Updated: 4-12-08

Disclaimer: I have no delusions about owning or holding rights over Newsies; you shouldn't either. Don't sue.
Also, any pop culture references...guess what? Don't own those either. Actually...anything that you may have heard of and/or recognized in this story is owned by someone who isn't me.

Warning:Updates may (and probably will be) slow.
This contains SLASH, in other words same sex couples. If this doesn't appeal to you, you shouldn't be here. It also contains drug use, violence, sexual situations, and may contain a(n OC) death. This story is marked for mature readers only, please treat it as such.

Pairings: Will be switching around quite a bit. If you have any preferences please let me know. They probably won't end up together unless I already planned for it to happen, but I can put in a couple flings for you if you ask nice enough

Getting Back Together Again

II
Spot's First Day

"This it? Damn man…Manhattan," Slingshot muttered while Spot just ignored him and slammed the car door shut after he got outside.

He was a little pissed off about the fact that he was so far away from his turf…he felt…he didn't know…but it was fucking annoying…uncomfortable he guessed…with leaving his pride and joy so open like he was. It used to be that whenever anyone tried to stir up shit he'd cut class and go beat the shit out of someone and it'd be over in a half hour at most...it would be a bit harder now. He'd have to walk, or take public transportation, or call for a ride and by the time he got there his poor Brooklyn had the potential to be very fucked up.

But it wasn't good to really dwell on things like that. True, he did need to think of a better plan and he was definitely going to…but to make those plans he was going to need a lot of concentration and he doubted that he could concentrate with the annoyance and loudness of teachers everywhere around him. He had always felt a little edgy around people who thought they held authority over him.

He walked into the office with a frown on his face and if anyone in the office would have known him at all they wouldn't have been sitting around, just doing paper work and typing peacefully on computers. Unfortunately they didn't and his frown was accepted as simply the attitude all teenagers sported.

"Your name please?" the secretary asked with a fake smile.

"Sean Conlon," Spot answered with boredom.

"The new student?"

She continued when the boy didn't say anything. "Well here's your schedule and…David, honey?" she asked, looking toward the only other boy in the office. He was currently going through files in a cabinet and looking rather distraught.

"Ma'am?" the kid asked, putting the file he was looking through on the cabinet and giving her his full attention.

Spot gave a silent snort…what a fucking suck up.

"Could you please take our new student to his first class? He has his schedule but I'm afraid he doesn't really know the lay out of the school just yet," the secretary asked sweetly.

"Of course," the kid agreed, turning to Spot and smiling. "C'mon. What's your first class?"

Spot walked out following the kid. He was seriously going to hurl if the little bitch kept up the lollipops-and-rainbows act. He gave the kid his schedule, not saying anything.

"Uh…it looks like…Current Events," David pointed out, "It's over this way."

"Oh, um…I'm David by the way," the boy said after a few more seconds of quiet.

After a few more minutes the boy named David stopped walking and looked towards Spot.

"What?" Spot finally snapped.

"Well…uh…" David struggled, scrunching his eyebrows together and looking like he was at a loss for words, "Usually…I mean, it's polite to…uh…you know…well…you know…I mean…I just… What's your name?"

"Sean," the Brooklyn boy answered before looking expectantly at David.

"Oh, right, your class…uh…that's over here," David said, walking across the hall and up a few doors. He paused at the room. "Well, I've got to get back to the office, but I'll be happy to answer any questions you have…it looks like we have the same lunch…so…"

Oh joy…was pretty much the only thought that crossed Spot's mind. Him having lunch with David translated into 'needing to find someone to sit with before lunch, otherwise David would think he was lonely and try to kill him with his irritating kindness'.

Or he could just cut during lunch. That was a thought he enjoyed.

He decided to think more on his decision later before knocking on his new first period classroom door.

"Are you the new student?" the teacher who had come to the door asked.

Spot just walked in. Obviously he was the new student, who the hell else would he be?

"Uh…class, this is Sean Conlon, he just transferred so-"

"He looks like a punk," a girl loudly observed as she burst out laughing, "Which is just so funny because he's so damn short!"

"Tracy! That is very rude. You will-"

"Yeah?" Spot asked, tuning the teacher out, "So tell me, is your brain as small as your tits?"

"Young man! I expect you to behave like a gentleman in this class. I'll let you off with a warning this time because you're new, but this is your only warning. We do not disrespect each other here. Take a seat next to Anthony," the teacher demanded after she finished her lecture, pointing towards one of the corners of the room. "As for you Tracy, you are not a new student, therefore you will not be let off as easily. You go down to the office and you tell them-"

Spot tuned the teacher out again, snorting silently to himself. Punching people was always so much more satisfying than just listening to a teacher yell at them.

