“It’s Alex! And you think you can make me do whatever you want? Well I’m not gonna take orders from anyone, least of all you.” The blonde girl glared at Spot, standing her ground.

“I said I ain’t gonna argue,“ he sighed. “Now I’se a gentleman Alex, an’ I don’t like ta see a goil get hurt. That’s why I’m gonna turn my back while me boys do it for me. So eithah you leave, or I give them the order. What’s it gonna be?”

A group of five large newsies started moving in on Alex. She slowly backed away and glared at Spot as she started to walk through the gates.

“You sure as hell ain’t a gentleman,” she yelled back at Spot. He pretended to be hurt at what she’d said, but when she was gone, he turned and grinned at his boys.

“Like I care ‘bout bein’ a gentleman. So long’s I got a goil ta keep me happy and… occupied.” Spot smiled in anticipation of the next girl he hoped to find. Picking up a stack of papers, he walked out and started off a long day.

Spot groaned as he heard yet another whistle from the police. “Damn bulls,” he muttered under his breath, as he started to run. He turned into an alleyway, and before the cops could get there, ducked behind a pile of crates. Trying to slow his breathing so that the cops couldn’t hear it echoing off the walls, he listened to them speak.

“Did you see where that boy went,” one cop asked.

“No. Let’s check this way.”

Spot heard footsteps running slowly away from the alley he was hidden in. He waited, knowing that the cops sometimes tried to trick the newsies so they could catch them. But after five minutes of silence, he decided the threat was gone.

He stood up and walked cautiously out of the alley, looking around just in case. Not seeing the cops, he turned and started walking in the direction of his lodging house. As he walked past one staircase that led into a very nice house, his foot hit something soft that uttered a muffled groan when he kicked it.

Looking left and right, and seeing an empty street, he knelt down and rolled over what he had kicked. The soft something turned out to be a girl. She had long, wavy black hair that was matted to her face with blood but even so, she was still one of the prettier girls Spot had seen in awhile.

Spot picked the girl up in his arms, and smiled as he walked back to the lodging house. ‘Another toy for me to play with,’ he thought, as he entered the building and walked up the stairs.

Waking up the next morning, Spot groaned at his stiff back. “What the hell am I doin’ in da main bunkroom,” he wondered aloud, then remembering what had happened the night before, a smile crossed his face. Slowly meandering around the room, he thought about the best way to make this girl fall for him. ‘It isn’t every day I get a great opportunity like this,’ he thought. “I mean, getting to sleep with a girl is good enough,” he said, finally speaking out loud, “but I’ve always been a sucker for virgins.”

“How you know da goil’s a virgin, Spot?” one of his newsies asked him.

“Aww, I can pick ‘em out easy,” he said, with the widely known smirk crossing his face. “I’ve had a lot of practice. ’Sides, she just looks like one. Too innocent-lookin’. An’ it don’t look like she gets out much.” He sneered, but then started to laugh as he walked downstairs to get breakfast.

Spot looked down at the girl snuggled tightly in his blankets. She was curled up on her side, and there was still some blood on her hair and face that he’d been unable to get off the night before.

Spot sat down next to the bed and moved the hair away from her face. Her eyelashes fluttered open and bright green eyes stared up into his. Confusion crossed her eyes, and then before Spot could blink, she was up against the wall, a scared look in her face.

“I don’t care what you did to me while I was knocked out, but I don’t wanna know, so just let me leave and I won’t report you to anyone.” She pulled the blanked tightly around herself, then, realizing it was his, she threw it away from her and jumped out of the bed.

As she started heading towards the door, Spot grabbed her wrist and spun her around to face him. She looked at him, and before either could form a coherent thought, her hand flew and struck his cheek.

‘Why do I even bother,’ Spot wondered, as he threw himself in front of the door so she couldn’t leave. “Look,” he said, finally speaking to her, “I didn’t do anything ta you while you was sleepin’! I foundja outside some building, an’ you was knocked out, so I brought you here. Nuthin’ happened, okay?”

She looked at him suspiciously, but after awhile of looking onto his calm, blue eyes, she backed down and sat on the bed.

