them brooklyn boys⚡️sprace

Whoa

Race was a little flustered the rest of the day, no doubt because of the interaction with Spot. Every couple hours Jack would question him but he'd answer simply with an "I don't know".
'Heterosexuality. Ha! imagine that.' Race thought to himself multiple times during the day. He decided he'd talk to Jack after he was done selling his papes, to get his mind off of Spot.
"I think wese should tell 'em tonight."
Race said to Jack on their way back to the Lodging House.
"Keeping it a secret ain't  gon' help nothin'."
Jack nodded in agreement. His palms got sweaty as soon as they entered the room.
"How was Brooklyn?"
Albert asked as Race went to untie his shoes.
"Normal."
"Elaborate?"
"Spot was normal. The Brooklyn newsies were no-"
Race was interrupted by the loud voice of Jack Kelly.
"Newsies! I've got some...information."
Everyone in the room huddled around and silenced themselves.
"So."
Jack looked nervous. Something very rare. He looked down at Race, who nodded. He then continued.
"Recently, the burrows have been..paying each other to sell on the others turf. Brooklyn, Queens, The Bronx, and...even us."
Gasps and murmurs echoed around the room.
"We didn't gose to Brooklyn todays  to work out gambling arrangements. We wents to talk about this."
The gasps faltered until it was silent.
"Yah! And how come Race knew befo' the rest of us?!"
Romeo yelled.
"Spot told him."
"Spot? Told Race?"
Albert laughed.
"Jesus someone has a soft spot for Higgins."
"Shut up! He was just tryna convince me to pay him two dimes fo' a month of selling of  theres. 'Stead a gambling."
Race mumbled.
"Guess he's intimidated by ya too!"
Boots said. The room erupted in laughter. Race didn't get it. It wasn't that weird Spot had let him in on a secret was it?
Katherine walked in, arms crossed.
"What's so funny?"
"Spot Conlon has a soft spot for Race!"
Mush said though wheezes. Everyone was laughing except for Katherine, Jack, Davey, and Race himself. Les was sleeping.
"Okay! Everyone! Listen up!"
Jack yelled. The room quieted down again.
"Ise gonna try an' gets us out of if dis befo' it turns into something that we're not gonna wanna be involved in"
-
Race, who was seriously doubting the possibility of sleep that night, was once again shaken by Les. Who then brought him to the window. The same two men as the night before.
"Tell me this isn't weird!"
"Ise not saying it ain't. Ise sayin' we don't wants to gets wrapped up in this too. Tomorrow morning."
Race whispered, sending Les off to bed. They had spit shaken the night before, so he felt kinda bad that they never went out to look for evidence. But he walked out of that building the morning before and there was nothing. He saw nothing with his own two eyes.
-
Spot Conlon was giddy to say the least. Nobody questioned it because he hadn't yelled or threatened to soak someone since about 10:30 that morning. The next day he realized that the newsies realized something was up.
"You meet a girl Conlon?"
Asked Ace, pulling his socks up.
"Somethin' like that"
Spot said, more focused on blowing out the candles.
"Ohhh! Pretty Goil?"
Spot thought back to how Races smile lit up the entire Brooklyn bridge, for him at least.
"Yah."
"Name?"
"Didn't get it. Just saw her on the streets."
Spot said, looking at the ground.
"How about-"
Spot interrupted before they got any further.
"Since when are all of ya so personal?"
Spot said, waving them off. He slowly put on his suspenders, then threw on the old cap he'd had since he was little. Spot reached his arm under his pillow till he had ahold of a necklace. He wore it everyday. It was simple, a key hung from it. Nobody knew what the key opened, nor did they question it.
Well, Jack did once, even after Race told him specifically not to. He ended up in the freezing water of November.
"Ise goin ta Manhattan today."
Spot said, slapping a few coins in the table.
"Ace. Wese almost outta bread. Mr.MacDonald ovah dere is too old to do anything."
Race pointed at the man dead asleep in the corner, who was supposed to be in charge of them.
"Well then maybe we should ask for someone new to run this lodging house..?"
"Nah. Just go buy some bread."
Spot slid the coins across to Ace, then got up and adjusted his cap, swinging his leg over the bench.
"Remember what I said about making sure it ain't moldy."
He yelled, exiting the house.
_
There were vast looks of suspicion from Manhattan newsies as Spot peered through the windows of the Lodging Home. Nobody was at the house, so the next thing that came to mind was to go find Race. So he did. Spot turned a couple street corners and went in and out a few alleys before he found Race standing out front of Jacobi's Deli.
"Conlon? Whadda ya doin' heres?"
Race asked after he finished handing a newspaper to a woman. She gave him a quarter and a sympathetic smile.
"Did you tell em? 'Bout da whole thing?"
Race hesitated.
"Not me. Jack. Howd ya know?"
"Just a feelin'."
"Well did ya walk 3 houahs ovah 'ere just to ask that?"
"Yah."
"Really?"
Spot held up his hands.
"Honest."
The boys stood outside the deli for a few minutes, Race sold his last to papers to a business man and a little boy.
"Youse good with the littles."
"Howdda ya know?"
"By the way you was just talkin' to that kid."
Race nodded. It dawned on him that, yes, he was good with younger newsies.
"Hey Spot?"
He mumbled, sitting down on the bench."
"Mhm?"
Race stammered for a moment. His mouth went dry, he wasn't one to get nervous. Especially with the nerve he had when it came to smart talking people.
"Do ya think there's gonna be another turf war?"
Spot looked around for a second before sitting down on the bench next to him.
"Why would youse think that?"
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Uh oh 1005 words. I said they would be around 800 lol. Anyway follow my Tumblr. It's @/yafancyclamwiththepoilinside :)