+Dancing+
"Come on, Skittery. Please?" Tug asked, leaning across the table to stare at him with big pleading eyes. Her bottom lip stuck out ever so slightly, trying to win him over with a dramatic pout.
"No," Skittery replied firmly, crossing his arms against his chest. He already had his mind made up and he would not give in to her, no matter what faces she made at him. "I don't want to."
"Just this once, please?" she said again, a little more urgently. It was probably the twentieth time she had asked him various forms of the same question, but his answer never changed. He was stubborn that way.
"No," he repeated, his eyes widened slightly to prove the point. After that he looked away; the conversation was beginning to agitate him in the worse way. It wasn't like her to nag him for so long about one thing, but here she was doing just that. She usually knew when to let up, before he ever really got angry with her, but that time had come and gone. Skittery gripped the edge of the table as her begging continued.
"One time, Skitts. Just for me." Her eyes were still pleading, though he avoided her gaze. His answer came with the prolonged shaking of his head; he didn't trust what would come out of his mouth if he spoke. One of her hands slapped against the table as she gave a dramatic sigh, brimming with anguish. "Yer impossible sometimes, ya know that?"
"Well, it ain't gonna happen, so quit askin' me," he growled, snapping his frustrated gaze back across the table. He could see the fire lighting inside her as the tension between the escalated. He could sense that she was about to verbalize the thoughts behind that glint in her eye, so Skittery did the only thing he could think of; he pushed himself to his feet and asked, trying to avoid the next half of the conversation, "Ya want a drink or something?"
With her jaw set, Tug narrowed her fiery eyes at him. "No, I don't want a drink. I wanna know why ya never want to dance with me, Skittery?"
He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm his rising irritation. It was taking all his energy to remain in control of his emotions; couldn't she see that? Why wouldn't she just let it go? He didn't understand why it was so important to her. It was such a stupid thing to be arguing about.
"How many times do I gotta tell ya, Tug? I don't dance. Can't ya just leave it at that? I don't dance!" The words escaped louder than he intended to, but they had the desired effect.
"Fine!" she spat, rising to her feet, fists clenched. She glowered in his direction for another brief moment, trying to regain her composure as she contemplated her next move. Drawing in a deep, decisive breath, she smoothed out her skirt, a manipulative little grin spread across her face. "I'll just go find someone that wants to dance with me."
And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked off into the mob of people, packed into the theater's auditorium. Skittery could do no more than blink as he watched her disappear into the crowd. Still smoldering from their exchange--and knowing that the more time he let pass, the harder she would be to find--Skittery couldn't bring himself to go after her. Instead, he thought he'd let his irritation fade by washing it away with a few drinks. So he sauntered off toward the bar without a second glance behind him.
---
Her little plan had backfired. Tug had thought for sure Skittery would have come after her, or even called out to her before she had gotten too far away. But he never did. And when she turned back around--standing on her tiptoes to see between heads--he was no longer in sight. If he had been upset before, the little stunt she had just pulled had probably sent him over the edge. Her heart sank slightly at the thought, but then it quickly began to heat in anger.
One dance with him, that is all she wanted, just one, a slower one. It was not like she was asking him to do anything fancy, nothing that required some special talent; all Tug wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms while they swayed with the music--to look up and see him smiling back at her while they circled the floor like they were the only two people in the room. It was such a small thing to want, but such a simple pleasure seemed unattainable with Skittery.
It was becoming tedious--and almost spiteful--to see every other couple dance together while she watched from her seat on the sidelines. Tug wanted nothing more than to be seen with him as his girlfriend, not just as the girl who is always in his company, because that was how their relationship was beginning to feel, particularly when they were out in public.
Skittery always claimed that he didn't dance, but Tug felt that his reasoning was weak; there had to be some other reason, but he never elaborated. Even Crutchy, who had a real excuse for not dancing, never passed up the opportunity when it arose. But nothing seemed to be able to change Skittery's mind.
"Tug!"
She was shaken from her thoughts by the sound of her name and an arm suddenly looping through her own.
"Yer just the girl I was lookin' for!"