“So what happened to ya anyways? Why was you out there on that doorstep? An’ do ya got a name?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” she replied, staring coldly at him. “And my name is Maggie.”

Spot put his hands up defensively and smiled at her. “Okay Maggie, I’m sorry. Now what d’ya say ta some food?” he asked her, putting his hand out to lead her to the kitchen.

“That sounds wonderful,” Maggie said. She stood up and walked past him towards the door, knocking his hand away as she left.

‘Why do I bother,’ he asked himself again, staring up at the roof and sighing, then finally leaving the room after Maggie.

Not knowing where she was going proved to be somewhat of a problem. Maggie turned into the first door she saw, and found herself in a room full of half-clothed boys.

“Well hey there, doll,” one of them said, putting his arm around her and pulling her against his bare chest.

Maggie didn’t know what to do, and felt completely helpless until Spot walked in behind her and started yelling at the other boys.

“Whadda ya think yer doin’?” he asked angrily. “Dis goil’s had a bad night, an’ she ain’t here for your entertainment!” He stopped, and looked at one boy who was about to say something back to him. “So shut it, ya heah?” The boy paused, then nodded in agreement.

Spot put his arm around Maggie’s waist, but pulled it back as he felt her stiffen. “C’mon,” he said kindly to her. “We were goin’ for food, right?” He smiled, and when she finally smiled back, took her back out of the bunkroom and downstairs to the kitchen.

When she walked into the room, Maggie’s stomach growled at the smell of sausage sizzling in the pan, and her mouth watered at the sight of warm, fluffy biscuits. Spot looked at her, and without thinking, said, “been a long time since ya had a real meal, huh?” Maggie swirled around and glared at him.

“Hey, I’m not tryin’ ta be mean,” he said, raising his hands defensively. “You just don’t look too healthy, ya know? I’m glad I foundja when I did.”

Maggie stopped glaring and settled down into a chair at the table. Spot pulled out the chair closest to her and sat down in it.

“See, I’m not as bad as ya thought, right?” he asked. “Out there in the bunkroom?” She still didn’t say anything. “C’mon, I know you’re not totally heartless,” he continued. “How can something so beautiful be mean?” He smiled at her when she looked up at him, but this time she had surprise, and even kindness in her eyes.

“I guess not,” she said, “but I still don‘t know you.” She paused, looked down, then brought her eyes back to his. “Thanks. For whatever you did for me, since I don’t exactly remember. But thanks.” She smiled meekly at him, and he smiled back.

“You’re welcome. But we’re gonna tawk about that later. Now,” and he paused, then continued with flourish, “it’s time to eat.”

After having seconds and thirds, Maggie finally started to slow down. She ripped off a piece of the biscuit on her plate, and as she stuffed it into her mouth, she felt eyes on her. Maggie slowly swallowed the piece in her mouth, and looked up to see Spot staring at her.

“What,” she asked, concerned.

“So I was right when I said ya looked hungry,” he said teasing her.

“Yeah? What’s your point,” she asked him, defensively. “And why aren’t you eating?”

“I already had breakfast. I got up early ’cause da beds in da regulah bunkroom ain’t that comfy. An’ since you were in my bed, I thought I’d bettah not sleep in there. From da way you’se been treatin’ me since I rescued ya, it’s a good thing I didn’t try.”

“Well sorry. After what…” She stopped and stared down at the hands crossed in her lap. “Never mind.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me anything now,” he said smiling. “But if you’re done eatin’…” Maggie nodded and he continued. “Then I think we better finish cleanin’ your face. Every time I tried ta touch you, ya squirmed away, so I couldn’t get it all off.”

Maggie reached up and touched her face. “You let me come down here looking like this?”

“Don’t worry. It’s just a little bit near where your hair is.” He stood up and offered his hand again. This time she took it, and smiled at him. “Let’s go clean you up,” he said.

When they got to the washroom, Spot pulled a chair over to one of the sinks and gestured for Maggie to sit down. She sat in the chair and Spot picked up a washcloth that had been left in the sink. He wet it and started to clean the dried blood off of Maggie’s face. He looked down into her eyes, which were staring at him, but when he looked, she dropped her own eyes and stared at her feet.

