His Queen- Spot Conlon X OC

Chapter 4

I walked behind Jack and Davey, Boots on my tail as we crossed the Brooklyn Bridge. Spot and me had met once or twice before. The first time when I was ten, the second when I was twelve, now three years later, this is the third time. The occasions, I failed to remember. All I knew was that I had to have a lot of patience with him.

We walked across a pier and boys were jumping off it into the lake below us, swimming. They suddenly crowded all around us, looking pretty threatening. I was suddenly glad my fellas surrounded me.

"Stay behind me, Jo, ya hear?" Jack whispered.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Goin' somewhere, Kelly?" Someone asked. A guy stepped in front of us, but Jack just stepped around him and we followed.

"Well, if it ain't Jack be nimble, Jack be quick?" A voice came, strong in its accent. Spot.

We came to a place on the pier where a lot of crates were and Spot sat there on top of them. We came closer to where we'd be face to face with him. Spot had definitely changed. He had gotten taller, his voice was a lot deeper than it was beforehand, and his hair had gotten lighter. His piercing blue eyes didn't change, that was sure. I had rebuked myself for it in the past, but Spot wasn't a bad looking fella.

Definitely attractive, he was. No!

"So you moved up in the world, Spot," Jack said. "Got a riva' view and everythin'."

Here we go.

Spot came down from the platform he was standing on and spit-shook with Jack. He really had gotten taller. Well, considering I barely hit five-two.

"Hey, Boots. How's it rollin'?" Spot asked. Boots came forward giving him what I thought were marbles. I tried to move out from behind Jack, but every time I did, he somehow sensed me and moved with me. Dimwit. Why wouldn't he let me out?!

Spot accepted them from Boots, pulling out a slingshot. "So, Jackie boy, I've been hearin' things from little birds,"

"Yeah?" Jack said.

"Things from Harlem. Queens," He pulled the slingshot back and released it, shattering a bottle that still had some type of liquid in it. I guessed alcohol or root beer. The first I highly disapproved of. "All over. They're chirpin' in my ear. Jackie boy's newsies is playin' like they're goin' on strike,"

"We are," I spoke up. Jack was going to kill me. Everyone turned to me. "We's not playin'."

Spot looked confused for a second, then it was like a light went off. He stared at me for a good minute before saying anything. "Jo? Jackie boy's sista'?" He walked closer to me now that I had moved from behind Jack.

"In the flesh," I spit in my hand and put it out, smirking. He looked surprised but did the same.

"I barely recognized ya, beauty," He held my hand, bringing it to his lips while smirking.

I scoffed, snatching my hand away. "Same with you, Spot." He had never called me 'beauty' before. No one had. He better not again. I hoped I wasn't blushing.

Spot smirked once again. "Did you miss me?"

I rolled my eyes. "Why would I?"

I looked up at him and he looked down at me. "Listen to Jack and Davey, yeah?" I walked away from him, going to stand by Jack. My stomach felt like it was doing somersaults. Why I had no clue. Spot was still staring at me even though I was standing by Jack. Jack was gonna kill him.

"We are going on strike." Davey chimed in.

I was glad he did chime in. It diverted the attention away from me. Spot walked to David. "Oh yeah? Yeah?" he got right up in his face. "What is this, Jackie boy? Some kind of walkin' mouth?"

"Yeah, it's a mouth. But a mouth with a brain," Jack patted Davey on the shoulder. "And if you got half of one you'll listen to what he's gotta say."

"A'ight," he said. Spot sat on some crates that looked like they had been arranged to form a throne or somethin'.

He took the 'leader of Brooklyn' thing seriously.

"Well, we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So, we've been talking to other newsies all around." Davey said.

"Yeah. So they told me. But what did they tell you?" Spot asked.

"They're waiting to see what the Spot Conlon does. You're the key to... well... this whole thing. Spot Conlon is the most respected and famous newsie in all of New York. And everywhere else." he continued. "If Spot Conlon joins the strike, then they'll join. Then we'll be unstoppable. So you gotta join us beca- Well, you gotta."

We all stood quiet, waiting on his response. He started smiling the smallest bit, which I hoped was a good thing.

"Well, you're right, Jack," he stood up, taking his cane from where he had it hooked. "Brains." He pointed the cane at Davey.

"But I got brains, too. And more than just half of one." He walked toward me and tapped my chin with his cane. I turned my head. What was up with him?

"How do I know you punks won't run the first time some goon comes at ya with a club? How do I know ya got what it takes to win?" He slowly shook his cane at us all.

"Because I'm tellin' ya, Spot," Jack said.

Spot walked away. "That ain't good enough, Jackie boy. You gotta show me."

"Hasn't us comin' here shown you that? That we's serious?" I said, starting to become mad.

He turned back to us and came to me. He came so close that our noses could have touched if he would've taken two more steps. "I need more proof, beauty."

I backed away a little and shook my head. "Don't call me that again," I said. "And to really think we thought youse could help us." I scoffed.

I walked closer to Jack but his cane nearly prevented me. I whipped around, snatched it out of his hands and held it back.

He stepped back, hands in the air. He laughed. "Jackie boy, youse got one fierce sister. A'ight, I may think about it. May. Not any promises."

I smiled, smugly. "Yeah. Ya do that." I handed him his cane back and walked to Jack, Davey, and Boots. Davey looked at me, eyes wide. "Good to see ya again, Spot." I turned around.

"Ya too, Jo,"

"And that, fellas, is how that gets done," I said to them as we left. I looked back over my shoulder and I could've sworn he winked at me.