All of the Brooklyn newsies were sitting in an uncomfortable silence that only added on to Irish's worry. She quickly spotted Italy and joined him on the floor.
"What's goin' on?" Irish inquired her brother.
Italy, who supported light brown hair and a charming smile, sent her a grin. He was the good looking of the two siblings.
"I'm not sure," he answered with a shrug. "Everyone was dead quiet when I got heah."
Irish furrowed her eyebrows at her brother. Italy was a closer friend of Spot's. It would only make sense if he knew what was going on but he didn't. He was just as clueless as her.
Irish and Italy were close. They were all that was left of the Lombardi family – or so they believed. Their parents were separated; their father was in the South and their mother was enjoying her job as a prostitute in Harlem where Irish was born. Secretly Irish missed her old life. It was easier when she didn't have to worry about living in the streets and making her own money. She could live without the fighting and bickering of her parents, of course, but she wanted to not have to worry about starving.
"I wonder what Spot wants," a girl said loudly, breaking the deadly silence. It was Sapphire who said it.
She was balancing herself on two legs of one of the chairs, a bored expression on her face. She was good at making an awkward situation interesting. She had nice, long black hair that reached her waist and she wasn't afraid to wear a skirt unlike Irish.
"Dunno," Brains, one of the smarter newsies, said.
Soon the whole room was talking loudly on what Spot might want to see them all for. This was how the newsie Lodging House should be and it was definitely more welcoming for Irish. It felt more like home now. More of the newsies piled into the room to join the others. But the room grew silent again as their leader, Spot Conlon, appeared. He stood looking quite satisfied with their quick reaction to his presence. They truly did respect him.
He didn't smile or even smirk; it was always frightening when Irish saw him like this. It was quite frightening for everyone. His straight and serious face never meant anything good. But then again he was the master at hiding his true emotions by covering them with his one of a kind expressions. A true king he was.
"I'm sure da lot a' you are wonderin' why I rounded you up so eoily," he started, his voice indicating that he had some news. It was too hard for Irish to tell if it was good or bad.
Spot unfolded his arms gradually and pulled his black, gold tipped cane out of his belt loop. He scratched at the gold, pausing to raise the tension and anticipation in the room.
He leaned against the doorway. "I got some very interestin' news from Jack dis mornin'. Some a' you may already know dis, but I jus' wanted to warn all a' you. Harlem has got a new leadah," Spot told them, his words drifting heavily in the room.
Chaos broke out. "What happened to Ben?" newsies were asking.
"Who's da new leadah?"
"Dis can't be good."
"What's goin' on?"
Questions flooded the place. Irish was too stunned to even react quickly enough. Who could ever replace Ben? She thought bitterly. Did he…leave?
Ben Almond was one of the most supreme leaders in New York; second to Spot Conlon of course. But unlike Spot Harlem was Ben. Nothing meant more to him than his borough and his newsies. He was charming and intelligent, two qualities that stole Irish's heart. Surely he didn't give up his leadership to somebody else. What did you expect? Irish thought. He found a nice girl and he ran off with her.
Ben was always sweet on Irish; his actions even made her believe he had hidden feelings for her. But she never bothered to ask because his attraction was Harlem. It only made Irish's heart feel heavy to think he left without even telling her. He most certainly would have told her…or at least said goodbye.
Italy looked sympathetically at his sister. Everyone who was anyone knew how much she fancied Ben. Italy even believed Ben liked her as well at one point…that was until he discovered the truth. How he always addressed Irish as 'kiddo' and ruffled her hair. That wasn't romance. But he never told Irish. The boy was three years older than her anyways. Even Spot couldn't help but to glance at Irish.
Maybe he hasn't left. Irish twiddled her thumbs, keeping her head lowered to hide her tearful eyes. She wasn't good enough for Ben and he deserved the best. But deep down Irish felt furious. She wanted to scream at Ben for not telling her. Yet it wasn't his job to do so. Why should he care about telling her?