For whatever reason of employment, the number of newsgirls in New York City was slowly rising; the voice in Tug's ear belong to one such newsgirl by the name of Nicolette Porter, better known as Inky in the newsies' world. Inky hailed from Harlem, but often found her way into Manhattan with a certain blond, bespectacled newsboy on her mind.
"You were lookin' for me?" Tug replied as Inky was leading the both of them between the clusters of people.
"Of course, silly," Inky said with a giggle, holding onto Tug's arm tightly as if to keep her from escaping. This caused Tug to wonder if Inky had been sampling some of the stronger drinks from the bar; the girl's cheeks were growing more pink as she spoke. "I was wonderin' if ya might do me a favor?"
Tug pursed her lips, eyeing her friend's hopeful expression with hesitation; Inky always seemed to be scheming in one way or another--whether it was selling her newspapers, playing cards, or trying to win Dutchy's affection. She always had a plan of attack. Tug had known Inky long enough to know better than to agree to something without the details of what she was getting herself into. And considering their current surroundings, Tug could only assume that this had something to do with Dutchy.
"What's the favor?"
Inky stopped abruptly, looking at Tug in a very businesslike manner. "I need ya to dance with Snipeshooter."
Tug quirked a brow, signalling for Inky to continue with a more detailed explanation.
"The thing is, is that Dutchy says he'll dance, but only if Snipeshooter does. So, I was lookin' for a girl for Snipe and I saw ya first. So, I was thinkin' maybe you could dance with him so's I can dance with Dutchy?" Inky's eyebrows pinched together nervously as she bit down on her bottom lip, watching Tug with pleading eyes.
Snipeshooter wasn't exactly who Tug had in mind when she said she would find someone else to dance with, but if it would help Inky's cause then she couldn't refuse. It wouldn't be the worse thing she had ever done for the girl.
"Alright, Ink. If it'll get Dutchy to dance with ya then count me in," Tug said, smiling at the sheer delight beaming from her friend's face.
"Yer the best!" Inky squealed, linking her arm with Tug's again and pulling her at a near run across the room.
Dutchy was sitting at one of the far tables with Snipeshooter, Itey, and Itey's girlfriend, Mia. Inky launched Tug in front of Snipeshooter with such force that had Tug not been connected to her arm, she would have likely landed in Snipe's lap.
"I got someone to dance with ya, Snipeshooter."
Snipe rolled his eyes around to the pair of girls and gave a chuckle, extracting the half burnt cigar from between his lips.
"Awe Inky, that ain't no girl. That's just Tug," he retorted, giving a dismissive wave. "'Sides, the last thing I need is to get Skittery mad; I got enough problems, alright?"
Tug chose to ignore the biting comment about her not being included in the 'girl' category.
Rolling her eyes impatiently, she sent a pointed look at Snipe and said, "You ain't gotta worry about Skittery. Let's just dance, Snipe. It's why I came over here."
"Yeah, Snipey," said Dutchy, jumping into the conversation. "Dance with Tug. It ain't gonna kill ya--unless Skittery finds out."
Watching Dutchy's casual demeanor very carefully--leaning back comfortably in his chair like he wasn't planning on getting up any time soon--Tug got the distinct feeling that he was up to something. She narrowed her eyes at the blond newsboy.
"Shut up, Dutch," she said in response to his little dig at Skittery. "How 'bout makin' good yer promise and dancin' with Inky?"
Dutchy's eyes suddenly had a crafty glint to them as he slid them toward Inky, who was looking at him with no less than hopeful desire. Quickly he looked back a Tug; his lips twitched with a wicked grin. "I didn't make "I didn't make no promises. 'Sides, I said I would dance; I didn't say who it would be with."
Horrified, Tug stole a quick peek at Inky, whose adoring expression dropped instantaneously with his heartbreaking declaration. Tug glared dangerously at Dutchy; she had had just about enough of the Manhattan newsboys' antics this evening. What had gotten into them lately? They were being down right hateful toward everyone--particularly the girls. And it needed to end, now.
Taking one more look at her crestfallen comrade, Tug didn't need to further think her decision; she thumped Dutchy soundly on the head. There was a loud gasp issued from Inky.
"Get up and dance, ya lousy bum!" she instructed loudly, jabbing a finger sharply into his shoulder. "What is with you boys tonight, huh? Yer all acting like a bunch of fools!"
