A/N: Hey everyone - so sorry about the time between updates. I've been traveling, and I'll be traveling again next week. But I promise, come August, you'll be getting updates every day!
July 23, 1899
Day 3 of the strike
The next morning, the newsies of the Lower East Side gathered at the gates of The World building. Because of what had happened to Crutchy the last time, Adelaide and Charlotte kept Les, Tumbler, Emma, and the other younger newsies across the street.
The newsies stormed the circulation office, only to find a gang of thugs, hired by Pulitzer.
"Skittery!" Adelaide screamed when she saw the thugs come from around the corners through the gates to join the ones already inside the small courtyard. The thugs closed the gates.
"Aren't you going to stop them, sir?" a gentleman with a camera said.
"Just move along, mister," said a policeman on a horse.
Adelaide frowned. "Can he do that?" she asked. "Just ignore this?" She gestured through the gates where the newsies were in the fight of their lives.
The gentleman sighed. "Unfortunately, this is all too common with strikes. The rich buy out the police to ignore stuff like this."
"I can't watch this." Adelaide turned around. As soon as she did, she heard cries of, "Brooklyn! It's Brooklyn!"
She whipped around and saw the Brooklyn newsies popping up on the rooftops around the courtyard. She saw Spot jump down onto a fire escape and she grinned. He'd come through. Everything was going to be okay.
"So Brooklyn's in?" Jack asked Spot after Denton has taken the picture and the commotion at the circulation office had died down. David looked at Spot with anticipation.
Spot smirked. "Brooklyn's got your back, Jacky boy."
Jack spit in his palm and the boys shook.
"Skittery!" they heard Adelaide yell when she ran through the gates. They looked over and saw Adelaide rush over to Skittery and throw her arms around him. "Are you okay?" She pulled back and saw the bruise forming on his jaw and peppered his face with kisses.
Spot smirked. "Glad she wasn't in here when they locked the gates on your guys."
"Yeah, she was across the street with Charlotte and the younger newsies," said David.
"Charlotte?" Spot raised an eyebrow.
David nodded his head over Spot's shoulder and Spot turned around. Who he saw made him freeze.
It was her. Older than when he had last seen her, but it was definitely her. She ran through the gates and grinned when she saw David. She began walking toward the group until her eyes fell on Spot, then she stopped, rooted in place.
David frowned and looked between Charlotte and Spot. "You two know each other?"
Spot didn't say anything.
Then, as suddenly as she'd frozen, Charlotte ran over and threw her arms around Spot. "Oh my goodness, it is you!" she said, with tears in her eyes. "I thought you were dead!"
Spot hesitantly brought his arms up to hug her back, but once he was holding her, he never wanted to let you.
David and Jack watched the scene unfold with confusion.
"I can't believe it," she said as she pulled back to look at Spot. Both of them were still too in shock to say much more.
"So…you two know each other?" David broke the silence.
Spot nodded, and that was all the explanation he was going to give. David looked at Charlotte who was beaming at Spot. He recognized that look, and certainly didn't want her looking at Spot like that.
"You and your fellas wanna join us at Tibby's?" Jack chimed in, hoping to dissolve the awkward silence.
"Sure," Spot nodded.
"Great," Charlotte grinned.
David cleared his throat. "Let's get going then, because I'm starving."
"I searched and searched that summer," said Charlotte as she sat across from Spot in Tibby's.
"I had to hide out for a while," said Spot. "Fell in with some bad folks, so I needed to lay low. But I went back to the old neighborhood once I knew school was goin' again. Didn't see you anywhere."
Charlotte sighed. "Mama and Papa…well, I moved to Manhattan at the end of August."
Charlotte was silent for a few moments, and David took the opportunity to remind them of his presence.
"So you two grew up together?" he asked.
Charlotte nodded. "We went to school together."
Adelaide, who'd been sitting at the booth behind them, barked out a laugh and turned around. "Spot Conlon went to school?"
Spot smirked and rolled his eyes. "Until I was nine, then I ran away," said Spot.
Charlotte nodded. "But he'd still walk me home from school every day…"
Adelaide looked from Charlotte to Spot. He had a soft smile for her when he thought no one was looking at him.
Spot's eyes went to Adelaide when he felt like he was being watched. She raised an eyebrow at him and Spot smirked and turned back to Charlotte, who was finishing her story.
"…then one day, he didn't show up," said Charlotte. She looked over at Spot.
"I'm sorry," he said softly.
"We should get going," said David. "Les, come on. Charlotte, you want me to walk you home?"
Charlotte looked up at David. "I'm going to stick around here for a bit."
David glanced at Spot, who looked at him, before looking back at Charlotte. "Okay. Sure. I'll see you later."
Adelaide looked between Charlotte, David, and Spot. She gave Spot one last look before she turned back around.
Once David left and Adelaide turned back to her table, Charlotte turned back to Spot. They were silent for a few moments. "So why the move to Manhattan? Thought you'd slum it for a change?" He winked.
"Mama and Papa…" she trailed off. "I moved in with my Aunt Mae and Uncle Ben."
Spot frowned. "What happened to your folks?"
Charlotte looked down. "They were going to a dinner party. Something spooked the horse that was driving their cab and it raced through the streets. They got tangled up in some other cabs, whose horses got spooked too…"
"Char, I'm so sorry," said Spot, shaking his head. "If I'd known, I would've come and find you."
"It was a hard summer," she said. "Especially without you."
Spot took her hand under the table, and she gave him a small smile.
"Who was that boy who walked you home?" Uncle Ben asked when Charlotte walked through the door later that afternoon.
"That's Patrick," she said. "Can you believe it?"
"That boy you grew up with?" asked Aunt Mae. "Remind me how you know him…from school?"
"Um, yeah," said Charlotte, seeing no harm in taking a lesson from the newsies and improving the truth.
"Patrick?" asked Uncle Ben. "What happened to David?"
Charlotte shrugged. "He had to leave early."
"He looks like a street kid," said Uncle Ben, watching Spot walk away through the window.
"He's a good guy, Uncle Ben," said Charlotte, walking upstairs to her room. "I need to get some reading done before school tomorrow. See you at dinner!"
Charlotte closed the door to her bedroom and laid on her bed. She stared at the ceiling, unable to keep the smile off her face.
Patrick. After searching for him for so long, she had given him up for dead, another victim of life on the streets. He'd changed since she'd last seen him, but he still had the magnetism he'd always had. He attracted people to him, no matter where he was. It was obvious the newsies respected him, but she sensed he still played his cards close to the vest.
She remembered how he used to come to school with torn clothes and the other kids would make fun of him until she convinced her parents to send new clothes to his house. She remembered when he was sick for several days, so she found out where he lived and brought soup to his house, only to find out the truth about his mother. She remembered the traces of a black eye that he'd been waiting to get rid of before going back to school. She remembered letting him cheat off her so he could pass his exams when he couldn't study.
She remembered the feeling in her gut when she saw him for the first time after all those years. The butterflies flying everywhere, and heart pounding. He had grown up - in a very good way.
