King of New York

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I went to see Spot after the Blink fiasco. I knocked on his door in the Lodging House. When he didn't answer, I slightly pushed open the door and saw him with another girl. I felt tears form in my eyes and slip down my face. I couldn't hold in the sob that formed in my throat. Spot and the girl froze, and slowly turned to the door, but I had slipped away from the door and out of the Brooklyn Lodging House, running back to Manhattan. I had an inkling that he knew the mysterious figure was me.

Quicksilver greeted me at the foot of the fire escape stairs, but I only ignored her and ran up the stairs to the balcony we always slept on. She yipped confusedly and followed me up. 

I sat on fire escape, my eyes staring, but seeing nothing. Quicksilver came over and placed her head on my leg. I held her tightly, wondering what happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys were chatting and eating in Tibby's the next day. I had gone out earlier and hacked off long tree branches for my arrows, since I had steadily run low on my arrow supply. I also hacked off pieces of bark from the trees for the fletching on the end of the arrow's shaft, and found some small enough stones for my arrowheads. In Tibby's, I sat by myself, apart from the others, sharpening and polishing my arrows. I tuned out what the boys were saying.

Spot was staring intently at me, but I pretended to not notice, pretending to be absorbed in my arrow-care. If someone didn't want me in their life, then I wouldn't want them in mine either. 

Finally, when I finished polishing and sharpening, I took out my dagger and picked up a branch from the ground, whittling out the arrow's shaft. I cut three slits on one end, the end where the fletching would be. I flipped it to the other end, where I cut a deep slit down the diameter of the shaft. I made the slit deeper towards the middle, where the arrowhead would be lodged deeply in it. That way, I wouldn't have to secure it using string or something. Blowing off the dust, I placed it on the table and repeated the process with my other branches I had cut.

Just as I had finished my arrow shafts and was about to start on my arrowheads, Denton walked in.

"Hey, fellas." he greeted to the workers. Then he turned to the newsies and called out, "Hey, hey. Big time."

He placed the paper on the table Jack sat at and stepped back so that the newsies could examine the paper he had made. They-except for me-crowded around the table, pushing and shoving each other for a spot to see the newspaper. I held back, carefully whittling my stones into arrowheads as I watched what they did.

"Where's me picture? Where's me picture?" Spot grumbled, looking for his picture. I chuckled as Jack just brushed him away as if he were nothing more than an annoying fly. It reminded me of a post I saw.

"What're dem woids dere?" Boots wondered

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"What're dem woids dere?" Boots wondered. "Dat all about us?"

"Look at that Jack, ya look like a gentleman!" Mush remarked, pointing at Jack in the newspaper.

"Would ya get ya fingers off me face?" Jack replied irritably, pushing Mush's finger off of his picture.

"Where does it say me name?" Spot tried again. "Where's me name?"

"Would ya quit thinkin' 'bout yaself?" Jack shot back.

"So what? Ya get ya picture in da papes, so what's dat get ya, huh?" Skittery said. I sighed, a small smile on my face. Skittery, always the pessimist. The boys all grumbled at his comment. 

"What're ya talkin' about?" Mush said disbelievingly at him.

"Shut up, boy. Ya been in a bad mood all day!" Jack yelled at him.

"I'm not in a bad mood." Skittery snapped back.

Race smacked his face. "Glum and dumb. What'sa matta wit ya? Ya get ya picture in da papes, ya famous. Ya famous, ya get anythin' ya want." he said. "Dat's what's so great about New Yawk." he finished, slamming his hand on the table. The boys muttered in agreement. 

I just finished my first arrowhead (they take a long time to make), sticking it inside one of my arrow shafts and went back to work on my next arrowhead. Mush started the song. I smiled as I worked on my arrows and sang along.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the end of the song, I stepped outside with my newly made arrows and bow. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Spot excuse himself and slip out a few minutes later. Grumbling, I ran through the streets and to the place where the Blink incident happened. I rummaged through some dumps and found discarded beer bottles, setting them on various places. 

I took out one of my new arrows and notched it, then let it fly through the air. It hit the beer bottle and shattered it, the pieces flying in all directions. Smiling happily, I quickly notched arrow after arrow, and hit beer bottle after beer bottle. Satisfied with my workmanship (I had only made arrows once or twice since I didn't have to use my arrows on much back at home), I went over to where my arrows were lodged and yanked them out of their places, putting them back into my quiver as I did so. 

Behind me, I heard a small chuckle. "Dose are pretty good arrows ya made." 

I turned and saw Spot leaning on some crates casually, wearing his usual smirk, and my happy smile instantly transformed into a scowl.

"Whaddya want, Spot?" I said emotionlessly. "Ya couldn't stay away from me?" 

He sauntered over to me, his smirk never leaving his features. "What do I's want? What do I's want?" he repeated, backing me up against a wall. I swallowed hard. "I's want answers." His smirk left his face and turned into a sad smile. 

"Save ya breath fo' ya goil." I sneered.

"I's wanna know why ya left me fo' Blink. I's wanna know why ya played wit me." he continued sadly. With each passing statement, his sad smile grew into more and more of a scowl filled with resentment. "I's wanna-"

I shut him up by leaning forward and pressing my lips to his. I dropped my bow and quiver and wrapped my arms around his neck. He responded by wrapping one arm around my waist and the other cradled my head.

Reluctantly, we pulled away, both red-faced and out of breath. Spot had his usual smirk on his face again, and I only smiled.

"Was dat a good enough answer fo' ya?" I teased.

"I don't think so." he whispered in my ear, his breath tickling my ear and neck. 

I playfully shoved him away, and picked up my bow and quiver. "Come on, lova boy. Dey say anythin' interesting befo' ya left?"

Spot nodded. "Dey're gonna have a rally. At Medda's."

"Really? When?"

"Tonight."

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