"You're beside me," the boy Spot could have only assumed was Anthony said. The kid was definitely not looking for a new friend (it was rather evident in his tone) and that was just the way Spot wanted it…now if only that guy named David would get the hint.

It was about fifteen minutes into the class when Spot changed his mind…it would be really great if Anthony would talk to him…because it would distract him from his new teacher's annoying lecture…or story…or whatever the hell it was that she kept going on about.

"Well, enough about all of that," the teacher said, finally ending the torment, "This is a Current Events class, so let's have some current events. Does anyone have any recent news that they want to talk about?"

"Tony?" the teacher asked, turning towards the boy Spot was sitting next to when she noticed he wasn't paying attention, "Do you have a current event you would like to talk about?"

"Uh…I heard that gang in Brooklyn…well their leader was arrested or something like that," Tony shrugged.

Spot blinked, a little taken aback; if people thought he was arrested then it'd stir up a lot of shit…shit he'd have trouble shutting up from Manhattan. Well fuck, that wasn't good.

"Good subject," the teacher congratulated, "How many people believe that the leader of Brooklyn was arrested? And why? Everyone get out a piece of paper and a pen and tell me your opinions in a few sentences."

Spot rolled his eyes and stole the pen and paper from the kid sitting behind him, only being met with an indignant expression that Spot easily ignored. In handwriting even messier than his normal scrawl he quickly wrote:

The leader of Brooklyn wasn't arrested because he's not stupid enough to get caught by half-wit police officers.

After that he shoved his paper aside and leaned toward Anthony. "Where the hell did you hear that Brooklyn's gang leader got arrested?"

Suddenly everyone started whispering, appearing to be done…or disinterested (which was just as good of a guess if not better).

"I heard it when I went down there yesterday…there were rumors about him flying all over the place…I just picked one," Racetrack shrugged.

"What other rumors?" Spot asked quickly, eager to learn more. He'd have to seriously look into this, which meant he was probably going to have to find a pay phone and call Slingshot. Lucky for him his second-in-command had decided to ditch high school for today.

"I don't know, there were tons…uh…one said he moved, one that he was killed…" Tony shrugged, not really seeing why it was so important.

"Were there any that claimed he was still the leader?"

"Not that I remember…there was one saying that he was such a good fighter the CIA took him in the middle of the night and he works for them now…uh…that's pretty much the closest one to him still leading anyone."

Spot grunted and turned away from Tony to look towards the front of the room. All the rumors led up to the fact that he was no long in command over Brooklyn, which meant that serious precautions had to be taken. He'd have to come late to his next class and just say he got lost, that way he'd have some time to call Slingshot and start doing everything that needed to be done to prohibit any big uprising.

"Uh…why are you so interested in the Brooklyn gang leader?" Tony asked, still looking at the new kid.

Spot turned in his seat to look at the other boy again and shrugged. "I guess I just like the gossip," he lied…and pretty damn well for someone who wanted to kill himself for uttering that sentence.

" Um…right," Tony said, not really quite believing it because out of everything that Sean's personality gave off, liking gossip wasn't part of it.

But the bell rang before Racetrack could inquire anymore and the new student bolted for the door, shoving his paper into the teacher that was busy collecting them all.

Second period was probably the best period of Racetrack's day. Not only did Blink and Mush have the same class, but also it was practically a study hall. He'd forgotten what the class was called, but it pretty much consisted of a test per day, asking your opinion about one to five different things. Then the rest of the class was spent pretty much doing whatever the hell you wanted.

"Oh hey, we got this new kid, have you seen him yet?" Racetrack asked his two friends as soon as the tests were finished.

"Nope, apparently I'm not a very good gossip queen. So, what do you know about him?" Blink asked, swinging his chair around so he was facing Racetrack as Mush did the same from beside him.

"He's…I don't know…he's kind of weird. He came in after first period started, insulted Tracy, asked what I heard about Brooklyn's leader, and then just stared at the wall for the rest of class. He also bolted when the bell rang, I'm serious, I don't even think Swifty could have beaten him out the door." Racetrack looked uncomfortable for a bit. It pretty much always happened whenever they talked about their old friends because everything was sort of unclear between them.

"Is that all you have to say? C'mon Race, was he hot or cute or ugly or what?" Mush asked, gratefully breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"You're never interested in people just for their looks. You've always disapproved of it," Blink pointed out. "And you're not even gay," he added as an after thought.

"I'm not asking for me. Plus, I would never trust Race to tell me what guys are hot or not, we have completely different tastes. (...One of which is the fact that I don't even like guys.) I just wanted to see what Race thought of him. So…" Mush asked again, "Is he hot?"

