His Challenger (ON HOLD)

Spot Conlon

Your POV
Before I could even stop myself "Jack did not jump over a candle stick." When I realized I said it out loud, my eyes widened and I slapped my hands over my mouth. Oh no... I could feel Jack glaring at me. I averted my gaze to the ground. "What did I says about talking Jaguar?" I stay staring at the ground as I lower my hands from my face.

"Lighten up Jacky, why you so hard on him?" Against my better judgement I slowly looked up, Spot was smirking at me. Female hormones don't you dare. You're guy right now, remember? I looked down again. Jack had a fake smile on his face as Spot started to come down from his 'throne' so to speak.

"I see you moved up in the world, Spot. Got a river view and everything." Spot was now down to our level, and he spit shook with Jack. Soon I saw two unfamiliar feet in front of me. Please tell me he—
"Is dah ground pretty or somethin'? Look at me." Slowly I looked up. Hormones. No. I watched him spit in his hand, and stick it out to me.

I have to, I have to. I raise my hand to my face, and spit into my hand, and it soon meets his own hand. He sends another smirk towards me. He turns to Boots next. I let out a silent sigh of relief, in the corner of my eye I see Jack glaring at me again.

"Heya Boots. How's it rollin'?" "I got a couple of real good shooters." I slowly look up to see Spot take a couple of marbles from Boots, and he pulls out a slingshot. "Yeah. So, Jacky-boy. I've been hearing things from little birds. Things from Harlem, Queens," Spot shoots a marble and it breaks a bottle. "all over. They been chirpin' in my ear.  Jacky-boy's newsies is playing like they're going on strike."

My brows furrowed. Huh... Jack goes to speak, but once again the words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Could I try that?" They stop and look at me. My eyes widen. Ise did it again. Jack is gonna kill me. Jack glared harder, Boots and Davey just looked shocked. Spot, looked me up and down.

"Sure, here catch." Spot then tossed the slingshot, I caught it, but barley. He nods in approval. He tosses the marble and I catch that too. He smirks at me. I walk over next to him, I look up at the bottles. I shakily put the marble in the sling, very very aware that all eyes, and I mean all eyes were on me.

This made me shakier. I take a deep breath, and pull back the part that shoots, I close my bad eye, and aim. Everything seemed in slow motion as I released the marble, and it goes flying at the bottle. After what felt like an eternity, I hear the bottle shatter. I blink.

Wait... "Nice shot." I turn my head, Spot seems to be nodding his head in approval again, a long with his Brooklyn Newsies. "Wait.. did I actually make the shot?" I asked quietly. Spot smirked again. "You did. What youse neva shot one of dem before?" I shake my head no. He smirks more. "A natural then." Jack shakes his head and they return to talking about the strike.

Spot starts saying the 'Hatten Newsies would Tun if a bull came to break it up, and once again, I can't stop myself from talking. "I'll soak any bull that tries tah stop us. It ain't fair. Theyse look down on us like wese notin. And I'm sick and tired of dat. If the rest of the 'Hatten Newsies ah too wimpy tah fight the bulls. Then I'll do it meself." Jack glares at me again, and finally says something.

"What did I tell youse abou talkin' Jags? I said not to, and there's you ago again for dah third time, talkin'." I look down. "So-Sorry...." I say quietly. "Why you so tough on him Jacky? He's just a kid like dah rest of us." Jack laughed bitterly. "Like dah rest of us you say? Well, how about now?" My eyes widen. "Jacky!" Jack then rips the hat from my head. My (Hl), (Hc) hair then falls from under my hat. I turned and saw Boot's shocked face. Davey's shocked face, and Spot's.... had no expression what so ever.

I. Was. Terrified.

Jack continued angrily. "What about now Spot? Is SHE still like the rest of us?" He emphasized the she, and I flinched. Which did not go unnoticed. Spot stands from where he was sitting/leaning, and he walks over to me. I stare at the ground, trying to hold back my tears. I couldn't look weaker than I already am now. He bends down. "Look at me."

I stay staring at the ground. I heard a sigh. I could hear Davey and Jack arguing, they were trying to whisper, but they were failing miserably.

"I told you we shouldn't have brought her." "Why would you do that to her? What has she ever done to you?" "She can't do anything right, and she goes and does stupid things and then I or someone has to get her out of trouble. "Gee, I wonder where she gets it. She does all of that to get your attention. You've talked down to her for years so now—" I blocked out their voices.

Don't cry don't cry. "Hey, when I says look at me, Ise expect you to listen." Sounds familiar. I would have listened, but I didn't want him to see me cry. Another sigh. "Dat was a little harsh. Sorry. Listen, does he bother you?" I slowly look up at him the tears at the very edge of falling. I'm about to respond, when I hear a groan. "Great, she's crying. Great reputation for our Newsies. Great goin' Jaguar." I look down again. I blink, and the tears fall.

I press my lips into a thin line. "Hey. Look at me." Spot said gently. I slowly do, not caring any more as the tears streamed down my face. No wonder Jack hates me... I can't do anything right. "Youse got guts. I'll give youse dat. Does Jacky bother you?" I nod a little. He stands straight. "Yes." Spot says suddenly. It goes quiet. "Yes what?" Jack asked. "You asked if she was still like dah rest of us. I'm giving' youse my answer. Yes. She is."

Jack was not expecting the response, and neither was I. My jaw dropped. "She's lost, she's alone, and she's a kid. A kid who wants to fight for a better life." He turns and looks me up and down, then turns back forward. "And from the looks of it, youse ain't givin' it to her." Jack stepped forward and got into Spot's face. "What youse tryin' to say Conlon?"

Spot didn't back down, not even a little intimidated. "Ise ain't tryin' to say anythin'. What I am sayin' is she ain't happy wit you, so she's not your Newsies anymore." Jack backed up a little glaring at Spot. "What did youse say?" "You heard what I said. She's a Brooklyn Newsie. Youse better prove yourself Jacky. Cause until then," Spot dropped his volume, I could barley hear.

"She's mine."