As I had asked the day, the following morning I spent being bored and testing out my disguise on myself. Since school was out for me I didn't have anything to occupy my time like I normally would during the week, and the past two nights I had kept the house tidy even though we weren't going to have any guests over soon, and I wasn't sure if Spot was going to stay for dinner tonight.

Finally he showed up around four in the afternoon with grime and dirt all over his shoes and hands. Instantly I wouldn't let him in until he took off his shoes and washed up in the bathroom. He didn't rebuke to the demands and made a game of me forcing him into the bathroom, making faces at me as I pushed him in. I didn't have him take a shower due to the fact of how awkward it would have been if he had, so the sink would suffice for his cleansing of his face and hands.

As he was in the bathroom I wrapped mother's apron around me and began to prepare the steaks for dinner. I added the basic spices of salt and pepper, but sparingly used my mother's and my favorite herbs thyme and rosemary. Our storage of these herbs was really small due to the fact that they weren't that common in stores here in Brooklyn. But all the same we had it. Tonight I rubbed in a small amount of these herbs into the steaks.

And then the funniest thing happened. Being uncooked the steaks there was still blood in them. As I rubbed the herbs in the blood ran onto my hands, dripping onto the apron. There were countless stains on the white cloth, so smudges of blood on it wouldn't matter to my mother or I. I set the steaks down onto the pan I was going to cook them on and began to wipe the blood onto it. And when I turned after a slight cough behind me, I held my hands apart and my fingers were slightly bent.

Spot stood there with a towel slung over his shoulder and his hair was slick with water. His eyes widened beyond what I had seen them do already. He yelled and rushed over to me. I shrunk away with my hands out away from my body as he advanced with a scared look on his face. I dabbed them my apron and he stopped.

"What are you doing? You need to wash your wound!' he exclaimed taking my hands and dragging me to the sink.

"What do you think you're doing?" I retorted and snatched my hands away from him. He looked at me bewildered at my actions. I shoved my hands under the sink and turned on the faucet, rinsing the blood off my hands. I held my hands up to his eye level and twisted them slowly to show him my fairly unscathed palms. The only wounds on them were ones from school where I pricked myself with the sowing needles and other small sharp objects.

"But there was blood on your hands!"

"I was handling the meat for dinner," I laughed and pointed to the steaks. He looked from my hands to the steaks, and then back and forth a couple times, taking longer to connect than expected. His face softened when he realized the mistake and laughed nervously at himself. I patted his shoulder and giggled slightly.

"I hope I didn't ruin your appetite Mr. Conlon," I stated as I led him to the table to sit down. He shook his head and wiped his forehead of the nervous sweat that had broken out.

"No I haven't lost my appetite Miss Shea. I'm sure you're a good cook. I just thought you had hurt your dainty hands while I wasn't paying attention,"

"Dainty? Not at all. And if I had been hurt I would have taken care of it before you had come out from washing,"

"Then I guess I just made a fool out of myself," he said and I found it odd that a small red cloud crept onto his face. I never imagined a boy blushing before, and didn't expect him to either.

"You didn't make yourself into anything Mr. Conlon. You were just being a gentleman," I reassured. He smirked and nodded slowly as I propped his ego back up.

"You're kinder than normal today Miss Shea," he remarked, turning his head away with a mischievous smirk on his face. I narrowed my eyes in confusion. But I knew he was playing around with that little smirk of his.

"Of course I am Mr. Conlon. Would you rather me kick you out?" I asked coyly.

"Would you kick me out Miss Shea?"

"If you keep calling me Miss Shea I will. I'm just Shea,"

He smiled and patted my head. From there on in the conversation he addressed me as Shea in return for me to call him Spot. It felt weird, most men I talked to always had me say "Mr." before I said any part of their formal name, but I guess it was a part of Spot. His laid back ways and the way he talked made it easier to talk to him. One thing I looked for in people was if they could open up to me. If they acted mysterious and wouldn't talk to me, like most of the girls at the school, well I don't bother with that type of people. What Spot was doing was great. We weren't sharing deep dark and nasty secrets, but we weren't keeping anything important away from each other either.

Around six I began cooking the steaks and he sat at the table boasting about his sling shot aim and how he was the best. No one could touch his bulls-eye aim. He had been practicing since he had first got his as a gift when he was five and never let go of it since.

"I'm the best of the best. No Brooklyn Newsy would deny that either," he would say and I'd as I counted each time he said it. Which was about five times in a small time span.

"What are you giggling about over there Shea? I'm I not allowed to tell you this?" he said with fake mockery.

"Of course you are," I giggled, "But please! No more! One more time I think your head will explode from a big ego!"
"Big ego? Me? Brooklyn Newsies don't have big egos!"

"Say that to the five times you told me you were the best of the best and the three times you said you saved the New York Newsies from getting there buttocks whipped by thugs," I laughed. He smirked and replied coyly, "You're just jealous I lead an exciting life."

I scoffed, "Am not! I am going to lead an exciting life! Just you wait and see! No wait. You won't see because you won't even know I'm doing it 'cause I'm sneaky!"

After saying that I regretted it. I had accidently let a little bit slip out, and more than I intended. My big mouth had a mind of its own, especially when it came to boasting.

"And may I dare ask what is so adventurous that you'll have to be sneaky at?" he asked with a curious raising of his eyebrows. I kept my mouth shut until I could think of something evasive to say.

"It's a secret," I said.

"You can tell me Shea. I like secrets,"

"Nope," I said and turned towards the stove acting focused on the cooking of the steaks. Honestly, it's not that easy pretending to be interested in watching steaks sizzle. As soon as I heard Spot get up, I instantly wanted to turn around and see what he was doing. I crossed my arms as if to be impatient with the slow cooking steak, but was starting to wonder why Spot's footsteps sounded louder than before.

