back to Tibby's. 'He's holding my hand! Let go! Just let go!' 'No! I won't let go of him because I like him and I'm tired of being a coward!'
Next Day
Sara smiled as she followed Spot to Manhattan. They had to go there because of the strike and there was no point in being in Brooklyn if they weren't selling papes. Medda was having a rally that night anyway.
"Spot? Who's Medda? Is she really Swedish?" She asked.
Spot rolled his eyes and answered, "She owns a vaudeville theatre in Manhattan. She's one a' Jacky-boy's friends. No, she isn't really Swedish."
"Then what is she? A wannabe Swedish chick?"
Spot looked at her and started laughing. She frowned. "What's so funny? I really don't get it?"
"Nothin. It's da way ya said dat. It's funny!"
"It is? All right I guess it's funny then. Whatever floats your boat."
Spot just kept walking and occasionally looking back at her as she followed him.
They walked into Manhattan Lodging house ten minutes later. Race was chasing a girl down the steps.
"Striker! Gimme back me hat right now!"
Sara watched as the girl stood on a table and made a face at Racetrack. "Why don't ya come get it?" She dangled it just out of his reach and laughed. He growled and jumped for it.
"I swear ta ya when ya get down Striker I'll tie up and make ya sit next ta Oscar Delancey all day!" The girl threw his hat at him and got down
"Fine just don't make me smell dem all day!"
Sara laughed. "Jeez mister grumpy gills!" She yelled at Race.
"Keep ya mouth shut midget!"
"I wouldn't be talkin if I were you Race," Spot said and he grinned.
"Spot! Ya ruined it! I hate ya for five minutes!" Striker gave him a fake pout and went upstairs. Then she turned around. "Oh and I'm Striker. Youse Spot but whose da goil?"
"I'm Sara Porter."
"Josh's sistah? I know him! I dated him for a while but he was boring. Oh well."
Four other girls came bounding down the steps, knocking Striker over and tackling Sara and Race.
Sara screamed, "Chach! Nae! Hi!" She pushed the two girls off and looked up at the other two who had tackled Race.
"Sara dis is Joz and Duck. Dey's new an Race stole dere pillows last night," Chach explained.
"Oh. Well that's very nice of him. I hope they smash him," She teased. Chach smacked her. She had a very big crush on Race while Nae liked Skipper from Brooklyn.
Sara stood up and began to follow the two girls she knew from living in Manhattan before they moved her to Brooklyn but Spot stopped her.
"Sara! Wait a minute. I gotta ask ya somethin."
"Yeah?"
"Come ta Medda's rally wit me."
"I was anyway wasn't I? Or do you mean as your girl?"
"As my goil."
"Alright but I'm not your girlfriend. Not yet at least. I'm just your date. Deal?"
"Deal."