Breaking His Walls- [Spot Conlon love story]

Chapter 9- The Manhattan Girl

POV Spot

I slam da door to my room shut. I throw me cap on me bed and run me fingers through me hair. What da fuck was I doin? Invitin 'er to Brooklyn at midnight?  Better question, what da fuck was da girl doin ta me?

I neva even asked 'er what 'er name was! These past few days since I met 'er, I's just been referrin ta 'er as da goirl newsie. Or ta 'er face, Princess.

I am Spot Conlon. I don't have feelings. Actin Mushy towards a goirl is not and will neva be me thing. But there's somethin about 'er dat makes me feel some typa way. I can't put it into woirds.

She's a little spit fire grenade. And I's like dat da most about 'er. She doesn't take shit from no one. Not even me. Not ta mention, she is beautiful.

I sigh floppin onto me bed. Usually, if I were ta invite a goirl somewhere it would just be ta hookup. But I couldn't do dat ta 'er. I actually wanted ta.... get ta know 'er.

"'Ey Spot?" a voice calls outside me door.

I don't gotta open da door ta know who it is. It's me best friend, second in command, Flynn.

"Yeah yous can come in." I answer sittin up.

Flynn's a good guy. Sometimes he's a little too cheerful for me, but I can't stay mad at him for long. Flynn came ta Brooklyn a year or so I's got here and we's been best friends eva since.

"Listen, I's was just in Harlem with Checkers. Blair was askin for ya." Flynn reported groanin.

I grab a pillow off me bed, hit myself a few times in da head, and scream as loud as I could into it. Blair was me ex. But she's crazy! A lunatic even.

I only dated 'er in da foirst place ta align Brooklyn with Harlem. We was kinda inna war with Queen's and needed closer cities ta help us out. So, I resorted ta Harlem.

Harlem's leader is Flynn's old pal Checkers. Checkers's sister is Blair. See what I did?

And it worked. I started seein 'er and and a week or so later, I told Blair about da trouble we was havin.

Moral of da story, she threw 'erself at me feet (as expected) and told 'er brudda Harlem has to help out Brooklyn. And I quote "We just have to."

Da war blew over a few weeks later, and at dat point a bunch of da Brooklynites became pretty good friends with some of da Harlem punks.

There was no need ta continue ta pretend ta like Blair. If our boys was already friends and clearly allies we's could count on, I didn't need ta be with 'er anymore.

She was hot and all but she just got, how do I put it nicely? ANNOYING! PSYCHOTIC!

She wanted to know where I was 24/7- barely lettin me breathe. AND she complained. All. Da. Damn. Time. ABOUT EVERYTHIN.

Anyway, I told 'er I was dealin with some poisenal stuff and needed ta love myself again before I could love anotha person.

Sounds convincin right? I THOUGHT SO TOO.

She took it as me sayin I love you for da foirst time. I mean clearly dat was not what I was doin. I was tryin ta let 'er down easy.

Dis all happened four months ago, and she hasn't stopped botherin me newsies about me since. I told you she was crazy. At dat point wouldn't you take a hint?

"Oh God, what did she say dis time." I grumble.

"Oh, Flynn! Tell Spot I say hello. I hope he's doing ok. I miss and love him so much. I just know he feels the same way." Flynn mimicked in a high squaly voice.

We both shudder, both of us picturin 'er sayin dat.

"Dat's pathletic." Flynn teases.

"Yous tellin me. I's had ta put up with 'er for three months! Three months! Ya hear?" I laugh.

I mean I shoulda got a trophy or somethin. No one lasts dat long with Blair.

"Anyways, I gotta go check in with some of da spies who was in Queens taday. I's will let ya know if they tell me anythin important" he says turnin ta leave.

I nod and Flynn exits, shuttin me door behind him. I ain't told no one 'bout da Manhatten Princess yet.

I's kinda been tip toeing around da subject since we met and I felt somethin.

Because as far as everyone else is concered, Spot Conlon neva feels nothin.