‘God, what am I doing?’ she chided herself. ‘I mean, I don’t know anything about him,’ she thought. ‘And with my past experience with males, I shouldn’t even think about this. It must just be a physical attraction,’ she assured herself. ‘I’ll never let what just happened the other night happen again.’

Spot finished washing her face and smiled. “There, good as new. You clean up nicely. Even more beautiful den I thought possible.” She blushed, and he mentaly congratulated himself. ‘Good,’ he thought. ‘It’s working already.’

“Now let’s get you back to bed,” he said pulling her up out of the chair. “You’re gonna need s’more sleep, since it seems like you’ve had a rough time.”

Spot led Maggie back into his room and pulled back the blanket for her. She got into the bed and sighed as her head fell into the pillow. Spot leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Now go ta bed, doll,” he ordered her playfully.

Spot watched as she closed her eyes and her breathing slowed. When she was finally asleep, he left the room and quietly closed the door. ‘This is going nicely,’ he thought to himself. ‘It won’t be too long…’ And he smiled.

Spot walked out of the lodging house, whistling a song he couldn‘t remember the name of. He bought his papers for the day and headed out to begin selling. Looking in the paper and finding nothing worth exaggerating, he made up his own headline.

“Extra, extra! France in civil war! Paris in shambles! Extra, extra!” He was swamped with people, but when they finally cleared after getting their papers, Spot saw the cops from the night before, and decided to change his strategy.

He looked down at the front page and yelled out what was actually written there. “Uh… extra, extra, cold spell expected… getcha papahs while ya can.” The people who were left started drifting away, and the two policemen walked up to him.

The younger cop tapped Spot on the shoulder, and when he turned around, the cop started to reach into his jacket. Spot looked and saw the Billy club that was right by the cop’s hand.

“Whoa, I ain’t done nothin' mister. Don’t hurt me.”

Confusion crossed the man’s eyes, but he then saw the stick that was so close to his hand and laughed. “No, don’t worry, you haven’t done anything.” He pulled out a picture and showed it to Spot. “Have you seen this girl?” he asked. “We need to bring her in for suspected murder, and figured she may have tried to get work as a newsie.”

Spot looked down at the picture and saw the face of the blonde girl who’d tried to sell papers the day before. “Alex!” he said under his breath. “That lyin’, cheatin’…”

“What did you say?” the older cop asked, looking suspiciously at Spot.

“Naw, I don’t know ‘er,” Spot said. “Sorry boys… you wanna buy a pape?” he asked hopefully.

The younger policeman took the paper and started to walk away, then turned back and flipped a quarter to Spot. He grabbed it and walked in the other direction smiling to himself.

Spot entered the lodging house and headed upstairs towards his own bedroom. He opened the door and saw Maggie jump away from the dresser she had obviously been going through. One of the drawers was open, and a few of Spot’s things were scattered along the top of the dresser.

“What were you doin’?” Spot asked Maggie.

“Actually, I was looking for some clean clothes to wear, and I found some stuff in that drawer. I didn’t steal anything,” she added, assuming that Spot wouldn’t believe her.

“Okay, it’s fine, I’m not gonna hurt you.” Spot walked over and picked up a picture that was lying on top of the dresser.

“Dis is my family,” he said staring at the picture. Maggie walked over to stand next to him, so close that the two were touching. Spot looked up from the picture and into Maggie’s eyes. She quickly looked down and pointed to the small boy in the picture.

“So, uh, that’s you?” she asked with a slight shake in her voice.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

They stood there staring at the picture for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts; Spot wondering what else he could do to make Maggie fall for him, and Maggie wondering why she was so attracted to Spot. They both decided they’d been standing there long enough and, and spoke at the same time.

“Well…“

“I think…“

They both laughed. “You first,” Maggie said.

“I think we should go get some dinner,” Spot said. “Neither of us have eaten since this mornin’… although if I remember correctly, you ate quite a lot,” he teased. “So, ya hungry?” Maggie nodded.

