Lady of the Bronx- Newsies

Chapter Eight

Pov:Spot

"You'se said that you'se had no family, Ricky! Why'se did ya lie ta me?!" Jack yells.

Ricky all but shrinks, "I'se-I'se don't know! My muddah died on the boat ride here, my other sistah got sent back to Italy, and I have no clue where ma father an brothers are!"

"Okay, okay. But you'se left ya sister, alone? That's low Ricky." Kid Blink chastised.

"I'se know, okay? I'se know! I'sa regretted that sense I left er!" He snaps.

We'se all silent for a whiles, a sudden quiet coldness taking over us all; still walkin' towards da Bronx Newsies base.

We'se lost Deer after she jumped building ta building- somethin' I'se only seen once before in me life.

"Are we'se gonna tell anyone about er? Ya know, that The Bronx has a goil in their mix?" Kid Blink asks.

"No." I state firmly. 

"I'se don't take orders from the likes of you'se, Spot Conlon." As soon as those words slip from Kid Blink- I turn around and punch him in the gut.

He crumples to the ground- I knocked the wind out of him.

"Hey! What's wrong with ya?" Jack tells me.

"You'se better teach ya boys respect, Kelly. It'sa hard enough for us ta sell papes- imagine being da only goil Newsies in New york? If er secret got out- she'd be broke and off to da orphanage. Betcha Ricky don't want that. And none of us wanna war with The Bronx and Queens; now do we?"

Jack tries ta rebuttal, "Well- I'se...You'se don't get ta tell my Newsies what to do, Conlon. Even if I'se agree with ya."

I shrug, "Fair enough, but ya Newsies don't get to disrespect me or Brooklyn at all, Kelly."

He just ignores me, an' helps Kid Blink up. They'se get behind a bit, so me an Ricky are walking toghera now.

"So, that was ya sister?" I'se ask.

"Twin, actually." He snaps.

"You'se ain't helpin ya case on how I'se feel about you'se leavin her, Ricky."

"I'se dont care about how you'se feelings, Conlon. You'se don't know me, or mah sista."

I'se feel anger surge in me, who is he? Bein' so disrespectful. 

"She talked ta me more than to you'se at this point. You'se aint know who she is now, it'sa been what? Five years? You'se changed a bunch, I bet, and so has she."

He'sa silent for a while before asking. "What did she tell you? How is she?"

"She got stabbed."

"No shit sherlock.

"She'sa still fluent in italian, right?" Ricky says.

"Yeah, she'se is. But I ain't tellin ya anything more. Ya sistah told me a bit more about everythin', but I'se swore on Brooklyn I'se keep my mouth shut."

"So do ya know her name? Her nickname or street name or whatever-"

"Yes. I do." I cut him off.

"What is it?" He asks.

"What part of I'se swore on Brooklyn do ya not get, boy?" I snap.

But Ricky snaps back too, "She'se my sista, Spot! You'se better tell me!"

"Ya sister is her own person, Ricky! You'se left her. I'se ain't own ya any information at all 'bout her. She ain't own ya anything. And by the looks of it, she ain't wanna talk to you'se."