Just to make one thing clear, I don't know if I mentioned it before, but Jack has gone to Santa Fe. He just wanted to see what it was like, and I don't know if he'll be back in this story, but I am seriously considering it. Anyhow, on with the chappie...

Chapter 6

"SURPRISE!"

I was nearly blown off my feet the minute I walked through the door. There were birthday decorations everywhere: balloons

and streamers and a huge banner that said 'Happy 20th Birthday, Lightning!'. It seemed like every newsie in New York was

sitting at the many tables scattered around the room. I grinned widely. Those rascals. Mush, Race and Blink sat at the table

nearest to the stage, goofy smiles on their faces. I knew they were the masterminds behind this. I gave each of them

afriendlythump on the head in gratitude, and then I was pushed into a chair and presented with a mountain of small gifts:

marbles and poker cards and nickels and cigarettes. Then suddenly Crutchy appeared, holding a larger, wrapped gift. Inside

was a new pair of suspenders. I was speechless. Where in the world did they find enough money for all of this? They must

have been saving their pennies for weeks. No wonder Race had to ask me for money for papes so often. I sat there, feeling

so happy, and thinking how lucky I was to have such great friends. Then Medda came out, and she led everyone in singing

Happy Birthday to me while Blink brought out a cake covered in candles. I blew them all out in one breath, and everyone

applauded, and made snide remarks about how I had no significant other until they got their cake and were too busy stuffing

their faces to talk. After everyone had been served, I stood up on the stage and motioned for silence.

"I jus' wanna thank youse all foah comin' and celebratin' my birthday, and I am gonna make it up ta youse all somehow. But

foist, let's jus' have a good time!"

With all the cheering, I was surprised that the roof wasn't falling in. Medda came out again and started singing one of her

faster songs. Let me tell you, you should never ever give sugar to a hundred guys and then turn on some loud music. In fifteen

minutes, everyone was dancing, and not only on the dance floor. Someone found out that dancing on the tables was much

more fun, and so everything that had been on the tables in the first place ended up on the floor to make room for all the crazy

dancing. Me, I was right in the midst of all the chaos, whooping and yelling like a maniac with the best of them.

An hour later, most of the sugar had worn off and I collapsed into a chair next to Mush, who was having a heated argument

with Blink about whether Jack or Davey had influenced the strike more. The room was unbearably warm. I fanned myself

with my hand. It didn't help at all. I was thinking about heading outside for some air when Race came over.

"Hey, Light, pooped already?"

"Naw, Race, Ise jus' gettin' warmed up."

"Well, we'se settin' up a pokah game, wanna play?"

"Shoah."

I stood up and stretched. Mush and Blink hadn't heard a word of our conversation, so I interrupted their discussion and

extended Race's invitation. They declined. Shaking my head, amazed that they'd rather talk about the strike than play poker,

I straightened up and turned to follow Race. But a cold, all-too-familiar voice from behind stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Aren'tcha gonna invite me?"

I spun around.

"Get lost, Brooklyn," I said through clenched teeth.

"Nice try, Manhattan, but I ain't goin' anywheres."

Smirking, he dropped into my now vacant chair, leaned back, propped his filthy boots up onto the table and closed his eyes.

"Do we needs ta take dis outside?"

Spot opened one dangerous blue eye.

"Are ya threatenin' da king, Manhattan?"

I snorted.

"'Da king', huh? Man, ya need a reality check."

The other dangerous eye popped wide open in shock. In an instant, he was standing up, his nose inches from mine, his eyes

livid. But before he could do anything, Mush and Blink appeared by my side. They had mercifully abandoned their strike

debate (for now). Other Manhattan newsies had noticed my situation and had left their conversations to help me. Spot knew

better than to tangle with all of us. Fuming, he sank back into his chair, but his former laziness was nowhere to be seen. The

look on his face was one of pure hatred. I gave him a smirk of my own and went to join the poker game.

Thanks to my new reviewers:

Krystal: Thanks for the feedback. I wasn't really trying to make Spot that funny, but now that I look back on it, he does seem kind of comical. He gets more serious in later chapters, if I remember correctly. But I totally agree about him not letting Light boss him around so much. I guess it must be strange for him to have a girl as a rival.

Pancakes: Yay! Another reader! Thanks for letting me know you're reading!

To the rest of you...KEEP REVIEWING!