When Frankie woke it was late afternoon. The bruises and sores were angry and stung while she moved. She looked in the mirror and shuddered. She looked like she had gotten hit by truck. She took a cold bath and dressed in a simple white blouse and green dress. There was a knock on Medda's door but she wasn't around so Frankie answered it. A tall girl with dark brown hair answered the door. "Hi I'm…oh my goodness, Les told me they beat you good but my lord…" she trailed off. This must be Sarah, Frankie thought. Sarah sat with her and prattled on about Jack and the strike. The story was actually very fascinating and it took her mind off of the embarrassment and the pain. "Well I have to go to work but I brought you these old things of mine and my mothers. They are too small for us both but they should fit you well enough. "Sarah said with a sincere smile.
When Sarah was gone, Frankie went back to bed. She spent the next few weeks in the theater, cleaning up and helping Medda with her shows. She tried to keep her mind off the fact that none of the newsies had come to visit her and her mind kept going back to Spot for some strange reason. The bruises were finally gone and Frankie had finally gotten the hang of the time period though she dressed like a newsie around the theater. She hated dresses.
It had been exactly three weeks since her run in with Brooklyn before she ventured out of her hideaway. She washed her hair and let it fall in waves and slipped on a white dress shirt and a black skirt. She resisted the urge to put on a hat and left the theater. The bright sun hit her eyes and she squinted. The sidewalks were crowded and the streets were full of carts and newsies selling papers. She hadn't really thought of where she was going but she found herself drifting towards Brooklyn. "I deserve and apology." Frankie said aloud, marching with a purpose across the bridge. She had no bruises to ache this time around. She spotted him instantly, leaning smugly against a pillar while his minions cannonballed into the river. He had taken his hat off, letting his brown hair shine like rough silk in the sunlight.
"Spot Conlon!" she shouted, relieved that her voice hadn't shook and that it was her own. He looked up instantly and squinted before realizing who it was. The look of surprise only fueled Frankie's anger. "You lost dollface?" he asked walking up to her. A small group formed behind him as he made his way over. "Not really. I wanted to talk to you." Frankie said locking eyes. She got the burn in her stomach again but she rode it off as a side effect of anger. "Is that so? Well what is it you want me to here. I'm a busy man, Miss Frankie" he sneered. "I don't care if the President of the United States wanted to speak with you this instant. You own me an apology. I'd refresh your memory but I'm going to assume you don't tell you posse to beat up defenseless girls everyday!" Frankie said louder than she wanted.
Spot glared in her direction before motioning for the group to disperse and for her to follow him. There was a section without anyone around. There was more shade and she could see him clearly without squinting. He whipped around once they were alone and Frankie took a step back. "I remember that night and you weren't no defenseless girl, Frankie." He snapped. He was close to her face and she felt herself blush. She stared at the ground and the anger ebbed away. "I-I-I…" She stammered looking up past her curls. His face was screwed up in a frown and his chin was jutting up. His face softened when their eyes met and he led her to a crate. She said down and he kneeled beside her.
"Ok, here's the deal, dollface, I didn't know you were a girl and maybe my temper got the best of me but you're alright." He said putting his hands on her shoulders. "I've been healing. Its been a month Spot. I have welts and bruises and a spit lip. Sarah swore when she saw me. That's what your temper did to me." She snapped standing up.
You cant tell me that its alright
You cant spout simplicities
I may not have the bruises anymore
But it still hurts the same to me
Why do I have be a MAN
For you not call me…Dollface
Why so I have bat my eyelash
Just to get you to look at me
You cant tell me that its alright
That it should be forgiven
I may not have the bruises anymore
But I'm still hurting
The sliver of a song seeped out before Frankie could catch herself. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Look Spot, I'm not saying I don't forgive you but if you felt bad at all why didn't you just come down there and apologize." She asked pulling on a curl. "Spot Conlon apologizes to nobody." He said puffing out his chest. "Well maybe he should learn." Frankie said turning to leave. "Wait a minute." He spat out grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She collided with his chest and tried to move but he held her still. "I aint used to girls like you'se ok. I don't know how to act. You can fight like a boy but you're the prettiest thing I've seen since me mother." He said with wide doe eyes. "That doesn't give you an excuse not to apologize. You cant order me around Spot. I'm not one of your crew." Frankie said struggling against his grip.
His lips came down fast and hard against hers. She was reacting to it before she realized it. She pulled his bottom lip between her teeth and flicked with her tongue before she nibbled at it. He backed her up and she found herself pinned against a pillar. He pulled away, breathing heavily, his brown hair falling into his face. "I'm sorry." He whispered, moving his face closer til their noses touched. "About beating me up or kissing me?" Frankie asked. "I'd only be sorry about kissing you if you didn't like it." He said and leaned in, this time with a gentle kiss. Frankie moaned against his mouth as he deepened the kiss. The burn grew and her skin felt like it was on fire. She pulled away this time and raced out of Brooklyn.
Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long to update…I suck I know. It was hectic this summer but I promise to update more.