The Runaway (Spot Conlon x OC)

Chapter 20

Recap: Once we arrived, we all got in line to buy some papes. Once it was finally my turn, I slapped the money down and proudly asked, "150 papes, please!". Whoops, and hollers erupted from my friends. I've been progressively making a name for myself around here. Today, I will be one of the most effective and feared newsies

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Narrator POV
The sun began its descent downhill. The sky slowly transitioning from blue to orange. Kris began her walk home, content with today's work.

As she was smiling to herself, for she had just started 150 papes daily, her thoughts were interrupted by someone jumping on her back.

"Guess who?!"

"loooorddd, Spike if youse don't get off me back ise 'bout to sock you to tha otha side of tha road"

"wow shortcake, your accent switches real quick when youse angry"

Kris POV

I rolled my eyes as Spike trailed after me, chuckling. We both walked into the kitchen to find a note on the counter.

"Come to the diner! Wese out ta celebrate!"

Great. Now I have to be the sober friend AND the mom of the group. Spike quickly left to the diner, but I stayed behind to take a quick shower. After all, 150 papes a day is a lot of work.

I stepped out of the shower and dressed up in a black skirt and a red top. Nothing too fancy, but yet again, the boys don't even see me as a goil anymore.

I made my way to the diner. The music reverberating through the streets. As I stepped inside, my jaw dropped.

A bunch of wasted, singing teenage boys. I quickly facepalmed myself before walking into the middle of the room.

"Aye shortcake! Where youse been!"

"About time youse got here!"

"Come celebrate with us Lucky!"

For the next hour, I was replacing everyone's vodka with water and beer with ice tea. Now that everyone is either sober or blacked out, the real work was ahead.

I started loading my boys up. From the time I spent here, I've learned that the boys get wasted when they celebrate. So, I've decided to keep a little red wagon behind the diner.

After 2 or 3 rounds of trips loading and unloading my boys, I realized there were more than just Jersey boys knocked out. Usually, this wouldn't be a surprise. Most of the time, the boys would encourage and reel in girls or strangers to come party, but these boys weren't strangers.

They were Queens and Brooklyn boys. I guess I was too busy taking care of all the boys to even notice who I was taking care of. Now that I think of it, I'm almost positive that I tucked a Brooklynite into Spike's bunk.

Damn. It's going to be one hell of a night.