- Chapter 32 - Walking Mouth -
Warning: Bad flirting
Canon Era
Third Person POV

Davey felt really nervous when heading to Brooklyn.

Who is this Spot Conlon?

Why do the boys fear him so much?

The boys had told Davey a little bit about Spot Conlon, the King of Brooklyn, but not a lot.

Davey figured that it was all they knew about him, other than Race.

Race had said that Spot was his best friend, and Davey didn't doubt that, but why couldn't Race have helped calm Davey's nerves instead of filling them.

Davey looks over at Jack and Boots.

There wasn't much conversation going on at the moment.

Should I ask them about Spot?

"So, is this Spot Conlon really dangerous?" Davey asks, trying to act causal by sticking his hands in his pockets.

Jack and Boots just looked at each other, and started laughing.

Geez, make me even more nervous would ya? Davey stares at them.

"Don't worry Dave, you'll be okay. I'll stop him if he tries something." Jack assures Davey, putting his hand on his shoulder.

Davey nods as a 'thank you'.

The trip continued with Jack and Boots yelling over the side of the Bridge, and inviting Davey to do the same, but Davey politely declined.

When they finally got to Brooklyn, there were a lot of boys, shirtless, swimming in the water, and chilling together.

They scared Davey a bit.

He had never been one to interact with people much, and he was in the most feared borough in New York.

What happened to just being the shy kid in school?

A Brooklyn Newsie climbs in front of the three boys, stopping them. Going somewhere, Kelly?" He snarls.

That made Davey feel even more uncomfortable.

Jack pushes past him, motioning for Davey and Boots to follow him.

Davey looks to Boots for reassurance.

Boots just shrugs.

Davey sighs silently, following Jack further down the dock.

If I run right now, I could get out and wouldn't have to come back.

I should've never agreed to this.

I knew it would've meant interacting with scary humans, or- scarier humans than normal humans.

All humans are scary.

A voice snaps Davey out of his thoughts. "Well, if it ain't Jack be nimble, Jack be quick." They were above Davey, Jack, and Boots.

What an accent. Was the first thing Davey's mind jumped to about the person.

He looks up, finding a boy wearing all red.

He looked to be shorter than Davey would've thought, but they were about the same height as him. (A/N, we're talking 1992)

"I see you moved up in the world, Spot. Got a river view and everything." Jack states with a smirk, as the boy jumps down from his perch.

Davey jumps back, mentally cursing everything.

The boy, who Davey was assuming was Spot, laughs as he spit-shakes with Jack.

"Heya Boots. How's it rollin'?" Spot asks Boots, turning to face him.

I gotta say, he is good looking. Davey thinks to himself. Wait- what? He turns bright red, mentally smacking himself for that thought.

Well, I've figured out why I've never gotten a crush on a girl...

"I got a couple of real good shooters." Boots informs Spot, taking out some marbles/rocks, and holding them out for Spot.

Spot smirks, taking one of the marbles, and pulling out his slingshot.

"Yeah. So, Jacky-boy. I've been hearing things from little birds. Things from Harlem, Queens, all over. They been chirpin' in my ear." Spot starts. "Jacky-boy's newsies is playing like they're going on strike." Spot loads his slingshot, and firing it, smashing a random beer bottle.

Davey flinches again, causing Spot to smirk at him.

Davey was a little offended that Spot didn't think they were true to their word, but he understood, mainly because they brought him.

Like come on, you could've brought anyone to convince Spot and you brought me? Davey thinks to himself. I'm the pinnacle of anxiety. I wouldn't believe you if I say me in on this.

"Yeah, well we .are" Jack tells Spot, looking to Davey for help.

"We're not playing. We are going on strike." Davey tells Spot, stepping forward as he gained a bit of confidence.

"Oh yeah? Yeah?" Spot questions. "What is this, Jacky-boy? Some kind of walking mouth?" Spot asks, slipping his pimp-cane under Davey's chin to force Davey to look at him.

There goes that confidence. Davey thinks, blushing more than he wanted to be as he diverts his eyes away from Spot's gaze.

Spot chuckles at him. The kid's a bit cute.

"Yeah, it's a mouth." Jack responds, stepping in between Spot and Davey, and forcing Spot to drop his pimp-cane from under Davey's chin. "A mouth with a brain, and if you got half a one, you'll listen to what he's got to say."

Spot nods, going to sit on a crate, as Davey starts.

"Well, we started the strike, but we can't do
it alone." Davey starts. "So, we're talking to newsies all around the city."

Spot noticed that Davey didn't look him in the eyes.

Spot shares a look with his second, Ace, who shrugs.

"Yeah, so they told me. But what'd they tell you?" Spot asks, cutting Davey off.

Davey huffs, frustrated that he was cut off. He sends Spot a half-hearted glare.

Spot snickers a bit.

