Brooklyn Baby | Spot Conlon ¹

Chp. 7: Sneaking Out

I tug on my cap, concealing my femininity with my hair tucked inside. I get stopped by Race.

"Where ya goin', Kensta?"

"Harlem,"

"Why is your hair all tucked unda' ya cap?" He asks suspiciously.

"Skid told me to, he got new guards,"

"Alright, I'll make sure to tell Jack if he asks,"

"Thank ya Racey," I fist-bump him before running out of the lodge. I ran behind streets and in alleyways until I saw the familiar dark roads, and the silhouette of the bridge.

It was only a two minute walk to the dock after the bridge. I walk over to the path, and find myself standing in front of the same goons from last time.

"Do we need to do this again?" I ask them, and they step aside with a huff. I smirk, and tip my cap. I walk down the long dock until I reach the end.

"Where ya hidin', Spot?"

He jumps down, and almost startles me. I take off my cap, and my hair falls onto my shoulders.

"I ain't objectin' or anything, but who's tellin ya to wear the cap like that?" He asks.

"Boots was tellin' me how sketchy this place is at night, and I just thought the people here wouldn't take me seriously as a girl, like your idiot of a goon the other time,"

"Wiz is always like that, but that don't make it okay. You's a lady, and you deserve respect," Spot says, sitting against a crate.

"Would neva' take you for a gentlemen, Spot,"

"Of course, 'cause I've been awful to ya," He says sarcastically. "When did I eva' treat ya with disrespect?"

"Do you need an example?" I say, walking over. I quickly snatch the cane from his holster, and he reaches for it. I pull it out of his grasp, and he glares at me.

"Why do you even carry this thing around? Where'd ya get it?" I say, poking him in the stomach with it. He closes a hand over it, pulling it away from me. I kept my grip on the cane, and so did he.

"I stole it," He said simply, not taking his eyes of mine as he tried to pull the cane out of my grip.

"You are a bad boy, Spot Conlon," I smirk. I let go of the cane, and he secures it back into its holster.

"Why'd you tell me to come here?" I continue, reaching over to snatch his slingshot. I dig into my pocket, and fish out a marble I had found earlier.

"Don't hurt ya-self, doll face," He taunts. I load the marble into the slingshot, and tug on it a couple times in his direction to warn him.

"I'll hit you with this," I say, focusing on a glass bottle. My guess was these boys drank quite often.

"Ya wouldn't shoot me," He says nonchalantly.

"You's right, I wouldn't," I say, pulling back the string, and closing one eye. "I'd hit ya with the slingshot." I release the marble, and it flies towards the bottle, and shatters it. I give it back to him, and he looks impressed.

"What, think you's the only one who can aim in New York?"

"You's full of surprises, doll-face," He says, putting the slingshot on the crate next to him. "I called you here, because I'm curious about ya relationship with Skiddy,"

"Jealous, are we?"

"Not in tha slightest," He scoffs. I roll my eyes. "I know his goil's brother, and he's tryin' ta make sure his sista don't get hurt."

"Me 'n Skid?" I laugh. "Not gonna happen. We're just good friends, he was there for me when certain people couldn't be, and that's that. I been to Harlem so many times I know that place inside and out, just like I know 'Hattan. This place, this is new."

"Ya like Brooklyn?"

"Yeah, it's nice."

"Ya like the people in Brooklyn?" He smirks.

"If you's referrin' ta ya-self, then can it. You ain't as bad as they made you out to be, Spot."

"What they make me out ta be?"

"I dunno, Jack just didn't want me comin' out here, 'cause your reputation. Ya make the newsies nervous, but ya don't scare me," I said. He got up and walked over so he was close to me. He glared into my eyes.

"How 'bout now?"

"You're trying ta be intimidatin', but it don't work on me. Don't take it personally, I don't scare easily,"

"Ya used ta be scared of tha dark,"

"Skid's a liar, don't ya listen to him." I say as he chuckles. "It ain't funny, we all got our fears."

"Not me," He leans back.

"You don't got any fears?" I ask. He shakes his head. "None?"

"Neither do you, I'm guessin', you obviously ain't afraid of tha dark anymore,"

"I guess not, we're bout fearless then."

"You ready for the rally tomorrow?" He asks.

"As ready as a newsie can be,"

I reach over and steal his cap of his head. He's got some major hat head, his hair partially greased back. The front locks of his hair fall out of place as soon as the hat leaves his head. He reaches for it, and I shove it back on his head.

"What do you think about bringin' dates to tha rally," I ask him.

"I don't care, really. If they want ta bring a date, let 'em bring a date. As long as they remember why we's really there,"

"You ain't bringin' one, I assume?"

"I don't talk to any goils besides ya," He says with a wink. "And like ya said, ya don't count."

I mentally slapped myself. When I said that, I didn't mean to mark myself out of bounds for Spot. That was just to tell the Manhattan newsies not to get any ideas. They already knew not to, Jack constantly remind them.

"That was just for tha 'Hattan newsies," I say.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, I mean, I heard the Queens leader is pretty out there," I say in a fake-dreamy voice. He chuckles, and I shake my head.

"Jack's against me datin', says I'm too young."

"How old are ya, and wouldja answer this time?"

"Fifteen." I say. I see him smirk. "You?"

"Sixteen,"

I scowled. He just chuckled.

"To be fai-ah, I turned sixteen in June."

"I'll catch up to ya in August," I say.

"Ya ain't that fah behind,"

"I just realized that I walked all the way over here for no reason," I say. "Ya got your answer about Skid,"

"Oh, come on, you enjoy me company,"

"You asked me to come here, don't get ahead of ya-self, Spot."

He pulls out his cane, and tilts up my chin. "See you at the rally, doll face."

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their banter is cute af