Chapter 15

Spot and I laughed as he told me about what happened during former Newsie Nights at Medda's. He told me about the Newsie rally and how they were ambushed, he told me how Race once got so drunk he jumped onto the stage and sang with Medda.

We were almost off the bridge when Spot stopped laughing. He whipped out his cane and put it in front of me, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

"Hey! What's the-" I was cut of when Spot pressed his hand to my mouth silencing me.

He had a scowl on his face, meaner than I had ever seen before. He pushed me to the side of the bridge behind a plat form.

I rolled my eyes and reached my hand up, prying his hand off my mouth. He peeked around the corner from the platform.

"Spot?" I said in a hushed voice.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me next to him, he pointed his finger out and I followed it with my eyes.

"Is dat Sinkah?" I asked.

Spot made a noise of confirmation. I looked closer and noticed him talking to another boy. He looked about two years older than me, the same age as Spot. He was strong and tall, but from I could tell was not very attractive.

"So? He's tawking ta 'is friend. I tawk ta you all da time," I said shrugging his hand off my arm.

Spot looked at me, "Foirst of all, you and me ain't friends, jus' two newsies dealin' wid each othah's existence," I scowled at him, "Second of all, dat's not jus any newsie," I raised my eyebrows, "Dat's Smooth."

I crinkled my face, "Who?"

"Smooth is da leadah of Midtown," he said angrily, "He's been tryin' ta take Brooklyn ovah foah years, but nevah succeeds," he said with a cynical chuckle, "And I'se can only wondah what Sinkah is doin' wid dat ass," he said, accusation laced in his smooth voice.

I grabbed my hair and shut my eyes, "No, no, no, it's not true! Dat is a lie, I know it is. I know Sinkah!" She said, mostly to herself than to Spot.

Spot responded anyways with a mocking laugh, "Ya can't trust anybody in dis world, doll. No one is who dey say dey are, not even you, and not even me," Spot said gesturing between the two of us.

I slapped his hand out of the air, "Who are you to say who I is? Huh? You don' know me," I said in a low growl, my teeth clenched

He smirked meanly, "Dat's da point, Cross. How do I know who you really is?"

I crossed my arms and looked back to Sinker and Smooth who were talking silently to one another at the end of the bridge.

Spot and I waited behind the platform until Smooth left and Sinker began to cross the bridge back into Brooklyn.

Spot walked out from behind the platform, his cane hitting on the cobblestone, his head to the ground. Sinker walked our way and smiled. "Hey Cross, Spot," he greeted, clearly nervous.

Spot looked up at Sinker, his lips pursed in a straight line. "Hey dere Sinkah," he said sarcastically. I thought I could hear Sinker gulp. "Whadda ya doin' in Manhattan this fine day? Shouldn' you'se be out sellin?" Spot interrogated, tapping his cane aimlessly on the ground.

I stood behind Spot, looking at Sinker with a disappointed look, but he never looked my way.

"I was jus'-I finished- I don' know," Sinker finally said looking at the ground, beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, and it was not from the heat.

Spot picked his cane up in both hands, slapping it down hard in the palm of his left hand, "Let me take a crack at dis-at dis whole situation," Spot said, tightly circling Sinker, "I saw you'se tawking ta Smooth. Now, fahgive me if I'se is wrong, but I was sure he is da leadah a Midtown, is he not?" Spot said, staring down Sinker.

I gulped. Spot was a really intimidating person, no wonder why people fear him.

Sinker took a shaky breath, "You'se is right," he said.

"Now, Sinkah, tell me. How long has you been a Brooklyn Newsie?" He said, clearly knowing the answer already.

"Three months, ta be exact," Sinkah said.

"Three months. And how long has we been fightin' wid Midtown?" He asked, once again knowing the answer.

"Four months-"

"Four months!" Spot interrupted, standing in front of Sinker again, looking his right in the face. "Care ta explain Sinkah, and either way, I'se is gonna soak ya," he said circling Sinker again.

This time, as Spot was behind Sinker, he lunged at me, grabbing me by the waist. I was confused at first, but soon became instantly terrified as we reached the edged of the bridge. The only thing blocking me from plummeting to the cold water below was the thin railing.

I hollered and wriggled, people kept walking past as if nothing was happening. Like we were just animals, not people.

Spot froze and looked Sinker right in the eye. Sinker hooked his strong arm around my neck and leaned my slightly over the railing. I screamed and much to my dismay, I felt tears pricking my eyes. "Sinkah! Don'! We'se is friends!" I pleaded.

He laughed, "We ain't friends, it was jus' an act, babe, though I did enjoy da feel of ya lips," he said in a New York accent.

That was all Spot could take of this. He lunged Sinker, smacking him hard over the head with his cane, creating a loud crack sound.

I was instantly dropped to the floor, my heart racing like a horse. I stood up and walked over to Sinkers limp form.

I wiped my eyes and growled as I kicked him hard in the stomach, "Ya damn bummah. I'se oughta kill ya foah dat!" I was hysterical.

Spot pushed my away softly, "Ya stay outta Brooklyn, if I evah hear about ya bein there, I'se'll hunt ya down and make sure ya never touch any land again!"

With that we walked off of the bridge. I looked up at Spot. He was a hero, my hero. He saved me in almost anyway he could, and I never did a thing in return. I promised myself I would help him, save him just one time.

He looked at me, his scowl turned into a smirk, "Like da show babe?"

I blushed, "No," I muttered.

We were deep in Manhattan by afternoon, most of the newsies were at lunch, and others were still out selling. They all avoided us as soon as they saw Spot, and that clearly burst his already large ego.

We reached a place called 'Irving Hall,' and Spot grabbed my hand a pulled me inside.

"Medda!" Spot called, his hands cupped around his mouth, "Medda, it's me, Spot!"

With that I heard foot steps rushing towards out location. A red headed women in a flaunty pink show dress walked down the stairs. "Vell, if it isn't the big man himself!" she greeted in a slight Swedish accent.

The women wore plenty of makeup and her hair was a mile high in curls. Though she was overdone, I was in utter awe of her intense beauty. Her bone structure was superb, and her body voluptuously curvy.

She smiled brightly as she saw me, "Vell, is this da girl I have been hearing of?"

Spot nodded with a smirk, his hands behind his back.

She walked over to me and grabbed both of my hands, "You, my dear, are one of the prettiest girls I have seen in this city. And that is vith out makeup and a dress!" She exclaimed.

I blushed, "Thank you," I muttered, smiling back at her.

"Vell, Spot, I have to kick you out now," she said shooing him out, "You vill see dis angel later, now go! Sell!" She said as she shut the door.

She led me to a room that was filled to the brim with dresses of all sorts. I looked at Medda and smiled. "You vill try everyone one of these dresses until ve find the one," she said.

My mouth hung open. Today would be a long day.

End of Chapter!

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