~*~Shout-Outs~*~
ShortAtntionSpaz: Thank you for reviewing. I'm glad someone likes my writing style. And yep, I'm the biggest dork in the world *nods enthusiastically*. But I'm very proud of being a dork. Hope you enjoy the rest of the story.
Marge: where is my review?
Heather: yeah…thanks for reviewing…NOT! gosh! if you don't review this time I'm not giving u julian!!!!
A/N: okay, everything with the formatting should be fixed *crosses fingers*…enjoy chapter 3 and please review when you're done reading!
Chapter 3
Spot awoke early the next morning to find Aslyn lying beside him, snuggled into his side. He smiled as a warm wave of feelings rushed through his body.
"Aslyn," he whispered, nudging her slightly.
"What?" she mumbled sleepily.
"It's time ta' get up. I'se got papes ta' sell," Spot replied, pulling away from Aslyn.
"Hm," she mumbled, snuggling closer to him as he tried to move away.
"Aslyn, ya' said you was gonna' help me wid' sellin' me papes today. Ya' still wanna'?"
"Yes," she nodded and slowly climbed out of the bed.
"Good. Hurry up an' get ready ta' go," Spot said, entering the bathroom.
In no time, the two were heading out into the streets of Brooklyn, ready to "carry the banner."
"Okay, foist (*first) dings' (*things) foist," Spot said after they had gotten their papers, "you'se gonna' have ta' get a Brooklyn accent if ya's gonna' hang 'round here."
"Alright," Aslyn thought for a moment, "How's 'dis?"
"Poifect, poifect (*perfect)," Spot said, "Okay, next, you'se need a nickname?"
"Why?" Aslyn asked.
"Well, 'cause all da' newsies have one. And also, it's a good 'ding to have if you'se gettin' chased by da' bulls."
"Aight (*alright), but what'll my nickname be?"
"I dunno'. I dunno'. Lemme' dink (*think)," Spot said, sitting on a nearby bench.
After a few minutes had passed, Aslyn asked, "Spot, are ya' done thinkin' yet?" (A/N: sorry, I couldn't resist using that line from the movie =D)
Spot sighed, "How 'bout Cutter? 'Cause of…ya' know…" Spot trailed off, not wanting to actually say aloud that Aslyn had been cutting herself.
"Yeah, I know. Cutter?" She let the name roll over her tongue, "I like it."
"Good," Spot said, "Now let's get ta' sellin'."
Spot spent a good part of the day teaching Aslyn how to sell newspapers. Unfortunately, Aslyn wasn't a good seller. She had a problem thinking of creative headlines for "improving the truth." But she tried.
After they were done selling, Spot and Aslyn used some of their earnings to buy a meager lunch of apples from the market and rolls from a small, inexpensive bakery.
When they finished eating, the two went down to the docks to spend time with the other Brooklyn newsies. Spot swam with the other boys, but Aslyn was content to sit on the docks and watch.
Later that evening, everyone headed back to the lodging house to get ready for the party at Irving Hall. Aslyn changed into another one of Spot's old shirts and ran a brush through her hair, while Spot washed his face and hands and supervised the other boys.
"Spot, do I have ta' stay here," one of the younger newsies asked.
"Yeah, Copper, ya' gotta' stay here. You'se too young ta' go to Irving Hall," Spot answered.
"But Blue gets ta' go an' he's only a year older 'dan me," the boy whined.
"Don't back talk," Spot snapped, his eyes turning into a silvery-gray, and the boy scooted away quickly.
"You sound like his father," Aslyn said, losing her Brooklyn accent now that it was just she and Spot.
"Nah, I ain't 'deir fader (*father), just 'deir leadah," Spot laughed, "Ya' ready to go?" Spot asked.
"Yes," Aslyn answered, and the two headed to Manhattan with the rest of the Brooklyn newsies.
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"Here we'se are," Spot said when the group reached Irving Hall.
Aslyn looked around to see a large picture of Medda above the building's entrance and newsies everywhere. I hope this is fun, she thought to herself.
"Come on," Spot said, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the Hall.
"Wow," Aslyn whispered to herself when she all of the newsies filling the theater. There were hundreds of them. They were all drinking and laughing and most of them had girls by their sides.
"Hey, Jacky-boy!" Spot called out when he saw the Manhattan leader.