"Uh…I wouldn't really say 'hot'…uh…he's more…the cute type I guess," Racetrack answered a bit reluctantly because while he trusted his friends with his life he still really didn't want to discuss anyone who he thought was cute or not.

"What does he look like?" Blink pressed as he got more into it, "You've got to give us more details than that."

"Uh…he's got kind of a girly face, and he's really skinny…and um…he's pretty short I guess," Racetrack explained. "But I mean…he's definitely not the girly type…though I don't really think he can fight…'all bark and no bite', you know? But he…I mean I never really saw him check anyone out (unless you count the comment he made about Tracy's breasts being too small…but then again that wasn't a big secret to me either, so that really doesn't prove much of anything) and he definitely doesn't seem gay…" Race caught himself from his rambling and looked at his friends.

"Someone has a crush," Blink sang quietly.

"No I don't," Race denied, "It's just, you know, I appreciate how attractive he is, but there's definitely not going to be anything between us. I mean he's weird and…I don't know…obsessed with the Brooklyn gang leader."

"Oooh, maybe he has a crush on the gang leader…it's like a love triangle," Blink gushed, clearly only doing so to piss off Racetrack.

"Shut up, Kid, he's not even gay…so unless the Brooklyn gang leader is actually a chick…he doesn't have a crush," Race argued.

"Yeah, you tell yourself that so you can sleep at night without taking a chance to go out with a hottie," Blink argued back.

"I've actually heard that rumor…that the Brooklyn's gang leader was actually a girl," Mush broke in.

"Bullshit," Racetrack wrote off immediately, "Have you even been down to Brooklyn? There's no way a girl could even survive in a gang period, let alone be a gang leader. Even if a girl did enter a gang, she'd be raped and killed way before she made it to the upper ranks."

"That's a nice thought," Mush replied sarcastically.

"I go to the racetrack in Brooklyn every Saturday, believe me…gangs are hard-core over there," Race continued.

"How did this conversation turn to gangs? I thought we were talking about hot guys…let's get back on track boys," Blink persuaded, knowing that if he didn't Racetrack would get pissed because he knew Brooklyn better than Mush and Mush would start to frown thinking about all the unfortunate people that got wrapped up in gangs.

"Slingshot," Spot greeted as soon as the phone was picked up at the other end.

"Boss, glad you called, rumors are flying all over the place saying you're dead and shit."

"I heard," Spot answered with great displeasure in his voice. "Send someone out who's trustworthy but people don't know. Uh…get What's-His-Name…Shakey…Twittery…."

"Tremble?"

"That's the one. Okay, send him out into the streets, just telling people I'm alive and am still in the same…position," Spot commanded, looking around for people coming through the hall, "I have not stepped down and I don't intend to. Next, send someone with a car over here so just in case a fight does break out I can be there as fast as possible."

"Who do you want?"

"Speed, Slingshot, if I want a car I always want Speed. How the fuck do you keep forgetting that?"

"Sorry, okay, so we need Speed and Tremble. What else are you planning on doing?"

"Send most of the small time recruits out into the streets and see if they hear anything about any fights…and I mean any, got it? If it sounds even a little like a fight beginning or if people are planning for one they are to report it immediately."

"Yessir."

"Do the usual checks too; both offensive and defensive weapons need to be gone over to make sure everything works. If it doesn't hand it over to Gadget and if he can't get it to work tear it up for parts and smash everything else. And by smash I mean 'breaking it so fucking bad there is no way to use it or to even know if it used to be a weapon'." Spot glanced around the hall, expecting bad luck to smack him in the back of the head and put the principal directly behind him while he talked about things that could easily get him expelled…not that he would have really minded being expelled…but if he didn't go to school his life would start to become a little dull, so he kept going in the hopes that something exciting would happen.

"Smashing…no worries there…most people here would enjoy breaking things immensely."

Spot smirked, "As for you, you are to oversee everything, stick to the plan, and feel free to use my name to get things done faster or if something needs tweaking and they decide not to listen to you."

"Wow…I'm like…in charge and shit."

"You're second-in-command, what the fuck did you expect? Just don't you dare think for one minute you own Brooklyn, because Brooklyn is mine. If you don't follow my orders or if you do something behind my back I won't hesitate to end your life," Spot threatened, "Any changes you make, no matter how small, you are to tell me, either face-to-face or in a file report."

"We don't have file reports," Slingshot pointed out.

"Well then, if you'd rather file reports than talk to me you better start getting it together."

"Thanks so much for that option," Slingshot said, rolling his eyes even though Spot couldn't see him.

"Get started," Spot demanded, hanging up the phone and feeling grateful that he hadn't run out of pocket change. He stretched, feeling at least a little more at ease before walking around the school in an attempt to find whatever classroom he was supposed to be in.

