A lone newsie

Going home

KThat night..
___
"Les, come on. The sun is setting, and Davey will kill me if i'm late to drop you off." (Y/N) chided, pulling Les along. The small boy was eating his vanilla ice cream, savoring each lick as the two crossed the Brooklyn bridge.
"Im eatin, im eatin!" Les replied, speeding up his pace. (Y/N) continued at her speed for another ten minutes until they were around halfway across the bridge.
"Well hello there." A male voice suddenly appeared, making (Y/N) and Les flinch alike. She pulled Les closer, and he hugged her legs anxiously.
"Who's there?" (Y/N) scowled, whipping her head around frantically to spot the source of the voice. Les did the same, except he kept his head pressed against (Y/N)'s thigh.
"Why, only da' king of Brooklyn!" The voice said, stepping into the light. "Spot Conlon, pleasure ta' meetcha." He greeted, sticking out his hand to shake. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, but relaxed visiby.
(Y/N) could only describe him as.. Short. Yes, he was very, very short.
"I have a feeling that's a self proclaimed title there, bud.." (Y/N) muttered, not shaking his hand or even stepping towards him.
"What do you want?" She grimaced, letting the light shine somewhat on her face. Spot just smirked, putting her off.
"Only you, sweetheart." He flirted, making (Y/N) gag. Les stuck his tongue out at him, but he didn't seem to notice. At least, he hasn't said anything about it if he had noticed.
"As if!" (Y/N) retorted, squaring her shoulders as to appear bigger. Les clung to her pants tighter, and Spot frowned slightly.
"Aw, come on, jus' a joke!" He explained as (Y/N) started to continue across the bridge with Les. "Dont take it too personally!" (Y/N) laughed dryly.
"I'm not taking it personally at all. I'm just choosing not to respond to you." She retorted, continuing her walk. Spot went quiet for a moment as (Y/N) continued his walk, him tailing behind Les ever so slightly.
"Why are you following me?" She glowered, stopping completely. "Do you want something?" She finished, turning to face him.
"I'es jus' tryin' ta' hep - it ain't safe fo' a goil to walk home alone at night." He Explained, putting his hands in his pockets.
"(Y/N) isn't alone!" Les suddenly piped up, shocking Spot and (Y/N) alike.
"(Y/N)? Is that ya' name?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. (Y/N) mentally kicked herself, but nodded.
"Yes, im (Y/N) (L/N). 'Pleasure' to meet you." She said sarcastically.
"Youse the goil that Jack needed help gettin' outta' da Refuge.." He deducted, recognizing her. She nodded with a sigh, squeezing Les's hand.
"Thats me.."
"Well, it was definitely worth it - youse pretty." He smirked, walking towards her.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes.
God, Spot Conlon was such a stud.
Suddenly, almost out of nowhere, someone yelled something out. Everyone turned their faces to the sound, seeing it to be Race.
"Race? What the hell are you doing here?!" (Y/N) shrieked, wondering if he had been following them the whole time.
"No time ta' explain, this guy givin' youse a hassle?" He growled, cracking his knuckles at Spot.
"The hell does it look like?" Les exclaimed, making (Y/N) gasp - he had actually just cursed! Davey would kill him if he found out.
Race approached the short boy, who was, for some reason, even shorter than Race himself - that was new.
"I'm gonna have sexual thoughts about this later." Spot blurted out, then dashed off. (Y/N) sighed, Race turned red, and Les giggled.
God, could this night get any weirder?
___
"(Y/N).. (Y/N).. (Y/N)!" A voice shouted, jolting her awake.
"Huh!?" She shot up, bedhead and all. She was only in her pajamas - a scraggly white tank top with her sleeping pants on. She turned her face to see Crutchie.
"Gah! Crutchie, get out! I'm not dressed!" She shrieked, pulling up the blanket to hide her pajamas. After all, it wasn't exactly adequate to show a boy your pajamas. Then he may start.. Thinking about ... things.
"D'oh, come on. It's not like its gonna burn my eyes out or anythin'." He talked back, (Y/N) dropping the blanket and huffing in defeat.
"Anyways, I'es wouldn't wake ya up before da' circulation bell fo' no reason," He began explaining, sitting himself down at the foot of her cot. "But I'es got real good news!"  He giggled like a giddy child.
"Well, spit it out then if it's so urgent you need to wake me up before the crack of dawn!" (Y/N) playfully countered.
"Well, youse see, I was talkin' ta' Jack and-"
"Crutchie, just get to the point." She muttered, sitting up from her laying position and scooting next to him.
"Aight, aight - long story short, Miss Medda is havin' a party tomorra' night for all da' newsies, and I'es was thinkin' we could go togatha'!" He yawped, (Y/N) chuckling lightly.
She noticed his look of confusion and dismay as she laughed, and soothed him by pecking his cheek gently.
"Of course i'll go with you, if that's what you're asking." She reciprocated, taking his hand in hers gently. Crutchie, still not used to her giving him attention like this, blushed.
(Y/N) then smiled, and stood to stretch.
"Well, as long as im up, might as well get a head start on the day, eh?" She told him as the stretched her arms over his back. Crutchie nodded innocently and stood himself.
"I'es gonna' go down, maybe I'll shave or somethin.." He muttered to her. (Y/N) laughed, throwing him off.
"What's so funny?"
"The fact that you have nothing to shave in the first place." (Y/N) joked, making her bed. Crutchie jokingly slapped her shoulder, then pulled her into a hug. Once they split apart, he turned to go and get ready himself.
"See you later, one leg."
Crutchie laughed to himself at this.
"As to you, two legs."
With that, he left the room to go get ready for a day of selling.