"Alright! Alright!" Dutchy said, raising his hands to surrender. Jumping from his chair, he grabbed Inky by the hand and led her quickly through the crowd. Inky looked back over her shoulder with a wide, appreciative grin.
Following Dutchy's lead--not wanting to get slapped--Snipeshooter pulled at Tug's elbow.
"Come on then, Tug," he said, pulling her in the direction that Dutchy had taken Inky.
They found a spot among the other entwined couples. Snipeshooter positioned one hand awkwardly on Tug's waist. Well, it wasn't the worst dance that Tug had ever experienced, but it came real close; the poor kid had no rhythm, he was completely rigid in his movements, and his footwork was clumsy, often nipping the tips of her shoes. It improved slightly as Snipeshooter relaxed, but then this level of comfort went a little too far for Tug's liking.
"Hand!" she snapped, catching him just before he slipped below appropriate level. She had to repeat herself several times as he seemed unable to control himself.
When the song ended, Tug thanked him politely and was relieved when he made a quick departure. With that little favor complete, Tug looked around, hoping to spot Skittery in the crowd. No luck. Instead, Inky came skipping toward her--all smiles. Without speaking a word, Inky attached herself to Tug once again and lead her across the floor, away from the crowd.
"Well?" Tug pressed, a little surprised that Inky had not already launched into a full detailed report.
"Just wait," she replied vaguely. She led Tug through one of the curtained archways, taking them out of the auditorium. Inky settled onto one of the benches that adorned the hallway and ran her hands over her knees, pressing the wrinkles from her skirt before she dove into the story. "Oh, Tug! I owe ya. I really do! It was absolutely perfect."
She paused for a lovestruck sigh, giving Tug the opportunity to ask,
"How come we had to come all the way out here?"
"I didn't want no one to overhear." And by no one she meant Dutchy, because then she started into the play by play of the whole dance, swooning at each minute detail.
Tug listened attentively, nodding and gasping in all the appropriate places, but after a while her mind drifted away from the conversation. Listening to Inky talk about her feelings for Dutchy left Tug feeling a little guilty about her argument with Skittery. Now all she wanted to do was find him, but she didn't even know where to start looking; they needed to talk, to work out the little spat from earlier. She hated the idea of him being angry with her, especially over something so meaningless.
"Ya know what I mean though, don't ya, Tug?"
Blinking back to the conversation, Tug realized she had no idea what Inky was talking about.
"What?"
"It's just, you've probably felt like that with Skittery before, right?"
"Felt like what?" Tug replied, hoping that her inattentiveness wasn't too obvious.
"Like it's only the two of ya in the room, dancin' without a care, ya know?" Inky explained, a dreamy mist to her eyes.
Shaking her head slowly, Tug gave a dark chuckle and said bitterly. "Actually, I wouldn't know that feelin', 'cause Skittery and I ain't never danced together."
"Ya haven't?" Inky replied with just the right amount of outrage and a sincere expression of shock.
Tug shook her head and sighed. "Nope. Not once. Every time I ask, he says no. I just can't understand why."
"Oh-" Inky started to replied, but then they were interrupted by an invasive, unwelcomed addition to their private conversation. Every muscle in Tug's body tightened as she set a hardened gaze on the one person that she absolutely loathed--Angela.
"Well, this is interesting, isn't it?" Angela said, looking between the two girls with a sarcastic delight, her smile brimming with an evil sweetness. It was quite obvious that Angela wasn't just stopping by for a chat--she had an agenda.
Clasping her hands tightly in her lap, Tug replied through clenched teeth, "What?"
"I couldn't help overhearing yer little conversation-"
"Yeah, I'm sure ya couldn't," Tug muttered audibly. Her eyes flickered toward Inky, who looked perplexed by the intrusion.
"-and I find it really odd that Skittery won't dance with you. We used to dance together all the time," she said, emphasizing the last bit with a touch of arrogance. Something suddenly seemed to strike her funny and she giggled. "I was just with him, actually. He saw me at the bar. He is such a great dancer-"
"Like I'm really gonna believe that," Tug growled, rising defensively to her feet, fists balled at her sides.