"New kid?" Specs asked quietly as he pretended to read his textbook. "What's he like?"

"Uh…shy, I guess…he didn't really talk much," David answered just as quietly.

"So? Is there a reason we're talking about this kid in the classroom with the bitchiest teacher in the school?" Specs asked, discreetly looking around for said teacher.

"Well…this is the only class we have together before lunch," David explained, "and I was kind of hoping he could sit with us…but then I remembered that you don't really like new people if you meet them through a friend (which is more than a little weird if you ask me). In other words, I wanted to check it over with you before I invited him to our table or something."

"Oh well…I guess it's okay…I mean it's not like he'll have anyone else to sit with and I'm not going to be a bastard," Specs agreed.

David smiled. "Thanks Specs."

Specs shrugged. "Eh, what can I say? I'm a swell guy like that," he answered with some sarcasm.

"Alan! No talking! You are to write 'I will not talk in class' one hundred times, on one side of loose leaf paper and I want it on my desk first thing in the morning," the teacher yelled at Specs.

David just gave him an apologetic smile and shrugged when his friend glared angrily.

Third period Skittery and Itey were assigned seats next to each in the back of class. Ironically they had been placed there while in the middle of a fight and weren't too flattered with the idea then.

But things were different now, definitely more relaxed. Skittery stopped trying to run away from the idea of a relationship and Itey stopped pressuring him. Amazingly, they still dated girls whenever they wanted and only really showed any affection towards each other to creep out Bumlets (which seemed to be getting harder the more he got used to it). Now they were more fuck buddies than anything else, but quite honestly neither really knew what was going on between them and neither one really cared all that much to change the relationship and risk losing it.

"I wonder if Mr. Wisel would care if we started making out," Skitts whispered into Itey's ear as soon as class started.

"You're kind of a slut," Itey stated, acting as if this were the first observation of his friend's slutty tendencies he had ever made. "What? Are you looking to be outed?" And even though he smiled good-naturedly his stomach twisted in anticipated because Skitts was the one with all the trust issues and being outed was a fucking huge step.

"I'm just bored. The Weasel's not only a bad teacher, he's also rather unpleasant to look at," Skitts replied, seeming to be completely oblivious towards all the second meanings of Itey's question.

"Yeah, I'm definitely in agreement with you," Itey chuckled, quickly letting go of any disappointment, because really, this thing with Skitts was just casual and he needed to start treating it like that.

"So what class do you have after this?" Itey asked after some moments of silence.

"Uh…Chemistry…though really all we do is sit around and talk, so it's not actually Chemistry at all, the class just pretends it is," Skitts explained, "Even the fucking stoners are getting 'A's."

Itey snorted quietly and rolled his eyes, "Dude, you do realize the stoners that you're talking about...not only are they your friends but you're considered a stoner yourself, right?"

"Yeah, like I said, even I get 'A's in that class."

"You wanna ditch fourth period then?" Itey asked, chuckling silently.

"Don't you have that computer class? I thought you really liked that. Are people making fun of you and calling you a geek?" Skitts asked, the second question asked with sarcasm.

"More like I got done on a project due at the end of next week, and all we're doing is finishing them up so there's not much for me to do anymore."

"That's what you get for being an over-achiever, man; serves you right."

"So? Come ditch with me. Since lunch is fifth period we can just cut out, eat something, and come back in time for sixth," Itey explained.

"God, even your plans to ditch are well thought out. How the hell are you not in Honors classes?"

"It's a waste of time; it's not like I'm going to college or anything. Plus, if I did have all honors classes I wouldn't see any of you or Dutchy."

"Bumlets takes honors classes?" Skitts asked when he noticed Bumlets wasn't on the list, even though he didn't quite believe it.

"Just for math; the kid's a fucking genius with numbers, I swear."

"Psch, that just means he's obviously not smoking enough pot," Skitts brushed off.

"Oh man, your head is severely fucked up," Itey laughed.

Spot ran straight back to the phone as soon as third period let out. "Slingshot, what's the news?"

"Either really good or really bad."

"Can't find any fights? Not even one has broken out?" Spot asked with surprised after he jumped to the conclusion of what his second-in-command meant.

"Uh…one, but they were drunk and way too old to care about gangs."

"Keep on the-" Spot started before an annoying tapping on his shoulder interrupted him. "What the hell do you want?" he snapped.

"Uh…sorry to interrupt you but…um I really need to use the phone so, I mean, if you don't mind…" Mush said, trying to be as polite as possible.

"I do," Spot answered.

"What?" Mush asked, a little surprised at his answer.

"I do mind, so fuck off," Spot answered before turning back to his phone conversation.

