A Drunken Mess: A Sprace Story.

Chapter 5- Thanks Spot

The next day Race awakens to the sound of Kloppmans' voice, he reluctantly gets out of bed and pulls his suspenders onto his shoulders and snatching his cigar out of his cup before Snipeshooter gets up and stuffing it into his mouth. He wanders over to the wash stations where he picks up a soap bar and washes his face, then reaching for the towel finding it in its usual place. Humming 'Carrying the banner' as he dries his face. He grabs his waistcoat off his bed throwing it neatly over his shoulders making sure his pocket watch was still in the pocket, no one could touch the last piece of his grandparents, the last piece of Italian ancestry he had. The last piece of his old life. He grabs his hat off of the corner of his bunk sliding it over his tidy slicked back hair. All the newsies exited the Lodge house greeting Kloppman in better manner than they did when he woke them. They arrived at the Circulation centre and paid for their papes, well, all except Race who still tried to gamble his way out of it.

"Game of cards" he suggests "I win, you pay for my papes, you win, and I'll pay double, eh?" The new 'Weasel' Mr Scurell shakes his head, Race is running out of time anyway if he wants to get to Brooklyn in time for the races so, he places a fifty-cent piece on the counter and grabs his papes. He hears Jack behind him "Hiya Squirrel."

"Somethings never change" Race mutters turning to mush, grinning, and shaking his head.

"You're happy this morning" Blink says joining Mush and slinging his arm around Mush's shoulders.

"What about it" Race replies

"No reason, just 'ent seen you this happy since number four won"

"Good times, Blink, Good times" Race says flicking his eyes up pretending to memorise the day number 4 won.

Race pulls out his pocket watch via the chain and looks at the time, best be on his way to Brooklyn. "Best be goin' boys" Race says, tapping Mush on the back.

Race is halfway over the Brooklyn Bridge when he spots a familiar figure dressed in a chequered shirt with the sleeves rolled up revealing his forearms and wearing blood red suspenders, it was Spot.

"Yo, Spot" Race calls, making the figure pivot whilst balancing papers on his shoulder.

A grin appears on Spots face realising it had been Racer who called him "Well, if it ain't Racetrack Higgins"

"Ya miss me Spot" Race jokes, smirking at the red tint that had appeared across Spots cheeks.

Spot chuckles "I'd be a liar if I said no, wouldn't I, and I ain't no liar" Now its Spots turn to smirk at Race, whose glowing cheeks matching the flustered expression on his face.

"Oh, I dunno 'bout that Spot, I remember a certain King of Brooklyn saying he wasn't going to join the strike"

"Yeh until you came and convinced me" Spot replies

"Then ya told Jack you joined 'cus we had proved ourselves worthy of Brooklyn's help"

"Wasn't a complete lie, a specific Manhattan who goes by the name Race proved himself worthy"

"Mhm, yeh I s'pose I can be very persuasive can't I" Race replied a smug grin growing on his face.

"Alright, don't compliment yourself too much Racer, and wipe that smug grin of ya face before I smack it off" Spot threatens, it was an empty threat, Race knew it was just an act for the public eye in case anyone spotted them.

"And he's back" Race said pretending to look at the time off his pocket watch "Only took a minute twenty"

"Yeh, yeh, whatever, ya going back to Manhattan tonight?" Spot asked.

"Duh can't let our guards down, someone might piece it together" Race answers his voice lowered to a whisper.

"I don't understand why you don't just tell them, they'd be perfectly fine with it, they're okay with Mush and Blink and let's face it ya gotta be blind to not notice Jack and Davey"

"I could ask you the same question Spot, why don't you tell your newsies"

Spot just looked at him and rolled his eyes, "Ain't you better be going, the races start soon"

"Yeh s'pose I should, but not without a kiss goodbye" He smirked, complacent with himself.

"Really Race?" Spot questioned before looking around and grabbing Races wrist hastily dragging him into a shady alleyway.

Fear spread across Races face before he realised what was happening, "Woah, okay I was just joking, but I mean if you're willing to do that, I'll take it!" Race said before kissing the blonde boy on the lips.

A sweet kiss, innocent really just a little bit more than a peck but not a proper passionate kiss.

Spot breaks the kiss turning on his heel before shouting "Have fun Racer!"

Race watches as Spots silhouette disappears out of sight, he couldn't believe Spot had actually done that, he leaned back against the damp cobble wall of the alley acknowledging their first kiss. Race snapped back into life when he heard a clock chime. The races, now Race had to run, no time to sell papes along the way, well, not if he wanted to get to the races on time. "Thanks Spot" he mutters under his breath, 'yeh, Thanks Spot.' He thinks.