Angela gave a dismissive shrug. "That's fine. Though I suppose he just needed someone to take his mind off your latest argument."
Tug surveyed Angela with a fiery glare. The little slip of 'latest' did not go unnoticed. How could she know that they had been getting into arguments a lot lately? With her eyes darting anxiously around the hall, Tug tried to keep her voice even as she spoke,
"What do ya mean, our latest argument?"
"You don't know?" Angela gave knowing chuckle, trying to look as innocent as possible, though it was easy to see that charade. "Skittery been over to see me quite a bit recently. He usually comes late at night."
Not trusting herself to speak, Tug continued to glare, using every amount of will-power she had to keep from slapping the girl who stood opposite her. It was most likely that Angela was lying in the attempt of forming a rift between her and Skittery. There was also the possibility that she was being truthful; Tug knew that Angela wouldn't have any reservations about confronting her, because she wanted Skittery back. Either way, Angela had the motivation to cause problems; it was up to Tug to determine what to believe.
Tug wanted desperately to believe that Angela was lying just to make trouble, but at the same time she had some hesitations. She couldn't help but think of Skittery's behavior over the past few weeks. It had been quite a while since they had last sold together--though this was the least of her concerns, because there other more indicative things to corroborate Angela's statement.
It had been more than two weeks since Skittery last visited the apartment after nightfall. She never really questioned it until now; how could she be sure he stayed with the other boys on those nights? Also, he had been acting a little different toward her, not so affectionate--but then again, they had been arguing a lot, usually about petty little things; how did Angela know about that? The seed of doubt had been planted.
"I mean, if he won't even dance with you, doesn't that tell you something?" Angela added maliciously when Tug didn't respond right away. "It seems to me that he is lookin' for someone more exciting, someone more appealing, someone who can give him what he wants--which is why he came to me."
Now, it was quite possible that had Inky stayed in her seat, Tug might have been able to control the uproar of emotions she had been swept up in. But, as it happened, Inky jumped to her feet, ready to defend her friend and intimidate the opposition, which triggered Tug's instinct to fight. And without really thinking about what she was doing--only knowing that she wanted Angela to feel physically what she was feeling emotionally--Tug lunged forward in attack.
Her fist connected solidly with Angela's cheek and the momentum sent them tumbling to the ground. Both girls yelled, rolling around on the floor, locked in the inevitable battle. Although Tug had the upper-hand, Angela brought forth a good effort, clawing wildly at Tug's face. At one point, Angela caught her with a vicious swipe and Tug could feel the blood ooze down her cheek. Not really concerned with what was happening around them--or the crowd that had gathered--Tug just wanted to make sure that this would be the last time Angela would want to mess with her.
It was a bit shocking when a pair of strong hands grabbed Tug under the armpits and pried her off of Angela. As usual, Tug wasn't ready to give up the fight and she struggled against her restraint, shouting remarks at Angela that would have made her mother cringe. Another man was escorting Angela down the corridor, opposite the direction in which Tug was being taken. It wasn't until Angela was completely out of sight that Tug calmed down, though her face was still flushed with fury.
"Alright, out ya go," said the man who had broken up the fight. He gave her a little shove out the door. The people who were standing around the entrance watched with a mild interest and then turned away.
Tug stumbled a little; Inky, who had followed loyally, hurried forward and caught her arm, steadying her. Tug let Inky guide her to the wall where she was able to lean against the cool brick and finally catch her breath.
"So, that was Angela, huh?" Inky asked with a trace of amusement in her voice. Tug nodded. "Ya can't really believe what she said, can ya?"
Tug shrugged indifferently, drawing in deep breaths. The truth was, she didn't know what to believe. "All that matters is I shut her up."
"Mission accomplished, I think." Inky grinned, patting her gingerly on the shoulder. "So, they ain't gonna let ya back in there tonight. Ya want me to go find Skittery?"
"No. Find one of the other boys, it don't matter who. Ask 'em if they'll walk me home, alright?"
"Yeah, okay," Inky replied, disappearing through the doors to find a candidate.
Tug leaned her head against the brick, unsuccessfully trying to keep her mind clear of everything Angela had said to her, but it kept running through her mind. She was still trying to work out the truth when Racetrack came strolling from the theater, his eyebrows flying high when he caught sight of her.
