July 24, 1899
Day 4 of the strike
Adelaide wandered down Flatbush. It was only a matter of time before someone saw her and told Spot. She was surprised he hadn't found her already. The strike had only been on for four days, and already she was out of money for her, her brother, and Emma. Skittery had been helping out, but she was certain he was out of money as well. There was no one else she could turn to for help.
As she wandered through her old neighborhood, she found it ironic that when she was out of money, she went back to Brooklyn. She wandered the same streets that she'd wandered years before when Ralphie found her. The same streets she had pickpocketed for Ralphie years after that. Now she was here about to ask Spot for money.
She sighed and turned around, heading toward the bridge once more. She would have to find some other way to many some money to feed her family.
She saw a well dressed gentleman walking down the street, heading toward Brooklyn Heights. He would be an easy mark…all she'd have to do is stumble on a crack in the sidewalk and he would be by her side aiding her in an instant. A quick slip her her hand inside his jacket, and she'd be able to feed the newsies until the end of the strike.
"No," she whispered allowed to herself. She would not pickpocket. She vowed to end that when she ended Ralphie's life.
"Hey," said a voice behind her, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Girl."
Adelaide stiffened, at first thinking it was Fire or Blade. She turned around, relieved to see neither. There was a man with a stack of newspapers walking towards her.
"Wanna make some money?" he asked.
Adelaide rolled her eyes. "Get lost. I don't do that."
"It's easy money," said the man. "Pay up front."
The man held up five one-dollar bills. Adelaide stood up a little straighter.
"I'll give you this now," said the man, waving the bills back and forth, "and you sell this stack of Journals," he handed her the newspapers, "and tomorrow, there'll be ten bucks and a new stack of papes for you."
Adelaide looked at him suspiciously. "And all I gotta do is sell these papes?" she asked.
The man nodded.
"And I get to keep all the money? Even what I make from the papes?"
The man nodded again.
Adelaide looked from the man to the newspapers. What would Spot do if he found her selling papes in Brooklyn? Would he really soak her - a girl and his friend? Or worse - what would Tumbler think? And Skittery?
In that moment, she decided that feeding herself and her brother was more important than the strike.
"Sold." She took the money and pocketed it. She took the papers in her hand and walked down the street, selling papers as she went.
Spot sat on his usual spot on the docks, looking over the river at Manhattan. Charlotte had changed since he'd last seen her. Even at 14, she had just barely grown out of the awkward early teen years, but Spot hadn't cared back then. She had been the one to stand by his side, even though the bullies pushed him around for being scrawny. She had been the one to let him copy off her homework when he hadn't been able to get it done the night before. She had been the one to bring him soup when he hadn't been to school all week. Even after she found out the truth about Spot's family, she didn't shy away.
Spot remembered that day well. He had been sick and his mother had been less than nurturing. After three days, Charlotte showed up at his front door with soup. His mother had been working when Charlotte came over. Spot could clearly remember his mortification at seeing Charlotte standing at his threshold when she heard the noises coming from his mother's bedroom.
But she never said a word about it to anyone - including Spot. She just continued being his friend as if nothing had happened.
Now, at 17, she was nearly a grown woman with the face and curves to show it. When he saw her again, he felt something stir inside him - something he hadn't felt since he'd seen her before he'd run away.
He remembered that day three years ago when he told her he was leaving. Her heartbroken expression alone had almost convinced him to stay. She made him wish he had never left.
"Hey Spot," said Fire, walking up to him. "There's a girl lookin' for you."
"Who?" asked Spot.
Fire shrugged. "Dunno. Didn't ask. She just said she was lookin' for you. She's waitin' back at the street."
Spot nodded and hopped down and walked the length of the dock to the street. He saw Charlotte standing in the midst of the hustle and bustle looking uncomfortable.
"What are you doing over here?" he asked.
Charlotte swallowed. "Looking for you."
Spot raised an eyebrow. "How did you plan on finding me?"
"I now know that I could ask any kid on the street and they'd know exactly how to find you."
Spot smirked. "Well, you found me."
Charlotte smiled uncomfortably. Spot could tell she had something on her mind, but she stayed silent.
"Come on," he said, offering her his arm. She looped her arm through his and they began to walk down the street. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," she said. "It's just…I can hardly believe you're still here."
Spot grinned.
"I really missed you," she said, stopping and turning to him.
"Look, before we get too far here, there's somethin' you gotta know," said Spot.
"What?"
Spot looked at her. How could he explain it? How could he explain the life of a newsie? The unspoken rules, the natural order, the way things worked? That an entire borough of newsies looked up to him? That he wasn't the same boy she knew growing up?
She'd find out soon enough.
He put his hand on her hip and pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers.
She reacted instantly, leaning into him, putting her arms around his shoulders, resting on hand on the back of his neck. He pulled her close so their bodies were flush against one another.
Spot had fantasized about this moment for years. Ever since he walked her to school to start the 8th grade, he'd thought about touching her – even if only holding her hand – and as he got older, his thoughts wandered elsewhere.
Charlotte heart raced, feeling him so close to her, his lips urgently kissing her, as if he'd been waiting to for so long.
They pulled apart, breathless. Looking into each other's eyes, they felt like the only two people in the world.
Charlotte opened her mouth to say something, but got the eerie feeling they were being watched. Both she and Spot turned their heads at the same time to see Adelaide standing across the street, watching them in shock, a stack of newspapers in her hand.