"Who was that?" Slingshot asked, thinking that thanks to some miracle Spot had actually found a contact at the school.

"Some fucktard," Spot explained, aware that the 'fucktard' in question was still behind him. "Anyway, keep checking…it's way too unbelievable that no one's trying to fuck shit up."

"Eh, I don't know, there are so many stories circulating about you that no one really trusts in them anymore. And they definitely wouldn't have enough balls to go through with something that could get them killed based on a fucking a rumor."

"Yeah, alright. ...So this fucktard needs to use the phone or something. Bye Babe," Spot said.

Slingshot immediately knew what he was doing. "Oh god, don't use me to help you freak some poor kid out."

"Oh, and tell your mom I'm sorry I missed her, I had some shit to do…mostly you. Anyway, I'll get her tomorrow," Spot continued, leaning his side against the wall so he wasn't looking at the kid who wanted the phone.

"Oh hey, since you're not hanging up right away I'd thought I should tell you: Speed bought a new car or painted his old one or did some illegal shit to get it…"

"Oh c'mon, threesomes aren't so bad…I'll talk you through it," Spot answered.

"Anyway," Slingshot continued, completely ignoring his boss, "he's just going to be waiting for you outside the school doors…the backdoors I'm guessing, because for some reason he doesn't like the ones out front."

"What's it matter if it's your mom?" Spot asked, still seeing that the guy who wanted the phone hadn't left, but instead just stood there trying not to look disgusted.

"…I mean everywhere, not just at the school, though I'd imagine you already knew that. It really is fucking weird though, don't you think?" Slingshot finished.

"No, baby, I talked to your mom and she's fine with it," Spot replied.

"Right, anyway, so his car's red now," Slingshot pushed on, "Either that or blue. No, maybe it's white? Okay, honestly, I don't really know, but I'm sure you'll find him."

"It's your mom's problem to worry about your dad, Hun," Spot said, "Look, if it'll make you feel any better he can join in too."

"Okay, can I go now?" Slingshot asked, "Because to be completely honest this is starting to gross even me out. My dad? Seriously, man? Ew."

"Well see? Problem solved. Bye Babe," Spot answered, finally hanging up the phone. "It's all yours," Spot smiled, patting the other boy's shoulder slightly before walking down the hall and letting himself release a silent but happy chuckle before he started looking for what class he had next.

Mush looked more than a little disgusted and he could still feel where the other boy's hand had touched him and…ugh…that was just beyond awful. He walked away without using the phone.

Jack stared ahead at the wall as fourth period began. He had never noticed how boring this class was before; he always had Swifty cracking a joke or whispering excitedly into his ear. But Swifty had taken off so he sat in his seat with nothing to do.

"Hey Jack," Sarah smiled as she turned around in her seat so she could face him. The teacher drowned on, either not seeing the disruption of the class or not caring.

"Sarah," Jack smiled, he didn't even know she had this class with him, which helped him realize how much of a distraction Swifty really was.

Sarah was a cheerleader. She was certainly not high up in command in her clique (probably because of her brother David and his low social status), but she was still a cheerleader and therefore deemed cool enough by his friends to talk to Jack without a riot breaking out.

"I absolutely detest this class," Sarah said, rolling her eyes at something the teacher said that Jack didn't quite catch. "And there are zero good parties this weekend too," she continued to grumble. "I don't suppose you've heard anything."

Jack shrugged, "Swift or Masson will probably end up throwing a pretty good one together if they do well at the track meet this afternoon."

"I hope it's at Masson's house…Swifty's is a bit cramped, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," agreed the boy who regularly slept in the back seat of cars, "I know exactly what you mean."

"I'd throw it at my house but…well you know…with David and everything…he'd probably want to come and be a huge embarrassment."

Sarah lived in one of the good houses, which were clear across town from the poor houses where Jack crashed every night. It was like the two places kept as far away from each other as possible and the people living there did the exact same thing.

"Right, yeah," Jack laughed, trying hard not to think about how he had once been great friends with David.

"But Masson's house is huge, so it's not like I have any problem partying there," Sarah continued on happily.

"Yeah," Jack agreed again, trying to keep his mind off the lecture and focus on Sarah.

"Hey, why don't we ever have a party at your house? You don't live in one of those run down houses on the other side of town anymore, do you?" Sarah asked, whispering the second question as if it would be embarrassing if anyone ever found out that Jack was once poor…and really, it kind of would be.

"Nah, I moved out of that rat hole before freshman year," Jack answered truthfully enough.

"So? Why have you never had a party there?"

"I don't know…it seems like whenever I could there's an already excellent party planned. Plus, I mean, I don't really like all the work associated with being a host; I'd rather just attend."