"What the hell happened to you?"
"I got in a fight," Tug explained with a shrug, pushing herself from the wall.
"No kidding?"
"I take it ya didn't run into Inky before ya came out here?"
"Inky? No. The last time I seen her she was dancin' with Dutchy," Racetrack replied, looking down the dark street. "I'm headin' over to see Graziella. She ain't feelin' so good tonight, so she stayed home."
"Would ya mind walkin' me home first, Race?"
"What's wrong with Skittery?"
"Nothing. Nevermind. Forget it. I'll just wait for someone-"
Sensing that something had happened between Skittery and Tug, Racetrack quickly agreed. "Yeah, alright, come on. I'll walk ya home. Look, he didn't do that to ya, did he? 'Cause if he did-"
"What? No!" Tug interjected firmly, horrified by the very thought of what Racetrack had suggested. Skittery could be down right unpleasant and moody, but she was certain that he would never lay a hand on her. "He and I had an argument earlier and I ain't seen him since. I was talkin' with Inky when Angela came up to us shootin' her mouth off, so I had to set her straight. That's what happened."
Racetrack chuckled, giving his head a shake. "She's still causin' trouble, huh?"
"Yeah," Tug replied quietly. He had no idea of the trouble she had caused. As they walked, Tug recounted the events that lead up to the fight for him.
"Well, I hope she looks worse than you," he replied lightly when she had finished. He then launched into his own story, sharing with Tug everything he had planned for Graziella on their one year anniversary. Glad for a change in subject, Tug listened happily as Racetrack filled her in. She knew for certain that Graziella would adore every bit of it.
What seemed like no time at all, they had reached her apartment building. After saying goodnight, Tug raced up the three flights of stairs and threw herself through the door as quickly as it would allow. The first thing she did was pull off her boots and wiggle her toes, tired from all the walking. Then she scurried around the kitchen, heating some water for tea; she needed something soothing to ease her mind. After that she dipped a towel in water, which she took into the bathroom so that she could see what damage she had to clean up.
Gently she wiped away the dried blood from her face, cleansing the scratches on her face and neck. It looked more like she had been in a fight with a panther rather than another human being. When everything was washed and dried, Tug settled onto the sofa, curling up in her blankets with a cup of tea. She picked up her book and read in the soft, flickering glow of candle lit on the end table until she fell into an uneasy sleep.
---
Tug sat up quickly; the empty cup clattered to the floor. Her drowsy eyes darted around the dark room, unable to pin point what exactly had startled her from slumber. Tug waited, listening closely to the hundreds of other noises echoing throughout the old tenement building. Her heart lept to throat when something tapped against the window pane and she noticed a figure outlined against the window. She calmed slightly when she recognized the pattern being tapped out; there was only one person it could be.
Now fully alert, she crossed to the window, unhinged the lock, and carefully slid it open.
"What d'ya want?" she grumbled, peering at him through the opening. She rubbed at her sleepy eyes to bring him into focus. He looked all out of sorts, like he had run the whole way from Irving Hall.
"What do I want?" he spluttered, unprepared for the less than warm welcoming. He gawked at her in momentary disbelief before throwing up his arms. "Hell, I dunno, Tug. I might want to know that yer alright, considering you was in a fight. And then ya just disappeared without telling anyone--so I might want to make sure ya made it home. Why didn't you wait for Inky to find me, huh?"
Tug slipped onto the fire escape, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm. She narrowed her eyes at Skittery. "I didn't just disappear, alright? Racetrack was goin' to Graziella's so I walked back with him; he just happened to be there at the right moment."
"You couldn't wait for me?" Skittery asked, his anger mixed with hurt.
"I waited for you once tonight, but you didn't come; I wasn't makin' the same mistake twice. If you'd have come after me the first time, none of this would have happened."
"I see. So yer blamin' me for all this? Just because I wouldn't dance with you?" he asked just to clarify. She nodded; he groaned. "So I didn't want to dance. What is the big deal?"
"It's a big deal, Skittery, because you never want to dance with me. Why is that? Why won't you dance with me at Medda's?" She took a step toward him, trying to find an explanation in his eyes, but he looked away. Tug felt her throat tighten as tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to choke them back, speaking the next words in a very small, strained voice. "Are you embarrassed by me?"