Two hands hit my waist, fingers wiggled on contact and I fell backwards as I laughed out of control as Spot tickled me.

"Tell me!" my assailant whispered with quickening movements in his attack. I squirmed, trying to get away but found myself laughing harder with each second I was being tickled.

"No!" I laughed. He pressed on trying to get me to give in and tell him, and that's when my mother came in through the door, her face red with anger. Spot instantly let go and bowed deeply to her and I straightened my dress and cleared my throat.

"Shea Taylor Macbeth! What is the meaning of this?" she roared.

"Mother. This is Mr. Conlon. I invited him for dinner,"

"Is that so? Without consulting me first? Especially since I'm not home,"

"I beg your pardon Mrs. Macbeth," Spot interjected as he still bowed, "I didn't mean to intrude into your humble abode, but invited to share a meal and attention your daughter has kindly bestowed unto me. And I wouldn't return such compassion with anything rude or lowly like what you are probably thinking of me right now."

Mother's face lessened in tension but didn't smile either. She turned to me and crossed her arms in a simple disappointed manner.

"Your friend here has a brain Shea. Is he going to be coming here often?"

I nodded and she returned it with a slight smile.

"Next time, warn me," She said eyeing both of us. I tapped on his lowered shoulder and he stood straight up. He smirked at me and grinned, "She is as fierce as you. Maybe even fiercer,"

"Now you know where I get it from," I laughed and my mother sighed as she walked to her bedroom in the back of the apartment. Spot nudged me and I went back to the steaks that had been ignored due to the outburst my mother had just caused.

Honestly I thought she handled it much better than I expected. But since Spot had saved his own butt, I guessed he was used to dealing with outraged adults.

"I'm compassionate? Ha!" I mocked and he mocked back by acting scared and stammering mother a couple of times. I shoved him lightly and flipped the meat over. I began to boil the water I was going to use to steam the green beans for dinner as Spot sat down.

When mother returned she began telling us about her boring job and how some of the chickens ran amuck in the factory today. Spot sat there listening to her as I stood there inspecting the steaks and steamed green beans. It wasn't long until they were both talking about jobs and heaven forbid, the Newsies. She winked at me when he looked over at me, and I could tell she was having a grand old time talking to Spot. And then she began to play around on the whole subject about girls joining the Newsies without hinting anything to deal with my plan.

It took Spot sometime to time to think over this question, but decided that he was undecided on that matter. Girls could probably pull off being able to sell papes, but the streets weren't a place for them either. Throughout his explanation I sang inside my head, stubbornly ignoring the fact that my mother was setting up reasons for me not to carry out my plans.

"Do you think my Shea would be able to be a Newsy Mr. Conlon?" mother asked. I glared at him while I served them there steaks and beans. He smirked and said, "Well she isn't push over. And she's loud enough to hear over any crowd's roar. I'm sure she'd do well."

I looked to mother as I sat down, grinning triumphantly as she mulled over what Spot said. Her lips twitched into a smile and nodded. I said grace and we began to eat.

"Well! I haven't eaten this good of food in forever! I'm glad you didn't kick me out Mrs. Conlon. Other wise I would have left not knowing what I was missing!" Spot laughed, and I did too. I was glad he was joining me and my mother and that he would most likely be joining us for weeks to come.

Mother cleared her throat, startling me out of the little daze I was in. I apologized for being strange and shoved a tender piece of meat into my mouth.

When dinner was through Spot volunteered to help me clean up and Mother disappeared into her bedroom again. After ten minutes we were sitting out on the fire escape watching the street lamps flare on now that it had become dark.

"Beautiful," I heard Spot whisper.

"The night? It can be," I agreed. I looked over at him and notice he wasn't looking out over the night. Instead, he was looking at me. He shook his head and chuckled.

"Sure. Tell yourself that," he replied finally. I nudged him slightly and laughed.

"You're getting quiet," I said. He shrugged and smirked.

"Just not wanting to go back yet,"

"Who said we were kicking you out right now?"

"Well it is late, and I don't want to be an intrusion,"

"Trust me Spot, you're not being an intrusion. My mother probably fell asleep and I'm not going to fall asleep anytime soon if you're still here," I said and put my right hand on his shoulder. He smiled like a four year old that got a piece of candy from the barber.

"You're the reason I'm going to keep coming back. Not for money or the delicious food you cook. But the fun you make despite those other things you have," he whispered as he leaned over and put his forehead on my shoulder. I blushed, not knowing what to do with this and did my best to relax. I felt my face grow hotter each second longer he was like that. But I kept him there.

"Shea? Are you blushing?" he asked still in place. I jumped back and he went forward face first onto the ground with a loud thump. He groaned and I scrambled to help him up. He looked at me and I blushed again, and of course he laughed. With a lend of my hand, he stood up to his fool high and only had to slightly look down at me. With one hand he twisted my head slightly to the left and pressed his lips gently against my cheek. I had no idea why I left my hands go slack by my side, but I was glad they did. When he pulled back I blushed and thanking him. I didn't know why I was thanking him but I did. He smiled and tipped his hat.

"Good night Shea," he said and was about to descended down the stairs as quietly as he could on metal steps. I blushed and grabbed his hand. He stopped and turned to face me again. I reached up and pecked his cheek, feeling his face get hot.

"Good night Spot," I giggled and jumped through the window. I closed it and waved good night again. He smiled and jumped, almost falling on the stairs going up. I giggled and he disappeared skipping with glee down the steps. I sat with my back against the wall looking out into the night, my mind intent on new reason to join the Newsies. I whispered my favorite word in the word right now. The one word that was going to make me smile for a long time.

Spot.