"Yeah? Well I guess that makes sense, especially with our group of friends; they don't really clean up after themselves at a party, do they?" Sarah asked with a smile.

Spot looked around the lunchroom, quickly sliding into the crowds as soon as he saw David. Unfortunately the other boy seemed to have already seen him, as he was walking in his direction and smiling.

Spot immediately found the closest group of people and sat down with them. He didn't notice the odd stares he got from the four other guys; he was too busy smirking in triumph as David's face fell and he walked away.

"Uh…hi," Dutchy greeted, a little confused at to why this kid was sitting with them since no one ever went anywhere near them unless all the other groups had abandoned him. And even if people did sit with them they always looked quite pissed about it while this kid was smirking and looking…proud, he guessed. "I'm Dutchy."

"Skittery," another boy announced.

"Itey," the third boy said, talking around the food in his mouth.

"Bumlets," the last one grumbled out.

"And you're…" Dutchy began when the other boy failed to state his name.

"Sean," Spot answered, turning towards the group and letting his smirk turn back into a frown.

"So what'd you do to get banished here?" Dutchy asked, trying to keep up a conversation.

Spot just looked at him.

"Why are you sitting with us?" Itey rephrased for his friend.

Spot glared before deciding it wasn't a big deal to answer, especially since if these people dumped him there was no doubt that David would come by a scoop him up. "I had to get away from an annoyance."

"Ah, good idea. No one ever comes by us," Skitts explained.

"But…uh…seriously? You might not want to sit with us…because if you do you're going to turn into a social outcast just like all of us," Itey explained.

Spot let out an amused sound from the back of his throat. "Yeah, and I care what a bunch of pansy-assed high schoolers think of me."

Itey shrugged, "Just letting you know."

Spot didn't answer, silently thinking that if it meant David not talking to him (which certainly seemed the case since he had quickly turned away) then he didn't really care about anything else.

Spot stood in the front of the room and rolled his eyes as his sixth period teacher introduced him to the class. Seriously, did they have to keep reminding people that he was new? Gossip spread like a forest fire between high schoolers; they already new about him before he was even introduced at this point.

"You can sit right there, Mr. Conlon, next to Mr. Stevens," the teacher said (apparently done with pointing him out to the class) as he pointed to a two-person table where only one person sat.

"Call me Specs," the boy said as soon as Spot had sat down next to him. "You're that new kid David wanted to have sit with us, right?"

"Is there more than one new student?" Spot asked, a little irritated at the other's stupidity.

"Uh…no, I guess not," Specs answered before continuing, "Anyway, David was kind of bummed out when you sat with Bumlets and the others. Do you mind sitting with us next lunch period?"

Spot turned to the other boy and paused for a few seconds before giving a very stern "Yes" and turning back to the front of the classroom.

"What? Yes?"

"Yes, I do mind sitting with you morons, so, no, I won't do it," Spot tried to explain.

"Look, David's kind of…well…I mean, he likes to feel appreciated," Specs pressed on, "He'll feel really bad for weeks if you don't."

"But I won't be around him so I don't give a shit," Spot explained, not turning towards the other boy this time.

"So? What do you want? State your terms," Specs offered.

Spot gave another amused grunt from the back of his throat. "You really don't have anything that would make me sit with that suck-up."

"Twenty bucks," Specs tried to bargain.

"Twenty bucks will only work if you don't care if I spend my lunch beating the shit out of your friend," Spot warned.

"Fifty bucks?" Specs asked, not as sure that this would work.

"Fifty bucks now and fifty bucks later," Spot answered.

Specs hesitated, because as unbearable as Dave would be for quite a while if Spot never sat with them, being out a hundred bucks was pretty extreme.

"If you keep hesitating I'll up it to two hundred," Spot threatened nonchalantly.

"Okay, okay," Specs finally decided. "Here's the fifty bucks," he said, digging into his wallet. "You sit with us on Monday and I give you the other fifty in this class, deal?"

"Yeah, whatever," Spot answered back, swiping the fifty bucks from the other boy and swiftly putting it into his own wallet.

Blink stretched as he walked towards his seventh period class, wishing he could cut out early. Unfortunately his big test was for eighth period so he had to stick around.

He stumbled into his class (art) and quickly took a seat next to an easel. The art teacher was pretty easy going and let the students sit wherever they wanted, as long as they didn't switch seats after class officially started. Blink really enjoyed the freedom, but at the same time Mush and Racetrack didn't take art, so he didn't really have anyone to sit next to. Instead he just rushed into class to be the first one seated and let the rest of the students decide who was sitting next to him.

And today he didn't know who it was.

"Hey," he greeted, "Blink."