This had crossed her mind a few times before tonight, but everything that Angela had said seemed to zero in on that particular fear. Her appearance was something that Tug always struggled with, but her hair had grown out a little so she didn't think she looked as much like a boy anymore. In fact, she rather liked the length it was at, particularly because she thought that the one person who mattered liked her just as she was--but perhaps something had changed. She hated to think that, but what else could it be?
"What?" he exclaimed, a little louder than he should have. He seemed genuinely surprised by her accusation.
Tug took a breath, her voice trembling as she elaborated. "I can't think of any other reason why you wouldn't want to dance with me. Is that it? You don't want to be seen with me?" She paused to collect herself before laying out her most recent discovery. "I mean, Angela said you used to dance with her."
Skittery's eyes widened, like a deer caught in the headlights, confirming the truth behind that statement. Tug felt his reaction stab at her heart; if that little piece was true, what else other things held truth? Tears rolled down her cheeks when Tug closed her eyes, trying to remain calm as she continued, her voice cracking with emotion.
"It ain't just the dancin', Skittery. I mean, we haven't sold together in ages. It been so long since you've visited me like this. And when we're together, I don't really feel like we're together. I mean, it almost feels like you don't want to be with me anymore. And if that's the case, then please, just tell me now, because I can't go on like this any longer. Go and be with Angela, if that's what you want."
She had said it all--everything that was on her mind. All she could do was wait for him to decide what it was he wanted. There was complete silence between them while Skittery let her words sink in, turning them over in his head. After a few minutes, his feelings were collected, but the words for an explanation still hadn't come to him. He had to do something to show her that this wasn't the end; he pulled her close to him, folding his arms around her and resting his chin on the top of her head. She wasn't quick to accept this gesture, but after a few moments her arms were hugging his middle. It was the reassurance he needed, to know that things would be alright between them--and then the words found him.
"Do you remember the fight we had--I think--two weeks ago; the one where ya walked out of the lodge?" He felt her nod against his chest. "Well, you don't know this, but the fellas gave me a real hard time about it. Goin' on about how I can't keep a girl around for very long, 'cause I always do something to mess it up. Well, it got me thinkin' and I realized they was right; I've never had a girl for very long. I suppose I never thought about it before because I didn't really care about those girls. But with you, Tug, with you I do care; I don't want to mess anything up between us. So I thought that maybe if I backed off a little that I would be less likely to screw things up--but I see that didn't work out either."
"No, it didn't," Tug replied bluntly. She leaned back so that she could see his face. "You should've just talked to me, Skitts. I had no idea what was happening, and then Angela had to turn up and start talkin' like you went back to her."
"And ya believed her?" Skittery groaned, eyes closed.
"Not completely, but I couldn't just ignore what she said, Skittery."
"Well, what did she say?"
"She told me that you used to dance with her; that you'd been seeing her at night 'cause-" Tug's voice got smaller as she quoted the next part. "-yer lookin' for someone more appealin' who can give ya what ya want. I mean, she knew we'd had an argument. How could she know that?"
Skittery shrugged. "I dunno. She was probably watchin' us or something, waiting for a reason to jump in and do exactly what she did. Look, Tug,-" His voice softened and he cupped her face between his hands, lifting her chin so that he had her undivided attention. "-none of this--dancin' or anything over the last couple of weeks--has anything to do with me bein' embarrassed by you, 'cause I ain't, not even a little bit. You should know that Angela can't give me what I want, because I want you." He smiled. "And if ya really want to, the next time we're at Medda's, I'll dance with ya until our feet fall off."
Tug grinned, placing her hands over his. "Promise?"
"Promise," he assured her. A silence settled over them again, but this time there was no tension in the air. Skittery ran this thumbs gently over the marks on her face. "From the fight?"
"Yeah."
"It's my fault," Skittery said, holding her tightly in his arms. "I'm so sorry."
"I'm not," Tug replied, pressing against him. She wasn't sorry, not for how the night ended up. This was exactly where she wanted to be--with Skittery.
Ever so slowly, he started to sway back and forth, humming a song in her ear, and that night, it felt like they were the only two people in the universe.