Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies or any other media references I may make throughout the duration of this fic.

Living in Suburbia

Starring: James 'Racetrack' Higgins, Patrick 'Spot' Conlon, Oscar Delancy, Jack Sullivan, Nathaniel 'Kid Blink' O'Connor, Philip 'Skittery' Bardot, David Jacobs, Christophe 'Itey' Tadesco, Alexander 'Specs' Conlon.

Chapter 8--Spur of the Moment

—Racetrack's PoV—

"Did you hear about Alex Conlon?" whispered someone to his friend as I passed by.

I tried to ignore it, but how could I? One of my best friends was just in the paper. For a not so flattering reason.

Spot let it roll off his back. He didn't even flinch when he heard his brother's name. I found it hard to believe that he wasn't wearing earplugs.

I tried asking him about it but he ignored me too. Spot, I think, is very determined not to let it bother him. I can't tell if it's working or not. People keep talking, not bothering to lower their voices or curb their need to gossip until Spot is out of hearing range. If anything they talk louder when he's around. Spot acts cool and stares straight ahead.

"What's the deal with your brother?" yelled one of the Delanceys, Oscar, to Racetrack between first and second period.

Spot stared at him stonily, pausing in his step, before continuing. He ignored their following jeers.

I don't know how he does it. If it were my brother people were talking about I would have handed out a few black eyes by now. But Spot tried his best to disregard them and continue on like everything was OK. Still, there was a slight cautiousness of the way he carried himself and in him, about his matter of behaviour and acting.

Later

"Are you mad?" asked Itey, shutting his locker and walking beside me to class. "I don't even know him!"

I smiled weakly. "That's all right, we'll bring along Jack, Blink and Skittery too."

Itey surveyed me as if I were out of my mind. "Race, we can't go up to Wincrest to see Specs! It's insane and dangerous, we can't!"

I rammed my hands into my pockets. "Fine Itey, I was just inviting you along. You hardly knew him, you're right. I'm going to find the others now."

I skipped next period searching for Skittery who had study hall.

I found him in the library. He reacted much the same way Itey had. Except, in the end, I managed to talk him into it.

"I guess Race, just to check up on him. Go find Jack, I'll go home and get the car."

And half an hour later we were on the road. Skittery was driving, Jack was in the passenger seat, Kid Blink was behind Jack, David—who Jack had insisted come along—was behind Skittery, and I was between them. No one said anything.

Occasionally Jack cleared his throat or Skittery would change the radio from bad traffic report to bad traffic report, but not much else happened.

David finally spoke.

"Does anyone know where Wincrest is?" he asked pointedly, seeing as we appeared to be driving aimlessly.

I looked out the window at the green farmland. Kid Blink shrugged. Jack looked worried. Skittery glanced back at David momentarily before turning back to the road.

"Of course I know where Wincrest is," he said.

Nobody spoke again until we got there.

The building was large and cold looking, surrounded by greenery and vast lawns. It was solely made of white brick, giving off a sterile impression: bitter and foreboding.

"This is cheerful," said Jack sarcastically as Skittery pulled into the parking lot.

We got out of the car and proceeded to the building. The lobby was empty and quiet, with only one nurse behind the desk. She looked up as we came in.

"May I help you?" she asked.

Only Jack spoke. "Yes, I'm Jack Sullivan, my friend Alexander Conlon is here. We would like to visit him."

She looked troubled. "I'm not sure if that's possible Mr Sullivan," she said. "Only direct family is allowed in. now, if any of you boys are related to him, that would be a different story."

We looked around.

Skittery looked slightly sick. "I'm related to him," he said quietly.

Shocked, I faced Skittery.

The nurse looked slightly taken aback as well. "Are you? And how so?"

Skittery hesitated momentarily. "I'm his...I'm his half-brother."

She wrote something down on a clipboard she was carrying before getting us all to sign our names.

"Mr Conlon is staying in room sixty-two. Just go through those doors and continue straight," she told Skittery.

Once we were through the doors Kid Blink turned to Skittery. "Way to lie," he said softly.

Jack nodded. I didn't say anything.

Skittery looked sick again. "I didn't lie," he said gently.

Kid Blink looked at him warily. Even he didn't know and he was Skittery's best friend.

"Mr Conlon is my father," said Skittery, looking ashamed.

But before we said anything more we were standing in front of Specs's door and Jack was clearing his throat. "Hi Specs," he said.

Specs looked tired but still happy to see us. "Hi guys," he said.

Jack stepped forward, then David, then me, then Kid Blink, with a wary glance at Skittery. Finally Skittery stepped up and greeted his friend.

Later

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" asked Kid Blink loudly on the way home.

Skittery stared ahead of him at the road and didn't answer.

"Does Spot know?" asked Blink, panicked.

Skittery shrugged. "I don't know. It's not up to me to tell him."

I stared somewhere along the dashboard. David and Jack said nothing.

I had the odd feeling Spot would know by tomorrow.

End Chapter

I'm updating but NOBODY ELSE IS! So, if I read your stuff (and even if I don't), update faster!!!

Shoutouts:

C.M. Higgins—Keep in mind, this took place in the 1950s, so things were different then.

Jacky Higgins—whatever, it's fine. We're used to it, our government doesn't put enough funding on athletics. However, Alexandre Despatie is HOT!

Icanreadncount—it's 'Michael' and I love your evil glare. Did you know that soap operas are called soap operas because the commercials are ones that advertise soap? Fascinating!

Erin Go Bragh—yeah, I don't have a friend like that either. Mine mostly get ignored by me. No, I'm joking. I'm a nice person, really!