Straying - S.C

Part 4- Convincing

SHIFTY'S POV

The pitch blackness of the night hung low, making out the boy's face in front of me would be nearly impossible. He hadn't spoken a word as for my tolerance of this all, I was just about to walk away without another sound. The moonlight didn't help much but a sliver admitted onto the side of his face showing the smug smirk he always wore.

It had pissed me off when he smirked around me before and it still does. I knew Spot from a run-in, in Brooklyn. It was short and awhile ago but he never seemed to be without that signature look. I was caught up in selling papes and hadn't realized that I had made into Brooklyn rather farther than I thought. It had always been the best selling further past Bronx.

So when an unfamiliar newsie winds up on a Brooklyn territory corner they don't take it kindly. Never did it occur to me then that Spot was such a dog name.

A bling at his side caught my attention, a 'pimp' sick hung loosely from a loop in his pants. My eyes wandered back up to catching faded red suspenders that looked almost pink, they went over his shoulders. His shirt had its cuffs rolled up and the top was mostly unbuttoned revealing top part of his chest. A silver strand ran down his neck and disappeared under the cloth hiding whatever remained on the bottom of it.

I had heard rumors that he wore a key that was supposedly 'the key to Brooklyn,' but some even said that it was the key to the strike. Neither of which sounded reasonable.

I tried staring him in the eye but couldn't stand being shorter than the boy in front of me. Already knowing that he was pretty short. Looking down I shook my head while letting out a huff.

"Whose are you'se?" A thick Brooklyn accent laced his voice as he spoke.

I laughed in his face while he still stood in front of me, as far as I know I'm the only girl newsie and everyone knows that. So far hes not fitting the 'King of Brooklyn' definition very well.

"You'se a goil," He placed his 'pimp' stick under my chin raising it up.

Swatting it away out of annoyance, "No I'm one of your little bodyguards at the dock."

He kept silent and walked painfully slowly around me to a pile of crates. The silence hung like thick fog in the early morning streets after heavy rain. Spot's eyes trailed over me with the little light that was provided above. His smirk came back just as quickly as it had gone away.

"Thought you'se were a boy but when I'se noticed you'se hair I'se knew it wasn't," he paused while sitting down, "you'se Shifty."

"The one and only," I nodded as he finally caught on.

Standing back up from the crates he took a step then spit in his hand offering it to me, I repeated his actions and shook his hand. I never was very fond of spit shaking but it seemed as if every newsie did it now so coping with it was my best option. Catch would always tease me about how when I first spit shook and my face would show a disgusted expression even though I repeated it back to the other newsie.

I never heard the end of it as it was only one of the few things he could tease me about. Still he brought it up every once in a while knowing it would piss me off.

"Why'se you'se here?"

"I'se here bout da Strike."

"Did Jackie boy send ya? I'se already told hims I'se not joining it, hes gotta prove emself," Spot snapped and began to seem irritated.

I rolled my eyes, two very easily ticked off newsies sharing the same area wasn't a good combination.

"Jack didn't send me'se, what makes he did," I questioned while crossing my arms.