Ok, I know this chapter is long over-due...summer for me has been hectic ). Nevertheless, I am back with not 1, not 2, but three new chapters for ya'll that I wrote on a retreat I went on with my Youth Group called challenge. (I'll publish the other two sometime either today or tomorrow) This leaves me with a question for you. When you die, do you know for sure where you are going? I hope you read, enjoy, and review! Xoxo
The newsies are the property of someone who is not me, but if I owned them I would place them on ebay and make millions from the ladies out there )
The hustle and bustle of newsies packed together at Medda's party was a nice change of scenery compared to my lonely day of selling newspapers. I've never had to sell alone before, and I've found that I am in no way partial to it. It takes a lot longer and made the day drag on and on. I have no idea how I am going to last in Brooklyn- selling by myself every day, that is. I can handle the danger, of course, just not the solitude.
My thoughts shifted to Spot, I guess I won't be alone, now will I? I smiled to myself; he is my high point. Speaking of Spot, where could he be? The party was about to end and I had not seen him all night. I scanned the crowd for a glimpse of his bright red suspenders. With those contraptions and his striking features…how could I miss him?
"Oh where, oh where could Spot have gone? Oh where, oh where could he be?"
"Looking for someone?" A familiar smooth talker said from behind. I stiffened and felt my face turn pink as I prayed that he had not heard me sing. Of course he did.
"Perhaps... Do you always sneak up on people?"
"Perhaps…," he mocked. "Do you always sing when you look for people?" He chuckled as he saw my face grow warmer and warmer. "And, no, I don't, just you."
I crossed my arms and cocked my hip. "Well, doesn't that make me feel all warm inside?"
He smiled and patted my cheek. "Obviously it does, because it shows."
I sighed with a defeated, embarrassed laugh. I was right, these next few months were going to be long.
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The Brooklyn Lodge house is a lot older then Manhattans, and it lacked the everyday merriment. Things were so serious; cards are played with a fierce competition and I swear I hardly ever heard more than a chuckle from these harsh boys.
"Well, here we are," Spot said leading me into surprisingly tidy bunkroom. I had imagined that all bunkrooms were as cluttered as the Manhattan one, but then I remembered who their leader was.
"Dis will be your bunk," He set my tattered suitcase of the mattress and pointed to a room across the hall. "Dat's da washroom ovah dere. Any questions?" I smiled dimly at him and plopped myself into a sitting position next to my bag.
"Hey, whats da matta? You gonna miss Manhattan?" He moved the suitcase to the floor and sat next to me. I contemplated whether of not I should tell him about my fight with Jack. About feeling as if he replaced me, how he probably won't ever be friends again, Sarah, how he hadn't talked to me all day, and about how bad selling alone was. Would Spot be a good listener? Would he sympathize or shut me out forever so I would have no choice to have to leave Brooklyn too? I took a deep breath, if he was going to be part of my life he would have to deal with all of my emotions eventually so I best start now.
So I released everything to him, not once lifting my gaze from my hands that were wringing in my lap. I told him about Jack and the Jacobs family and the fight. The only thing I left out was the bit about selling alone; I didn't want him to think I couldn't handle it here. By the time my ranting had ceased I had tears dripping out of my eyes and felt like an idiot. I looked up from my lap and did not see what I expected. He wasn't tense or uncomfortable. I just saw his incredible eyes gazing softly into my big red ones with sincere compassion and understanding. I took a couple of shaky breaths and stationed my eyes back to my lap.
"And I guess I was just wondering why you asked me to come here anyway, I mean... you have never lived with me before, but you have been told how hard it is. And I'm sure, just by knowing me, that you could have figured that one out on your own..."
Spot silenced my babbling by putting his finger up to my lips. He moved his hand to my lap, where he gently calmed my wringing hands. His other hand tenderly stroked my tear-stained cheek.
"Da reason I asked ya to stay here is because of..." He smirked and pulled my face closer to his.
"Dis." Our lips met and my stomach fluttered. My face flushed red but I didn't care. This was all I had dreamed about since I saw him my first day back at the docks. We parted and we bother were smiling. I cleared my throat.
"Well, I, uh, see. I guess that would be a good reason then."
He gave me a full fledged smile. "I'd say it was a very good reason." He kissed me again and I realized I had forgotten all of my problems that were in Manhattan. All I could think about was him.
"Is this how you treat all your guests, Mr. Conlon?"
"Nah," he smirked giving me another quick peck on the lips. "Just you."