5

Spot surveyed the chaos at the distribution center. Pocket was right. Without Jack, the Manhattan newsies were little more than a disorganized mob. Tensions were high and the boys had starting fighting amongst themselves. Spot carefully stayed out of things as David tried to calm them down. Beside him, Pocket kept a watchful eye o the frazzled newsie, ready step in. For now, she was content to let the boys work off some of their energy, despite Spot's trouble. When the younger ones started a scuffle, however, they both stepped in to break them up.

The scabs were coming out with their papers, and Pocket moved forward to keep the striking newsies in line. Her eyes widened when Weasel pulled someone up front.

Pocket stayed silent as Jack stepped forward to the jeers and insults of his former friends. She didn't react when Spot lost his temper and had to be dragged away. Nor did she say anything when David finally launched himself at Jack. Through the entire confrontation, she stood quietly, never taking her eyes off Jack.

Her gaze didn't falter even as she was shoved aside by a policeman to give Weasel space to usher Jack through the crowd. He looked her way once, briefly, then over at Spot. She willed him to speak to her, but he couldn't even meet her eyes. They both knew who he'd betrayed the most.

Poor little Les refused to believe in Jack's defection, protesting as the older boys shouted at his retreating back. Pocket saw the dark look on Racetrack's face as they all humored the little boy.

"Yeah, he's foolin 'em."

Spot's anger was palpable as he stood watching the shattered newsies mill aimlessly around the courtyard. At his shoulder, Pocket waited grimly for the explosion she knew was coming. But he didn't blow up. Not yet. Instead he spat in the dirt, glaring off in the direction Jack had gone.

"I'se goin home," he muttered, and started walking.

He made it to the corner before realizing she wasn't next to him. Turning, he motioned her over. She shook her head slowly, gearing up for the fight.

"Let's go," he commanded. Once again she shook her head.

She held her ground as he stalked over to her, eyes flashing silver in his fury. Her own temper was very close to snapping, and she bit her tongue to stay calm. Anger was written in every line of Spot's face, from his slightly flared nostrils to the muscle that jumped in his jaw.

"I'm goin' home," he said again.

"I know."

"It's ovah, Pocket," he told her, his voice hoars with the effort it took to keep from shouting. "It's ovah. Now let's go home."

" I am home, Spot." She didn't miss the flash of hurt her words caused. "It ain't ovah. You can go, but I'm stayin. I promised Jack-"

"Fuck Jack!" he spat, cutting her off. "And fuck your promise!" His voice rose steadily until he yelling. "Ya don't owe that bum nothin."

A couple of the younger boys jumped at the venom in his tone. Even the older ones looked on nervously. Just a few had seen Spot Conlon really use his temper, and none of them wanted to see it again. Only Pocket didn't flinch at the signs that the Brooklyn leader was perilously close to the edge.

The others watched fearfully as Spot and Pocket glared at each other. He was breathing heavily, fists clenched at his side. She stared up at him, her apparent calm an unsettling contrast to his blatant fury. It would have been funny if everyone present hadn't been so afraid of the outcome.

"I get it, Spot," she said. "I know you'se mad."

"Damn right I'se mad," he shouted.

"Quit yellin: she said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his chest. Even in his rage her touch was comforting, his anger dissipating enough to allow him to speak at a normal volume.

"I am mad," he repeated, his voice no less menacing for all it was softer than before. "I trusted him," he ground out between gritted teeth. "We all trusted him. Me, you, Lucky – every damn newsie in New York stopped sellin papes cuz he said it would make a difference. Now we're all broke, Crutchy's locked up, Slips' leg is broken, and Kelly's skippin around town in his fancy new suit with a fistful of quarters. So yeah, I am mad. I brought my boys into this, I put Brooklyn on the line, an' now I gotta go back and tell em' all Kelly's a traitor an' let's go beg for our jobs back so we don't starve. So let's go. Ya don't have ta keep ya promise."

He grabbed the hand on his chest and made to go, but she pulled away from him.

"Kelly didn't keep his promise," she admitted, conscious of the crowd of newsies hanging on every word. "But I'se keepin' mine. Sure, Crutchy's in the refuge, and Slips is hoit. I ain't gonna let that be for nothing. So you'se right," she said. "Fuck Kelly. David's right, we don't need him.

The gathered newsies cheered, encouraged by her declaration. Spot's reply was almost lost in the uproar, but Pocket heard him.

"Ya think they can keep this up without Jack, an' without me?" he scoffed. "Ya think Davey ovah there has the balls? Wise up, sweetheart. Come back to Brooklyn, maybe we can make it in time to sell the evenin edition."

"Maybe he don't got what it takes, but I do," she assured him vehemently. "I'm seein this damn thing through!"

"You an' the Mouth, huh?" His voice dripped with scorn.

"Yeah, me an' the Mouth."

Spot glared at David and took a step toward him, but Pocket moved to stand in front of the other boy.

"I don't have time for your jealously, Conlon," she said coldly, a thread of steel underlining her words. "Go back to the docks. I got things to do."

A collective gasp escaped from the watching newsies at her harsh dismissal. They all backed away, watching anxiously for Spot's reaction.

"Pocket," he bit out. "I ain't playin. You'se my goil, ya belong in Brooklyn with me.

She crossed her arms across her chest. "Then I guess I ain't ya goil no more," she announced. "Cuz I'se stayin right here."

Spot stood looking down at her for a long moment, his face shuttered. Then he turned on his heel and left.

Pocket's own face was devoid of emotion as she watched him go, standing there long after he was out of sight. She turned to David.

"Ya wanted to know what would happen if I had ta choose between Brooklyn and Manhattan?"

She walked away without waiting for his reply.