"Okay, quiet down!" Spot said over the bewildered newsies. "Jus' calm down. I'm headin' ovah foist thing tomorrow to go check it out. Till den everyone jus' shut your traps." It was a favor to Irish.
Italy frowned at Spot. He rose from the ground and confronted the leader. "I wanna go with ya, Spot," he said quietly.
Spot stared at Italy for a moment before looking towards Irish but she was gone. He nodded in agreement. "I don't know what's up with Ben but I'm sure he ain't left yet," he told Italy. "Maybe you should tell your sistah da truth. Ben don't share da same feelings."
Italy shook his head. "I can't do dat," he said honestly. "I can't jus' make her feel worse. I think it'd be best if Ben told her himself."
Spot shrugged in response. "He probably ain't even realized how much she likes him yet."
Italy nodded. "Yeah and at foist I thought Ben mighta had some feelins for her but I jus' don't know anymore."
"We'll jus' see what he's up to tomorrow," Spot said.
Irish made her way up the stairs and into the door on the far right. It was the girl's room. Several other girls followed behind, talking amongst themselves. Irish ignored their whispers. She approached her bunk and fell face first on the pillow, hiding her face from the world. What a day she thought sullenly. There were no answers as to why Ben would give up his leadership. There were solutions lingering in Irish's head but she was too confused to even think clearly.
"Oh cheer up, Irish," Delilah said, climbing on one of the top bunks. "The world ain't ovah."
Irish turned over on her back and made a face. The world is too over, she thought childishly. She had to admit she felt kind of ridiculous feeling this way over someone. She couldn't help it, though, because Ben meant something to her. It just wasn't fair.
"Yeah," Tan agreed. "No need to feel so down ovah some guy." She sounded disgusted.
Irish rolled her eyes at their comments. What did they know about being in love? It didn't seem like any of the girls Irish bunked with knew much about guys. Girls in Brooklyn rarely used their femininity to make money. They had more respect than that. So what did Irish know? Nothing…just like the others.
"Okay, I get it," Irish said. "Jus' get off it will ya?"
The girls shrugged and stirred up another conversation. Irish just hid her face in her pillow, hiding from the rest of the world. Maybe this was a dream. Maybe Ben wasn't really stepping down as leader. Maybe if she opened her eyes things will be back to the way they were supposed to be and everyone would be happy. But it wasn't. Things were still the same when Irish looked up from her pillow. None of the other girls looked at her; it was as if she weren't actually there. She preferred it that way.
It was too early to actually go to sleep so instead of sticking around to listen to the chattering girls she quietly left the room. Irish could hear the majority of the newsies downstairs, talking and laughing. She crossed by a table in which some of the newsies were playing a rough game of poker. It was pouring outside, Irish concluded as she stopped to look out the window. The rain came down like hail beating heavily against the roof and windows. It was a spine-chilling noise yet soothing. Nobody could hear her heart silently breaking.
Oh stop overreacting! Irish told herself. You make is seem like he went all across the world. Grow up! She scolded herself as she continued to stare out the window. Though it seemed scary it was magnificently beautiful.
A smile crept on Irish's face. It had to be a misunderstanding. Spot said he only heard it from Jack so therefore it wasn't completely true…yet. Irish felt confident that everything was just misconstrued.
A tap on Irish's shoulder alarmed her as she quickly turned around. "Ey'," Italy greeted her with a tip of his hat. "I wanna ask you somethin'?"
Irish cocked an eyebrow as her brother grabbed her elbow and pulled her away from the Brooklyn newsies. He stared at her briefly before beginning. "I'm goin' with Spot and Rhy tomorrow to see Ben. Do you wanna come along?" His eyes were begging her to say yes.
Irish wanted to immediately tell him yes. She wanted to see Ben – to make everything clear. But a part of her was angry with him and wished to no longer associate with him. "I don't know," Irish admitted dully.
Italy rolled his eyes. "Oh come off it sis, you know you wanna see him. Jus' say yes already," he demanded.
Irish looked to the floor before meeting his eyes. "Fine," she said, "I'll go."