Spot turned to look at the idiot that he was forced to sit next to and gave him a look that made it clear that he thought the other boy was stupid. Why the hell was he supposed to blink?

"Uh…I mean, that's my name: Blink," the boy corrected as if he knew he knew exactly what the other boy was thinking.

"Sean," Spot sighed, knowing that if he didn't answer he'd probably just get bothered until he did.

Luckily, before Blink could respond the teacher swept into the room.

"Okay class, listen up: get paint and canvases. Today we're going to be doing an exercise about expressing feelings through art," she announced.

"Uh…I can get the canvases and paint for both of us," Blink offered, already standing up.

Spot shrugged, not really caring. "Whatever."

Blink soon came back with Spot's supplies.

"Alright, quiet down," the teacher commanded without any strictness in her voice. "This is going to be involving both mental sensitivity and interpretation…oh, and of course painting as well," she corrected.

Spot rolled his eyes. 'Mental sensitivity'? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"First you all will search deep inside yourselves and draw out the emotion you feel the most; what emotion seems to represent you. Focus on that emotion while you paint. Try and actually see it. Then paint what you see on your canvas. Now, this is a very revealing exercise so no looking over other people's shoulders at their work. What you paint has to be you. And, when we show everyone our finished paintings anyone being disrespectful will be sent out into the hall immediately," the teacher explained.

"Go on, begin," she encouraged when no one moved. And the room jumped into action while kids closed their eyes and thought of what to do.

Blink thought, not really having an easy time with it. He didn't really know which emotion he favored above all the others. It was definitely a happy feeling…but it couldn't really be called happy...happy was so clichéd…it was more that he just felt like laughing and having a good time. What emotion was that? And how was he supposed to paint his emotions if he didn't even know if they were actually official emotions or not.

Spot rolled his eyes again, not really enjoying this assignment. What emotion did he feel the most? Fuck if he knew, but this whole fucking day was starting to really piss him off.

And with that thought, he grabbed the red paint and dumped it all over his canvas. Then he claimed it done as a painting showing that he was pissed off. He grinned in triumph and settled in for a small nap before the rest of the idiots finished.

Blink thought until he just decided to draw a picture of Racetrack and Mush since they were the ones that usually brought him the feeling of needing to laugh and have fun.

Spot woke up due to someone poking him in the shoulder and immediately got annoyed. "What?" he snapped as he opened his eyes and glared at Blink.

"You're going to be next to show the class your painting," Blink explained quickly and quietly right before the teacher asked Spot to reveal and explain his painting.

Spot flipped his canvas towards the rest of the class with the help of his feet, not bothering to rise from his chair. "Pissed off," he announced before leaning back in his chair and waiting for whoever was next to go.

"Sean!" the teacher shouted excitedly. "That's exactly the type of thing I wanted to see. Abstract! Emotions are not material things or people. Those are just the things that bring them to the surface. Therefore, material things and people cannot describe them. Emotions are intangible, flowing, and Sean has showed precisely that in his painting," she gushed.

Spot smirked when most of the class turned to glare at him because they knew he had taken seconds to do the work and then had just slept. Spot loved the fact that people would get pissed over the teacher not gushing over them. Fortunately, that made all the attention and gushing worth it. He had always loved irony.

Spot walked out of his seventh period with his smirk still in place.

It slid off as soon as he saw that he had gym next.

He hated gym…absolutely detested it. He definitely wasn't bad at sports; it was just the whole idea of it. What the hell could gym teach him? Nothing. He might've felt differently if it taught something useful like self-defense or weapons training. That was considered exercise, right?

But then again it didn't really take away everything that was wrong with gym. The locker rooms stunk, the showers were always covered in mold, and it was an all-boys class. …At least, that's the way it had been for him at all his previous schools, and he didn't really have any reason to think differently about this school.

He walked into his class a bit late (apparently the school had found having three completely different and separate gyms necessary) and was a little disgusted at what it seemed like they were supposed to do today.

Football and baseball were one thing, but wrestling was just a whole other level of gay.

"You're the new kid right?" some kid asked before continuing even though Spot hadn't answered. "C'mon, let's see what you got."

"I don't wrestle," Spot answered calmly, walking away and sitting on the first step of the bleachers. It didn't look like the teacher was even here so he sure as hell wasn't going to put on one of those knee-length spandex suits everyone else was wearing and start rolling on the floor with another guy.

"What? Are you scared or something? Don't worry, I won't hurt you too bad," the kid ensured with a smug grin.

Spot just glared.

"C'mon boys, let's help him," the boy said as two other guys grabbed Spot by the arms.

Spot didn't fight back because quite truthfully the kid was annoying him and gym would be the perfect excuse as to why he got "accidentally" hurt.

