folklore

- 16 -

The sun had just gone down and Lilly came back to the Brooklyn Lodge after a, strongly suggested, walk. As soon as Lilly entered the bunk room, Hot Shot put an arm out in an attempt to stop her from going any further in. She furrowed her eyebrows and gave his shoulder a punch. "what?" She whined, her voice cracking. "I came back befoah curfew. And you was tha one who told me ta go fah a walk!"

Without a word, her best friend subtly pointed at Spot, who stuck his head out the window, his elbows resting on the sill. Upon seeing him, Lilly's heart immediately began to ache for him.

Word had gone out that the new Manhattan leader Racetrack Higgins started dating a girlsie who many newsies described as a 'redheaded cutie.' Although this would be how Lilly would describe her boyfriend, even though they weren't on speaking terms at the moment, she didn't need to be the smartest person in the world to know who they've been talking about.

The two exchanged looks before approaching their best friend.

"ya ain't said a word all day." Lilly remarked, speaking softly.

"wasn't in tha mood fah talkin'." He replied in a monotoned voice.

Hot Shot snorted. "that's a foist." Lilly shot him a glare and hit his shoulder with her backhand.

"be nice." She hissed.

Hot Shot placed a hand on Spot's shoulder in a comforting manner. "goils suck." He simply spoke, in which Lilly rolled her eyes in response.

"then why did I get a column on tha New York Sun foah my speech 'bout girls?" She quipped and pointed to her bunk, where she had a cutout of the column nailed to it.

"say what ya want 'bout it," Spot started, speaking quietly. "but I really liked 'er. I was serious 'bout 'er."

"Spotty, theah's gon' be lots'a othah girls that you's gonna meet an' one day, you's gon' meet anothah one ta be serious 'bout." Lilly consoled softly as she wrapped her arms around her best friend from behind, resting her chin on the top of his head.

"they ain't goin'a be Harley." He scoffed.

"theah's thousands of pretty girls jus' in New York alone!" Hot Shot encouraged.

"I thought I had 'er- that she was mine, I thought that she was the one fah me so- so I actually tried." He placed his hands on Lilly's and squeezed them tightly. "but she was nevah mine... she was only mine ta lose." The three remained quiet after that, staring out the window as tree branches danced as the wind blew. Lilly kept a tight grip on Spot's hands, staring at the beaming moon and the stars that twinkled around it.

On August of 1899, Spot Conlon had developed hope for the first time in years. He lived for the hope of it all; for love, acceptance, recognition. He found all of that in Harley Vaughan, a mystery that he wished that he had never even been determined to solve in the first place. Now that he has, all he could do was remember how he thought that he had her. August had slipped away and so did she, keeping him lost in the memory of when she was his.

Taking Lilly and Hot Shot by surprise, he stood up and climbed out of the window, mumbling "that's the last time I take a girl seriously," before climbing up onto the rooftop.

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧

Harley, Elmer and Finch ran down the street to the distribution centre with their arms linked together, laughing loudly. Behind them, boys poked on Race's back, teasing him about his new girl. Albert and Jojo had on smiles of satisfaction as they watched their best friend, who was red from fluster.