"Hey ya', Spot," Jack said as the two boys spit shook, "Hi, Aslyn," Jack said when he noticed the girl by Spot's side.
"Hi," she replied meekly.
"She ain't Aslyn no more, Jacky. She's Cutter now," Spot said, smiling proudly.
"Ah, so you'se got you'self a newsie name, do ya'?" Jack asked.
"Yep," Cutter said, smiling.
"Well, I'se gonna' go talk ta' Medda," Jack said, "You'se two have fun."
"We will," Spot laughed as Jack pat him on the back.
"Hey ya', Race," Spot said as he and Aslyn approached a large table surrounded by newsies.
"Hey, Spot," Race said, "How's it rollin'?"
"It's rollin'," Spot answered, "Guys, 'dis here's Cutter. She's new ta' Brooklyn," Spot said, introducing Aslyn to all the boys at the table, "Cutter,
'dis is Racetrack, Mush, Kid Blink, Skittery, Snoddy, Pie Eater, and Boots."
"Hi," Cutter said, smiling at the boys.
"Want me ta' deal ya' in, Spot?" Race asked, shuffling a deck of cards.
"Sure," Spot replied, "Ya' wanna' play?" He asked, turning to Aslyn.
"Na', I'll jus' watch," she answered.
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After a few rounds most of the boys had left the game and it was down to Blink, Race, Snoddy, and Spot.
"I'll bet ya' two bits," Race said, throwing his money into the center of the table.
"I'll see you's two bits and raise ya' five cents," Spot replied, also throwing his money in the pile.
"Too rich for my blood," Snoddy said, "I'm outs."
"What about you, Blink? Ya' gonna' chicken out?" Spot asked, turning to Kid Blink.
"Unlike you's Conlon, I ain't got that kinda' money to be throwin' it away on cards," Blink said.
"'Aight, Conlon, it's just you and me. Whaddya' got?" Race said, taking a drag of his cigar.
"Royal flush," Spot said, leering.
"Damn," Racetrack said, throwing down his cards, "I only gots a full house." He cursed again as Spot began collecting his earnings.
"So, Cutter," Spot said, turning to Aslyn, "ya' wanna' play now?"
"Against you? No thanks," she said, laughing.
"Aw, come on," Spot pleaded.
"Hey, Spot, how's it goin'?" Jack asked, approaching the Brooklyn leader.
"Hey Jack. Tell Medda she puts on a good party," Spot said.
"Cutter," Jack said, turning to Aslyn, "ya' wanna dance with me? If it's okay with Spot here, that is."
Aslyn turned to Spot who nodded, "I'd love ta', Jack," she replied.
Jack and Aslyn danced for a while, laughing and occasionally singing along to Medda's songs.
Spot approached them after a while, "Mind if I's cut in?" He asked Jack in a very gentleman-like voice.
"Not at alls," Jack answered, imitating Spot.
"Didya' have fun dancin' with Jack," Spot asked Aslyn.
"Yeah. He's really nice," she answered, smiling.
The couple danced a little longer and then they went back to their table. Spot played a few more games of poker. Aslyn even played once, although she wasn't very good at keeping a poker face.
As the party dwindled down and few newsies remained in Irving Hall, Spot made sure all his boys were heading back to Brooklyn. He then turned to Aslyn, "Ready ta' go?" He asked.
"Sure," she said, "I had fun tanight (*tonight), Spot."
"Me, too," he replied, "But now it's time ta' be headin' back across the bridge."
Spot led Aslyn out of Irving Hall, but just as they were out the door, Boots called out to Spot, "Hey, Spot!"
"Yeah, Boots?"
"Jack wants ta' talk ta' ya' real quick. Somethin' 'bout Queens," Boots said.
"Okay, tell him I'll be 'dere (*there) in a secon'," he told Boots. Then he led Aslyn over to the side of the building in front of the back entrance, "Wait here," he told her.
Aslyn was waiting in the alley when he approached her. He moved through the shadows, barely making a sound. When she saw him, it was too late. He wrapped a hand around her mouth, stifling her scream, and he grabbed her wrists and held them behind her back.
"Don't do anything stupid," he whispered, his malicious voice echoing through her ear.
A/N: Please review! I will love you forever if you review! Peace out!