"C'mon, ya girl, let's go," the boy demanded as Spot was pushed onto the mat and a circle was made around them, assuring neither boy could just run away.

Spot ducked and ran to the other side of the mat when the boy lunged at him as if he had wanted a hug. He'd never really bothered to learn the rules of wrestling though, so he didn't exactly know what he could or couldn't do.

Suddenly someone cuffed him on the head hard enough for him to stumble forward and see the room spinning. And it sure as shit wasn't the guy he was fighting because he had been on the other side of the mat the entire time. Well, fuck it then, he thought to himself as the kid easily knocked him to the floor and started punching. If they weren't going to follow the rules then he sure as hell wasn't going to.

Spot kicked out with a foot and managed to hit his opponent hard enough so that he stopped punching. With great speed he grabbed the guy's hand and twisted. Everyone looked terrified when they heard a loud pop.

"Fuck," the boy under Spot winced through his clenched teeth. "You fucking broke my arm you fucking-"

Spot let him go with a disgusted look on his face. "I just popped the joint a little out of place. Fuck, don't be such a pussy." One glare towards a group of people helping to create the circle made them quickly get out of his way and Spot calmly walked out the door and into the hall. Fuck gym in the ass…he didn't need it.

"Hey," Jack called out, racing to keep up with the new kid who had just kicked Masson's ass. "You know you should really think of joining up with the wrestling team. I mean, you were really good, and with a little training you could be kicking ass in a couple of weeks." It was rare that Jack gave people compliments and if he was being honest he couldn't wait to see the new kid's face when he realized that the Jack Kelly was actually complimenting him.

Spot turned around, his face expressionless. "I don't really do wrestling, but talk to me again if it ever develops into anything more than just foreplay before all the guys shower together." Without even waiting for a reply he turned around and walked off.

Jack stared after him for a few minutes before rolling his eyes and going back to the gym so he would get there before the coach showed up. Unfortunately as he lined up to get in a match the coach arranged he suddenly started to kind of see what the new kid was saying. He took off early with the excuse that he wasn't feeling well.

"Sean, right?" Dutchy asked as soon as he saw the new kid leaning up against his and his friend's wall smoking.

"And you're…what was it? …Duck or something," Spot answered back calmly has he blew smoke out of his mouth, hardly seeming upset that he couldn't remember the other boy's name.

"Dutchy," the boy corrected before changing the subject, "I didn't know you smoked." He took out his own cigarette as Itey and Skitts walked over with Bumlets trailing behind.

Spot just shrugged as he saw the other boys he had sat with at lunch coming towards the wall, all with cigarettes hanging out of their mouths.

"Sweet man, you really do belong with the druggies," Skittery laughed.

"Just don't, like, rat us out or anything," Itey warned.

Spot ignored him as he smoked his cigarette. Speed was around here somewhere, standing next to the back door (or so Slingshot had said), but he couldn't find him (not that he was really looking very hard).

"So what, do you take the bus home? We could give you a ride if you're close. Itey has a pretty rockin' car considering he blows all his money on drugs," Dutchy offered.

"Don't offer to give him a ride in my car, you asshole," Itey snapped, though really, he didn't care too much, he just didn't want Dutchy to feel like he had some say on it.

"I got a ride coming…or something," Spot muttered, quickly scanning the parking lot again. It was half empty at this point and he had been staring at it since eighth period.

"Well, we could give you a ride. If anything you can just hang out with us until you've got the whole ride thing set up…I mean, depending on how far away you live," Itey offered.

"What the hell man? How come you can do that and I can't?" Dutchy complained.

"'Cause it's not your fucking car, stupid," Bumlets answered for his friend.

"God, I was being nice," Dutchy said, rolling his eyes but letting it go for the most part.

Spot almost accepted their offer. He needed to get to Brooklyn as fast as possible and if Speed wasn't here it'd be quite difficult. He could just let them drop him off at the bridge, and then he could walk from there. Fortunately those plans were dashed.

"Boss," Speed greeted, coming up beside him and looking pleased.

"Where the fuck have you been?"

"Some…business came up…Slingshot can explain it better than I can," Speed answered, shrugging.

"Fine," Spot accepted, smashing his cigarette. "Come on, move your ass."

"Chauffeur," Spot answered with a shrug as he saw the four guys' confused expressions.

"Fuck me," Bumlets mumbled, "A fucking rich kid just joined the druggies."

"Maybe we can get more expensive drugs now," Dutchy suggested happily.

Skitts snorted, "Come on, Dutchy, we're small time. We couldn't handle the big drugs."

"And we're not going to try them either, because that's just stupid," Itey continued for his…boyfriend…friend…fuck buddy…whatever the hell Skitts was to him.