"They're waiting to see what Spot Conlon is doing, you're the key. That Spot Conlon is the most respected and famous newsie in all of New York, and probably everywhere else." Davey was mentally kicking himself for what he was saying.

The boy is cute, but he doesn't need his ego inflated.

"And if Spot Conlon joins the strike, then they join and we'll be unstoppable. So you gotta join, I mean... well, you gotta!" Davey finishes.

Spot smirks at Davey, who forces himself to look away from Spot.

"You're right Jacky-boy, brains. But I got brains too, and more than just half a one." Spot tells him. "How do I know you punks won't run the first time some goon comes at ya with a club?" He asks. "How do I know you got what it takes to win?"

Davey sighs a bit.

"Because I'm telling you, Spot." Jack responds, sounding a bit defeated.

"That ain't good enough Jacky-boy. You gotta show me." Spot tells Jack.

Jack nods.

The three boys start walking away, when Spot stops Davey.

Jack and Boots look at Spot.

"You're cute when you're flustered, confused, and frustrated." Spot whispers in Davey's ear, smirking.

Davey's mouth gapes as he turns bright red.

"Uh- than- thanks?" Davey whispers, eyes wide.

Spot snickers a bit, turning and walking away.

Davey heads back with Boots and Jack, still very red, as they leave Brooklyn and Spot's line of vision.

"What did he say to you?" Jack asks.

Davey takes a deep breath, before repeating what Spot said, turning even more red.

"Ha! Spot thinks your cute! Who would've thought?" Boots laughs.

The two boys continue to tease an already flustered Davey, neither noticing how confused Davey was.

He's a boy...

What do I do?

The next day
In Brooklyn

"Spot! Spot!" Bush comes running down the dock, to where Spot, Ace, Smokes (his third), Hotshot (his fourth), and Red (his fifth) had been talking.

Spot turns around. "Yes Bush?" He asks, his eyebrows furrowed.

"The Manhattan Newsies!" Bush exclaims, panting hard.

"Breathe Bush, breathe." Ace whispers him, wrapping his arms around him.

It takes a few minutes, but Bush eventually calms down, and starts explaining.

"That boy, Davey!" He exclaims. "He started the strike, got the boys all riled up. They fought scabs, plus Oscar and Morris, and were winning. Then, the bulls came." Bush stops for a minute.

Spot's eyes widen.

Ace and Hotshot share a look. Crap.

"They had to retreat, but Crutchie got taken to the Refuge." Bush frowns. "Though, if I may add," he smirks a bit. "that Davey kid is smart. He had some good speeches." He winks at Spot.

Spot throws his hat at him, as Bush takes off, giggling.

"He hangs out with you all too much." Spot mutters, going and picking his hat up.

The other boys laugh.

"Is Brooklyn going to help?" Smokes asks Spot.

Spot nods. "They stood their ground." Spot responds. "They proved they're in this, so we'll keep our word as well." He tells Smokes.

Smiles nods.

"Plus," Hotshot starts, elbowing Spot. "The new kid's cute." He wiggles his eyebrows.

Spot shoots him a smirk.

The other boys laugh a bit.

The next day
Manhattan, New York

Davey was trying, more like failing, to fight off two scabs when he saw a bunch of boys pop up on the roof.

What the heck?

"Never fear! Brooklyn's here!" Someone shouts.

Spot!

Davey could already hear the cocky smirk.

He felt his face warm up as someone punched him in the stomach.

"Ouch." Davey grunts, dodging another punch that was aimed for his head.

A bunch of rocks started flying, and hitting the scabs.

Man, these Brooklyn boys have good aim.

Out of the corner of his eye, Davey saw Spot sliding down a cord with his pimp-cane.

Wants to be center of attention much? We are so different. Davey thinks to himself.

Spot jumps down and spit-shakes with Jack, before heading to find Davey.

When he found Davey, Davey had a black eye, bloody nose, and was holding his stomach area.

"Geez, not a great fighter are we, doll face?" Spot asks Davey with a smirk.

Davey turns a bit red, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not a girl." Davey responds, bitterly laughing to himself.

"Nah, you're cuter than any girls I've seen." Spot responds, winking at Davey.

Davey turns pink, looking away.

He jumps to dodge another scab, mentally hating this, mainly because he felt stupid since he wasn't a good fighter.

Davey stood beside Jack, when Spot came over to him, slinging his arm around Davey's shoulder.

Davey turns red. Daring and confident, are we?

Can't relate.

Denton takes the picture, Davey still bright red and caught off guard.

Spot smirks at him after, winking before walking off.

Davey looks at him as he walks away.

He heard snickers from next to him, but he didn't really care.

He was confused, flustered, and didn't know if he knew what was okay and wasn't anymore,

Cause this definitely wasn't.

But did he care?

He didn't really know.

1772 Words
I might make a sequel to this lol.
I've posted a lot today, and be prepared for more.