Spot put down the picture, walked over to the door and opened it. “Ladies foist,” he said, with a phony bow. Maggie giggled, and curtsied before walking through the door, and Spot followed, closing the door behind them When they got down to the kitchen, Spot went over to the table and pulled out a chair for Maggie. She sat down and smiled up at him. ‘Good,’ Spot thought to himself. ‘She’s finally warming up to me. I was worried she wouldn’t go for me, the way she was acting.’

“Thinking hard,” Maggie joked, seeing the far-away look in Spot’s eyes.

“Yeah, but I ain’t gonna tell you now,” he said smiling down at her. “Ask me in a couple days.”

He went to the stove and got two bowls of soup for himself and Maggie, then put the bowls on the table and sat down next to her. “So,” Spot said between bites, “are you gonna tell me how you ended up all bloody on that staircase?”

Maggie thought about it for a moment, trying to decide if she could trust him. She looked down at the bowl in front of her and sighed, then she looked up at Spot. “I’ll tell you, but not right now. Can we talk about it after dinner?”

He nodded. “Shoa, whatever ya want.”

“Good.” They continued eating, and when they were both full, they headed back upstairs toward Spot’s bedroom.

Spot closed the door behind the two of them. Maggie walked over and sat down on the bed with her head down and her hands in her lap. Spot sat down next to her.

“You shoa you wanna talk about this?” Spot asked her seriously.

“Yeah,” she said after a deep breath. “The way you’ve been treating me all day… well I know I can trust you.”

‘This is going great!’ Spot congratulated himself. ’I was worried she wouldn’t open up at all.’ Spot put his arm around Maggie’s shoulders. “I’m glad you know that now,” he said.

“Yeah. Well, I guess it started when I was thirteen years old. That’s when my mom died,” Maggie began softly. Spot squeezed her arm in comfort, and she continued.

“After that, my dad started having women over. And soon, some of his friends were bringing girls over too. They’d all get drunk and then go into the bedrooms to…” Maggie blushed. “Well, I didn’t really know what they were doing back then, but um…” she trailed off.

“It’s okay,” Spot said. “You don’t have to say it, I know what you mean.” Maggie smiled up gratefully at him, then went on with her story.

“One time when I was fourteen, one of the guys, Eric, asked if I wanted to uh… Well, you know. I told him no and ran into my bedroom. He didn’t pester me for awhile, but a year later he asked me again. I told him no and threatened to hit him, but he just laughed.” She stopped for a bit to catch her breath, and her thoughts. Spot just sat next to her and kept his arm around her shoulders to make her feel comforted. She finally took a deep breath and spoke again.

“He kept asking me until I was fifteen, and then my dad started joining in with the pestering, saying I didn’t have to be afraid of Eric. They never actually forced me to do anything, but they sometimes threatened me. It wasn’t very often, but I guess that doesn’t make it okay.” She stopped again, but only for a few seconds. “Yesterday, the night you found me? That was my seventeenth birthday. That’s when he and my dad finally tried to force me. They said I was seventeen, and that I was almost a woman. My dad said he was sick of taking care of me, and if I didn’t go with Eric, he’d throw me out on the street. Not that he normally took care of me at all, but I was scared, so I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. They eventually got it away from me and beat me up, but that was all they did. Except for throwing me out the door and telling me never to come back. That’s the last thing I remember before I blacked out.” Maggie looked up at Spot with tears in her eyes. “So that’s what happened.”

“I’m so sorry,” Spot said. “You didn’t have to tell me if ya didn’t want to.”

“But I did,” Maggie responded. “You’ve been so nice to me, and all I did was act like a stuck-up brat. I just thought that all guys were my dad’s friends, but you’re not. You’re different.”

That comment almost struck something in Spot, but he brushed the thought aside, and told himself that at least he was pretending to like her.

Maggie looked into Spot face and suddenly burst into tears. He put his arms around her, holding and rocking her until she stopped crying. Maggie sloppily wiped her tears away, and, looking at Spot, she started to laugh.

“An’ just what is so funny?” Spot asked her, trying to look serious but smiling anyway.

“Your shirt,” she gasped out between laughs. “It’s all wet!” She giggled, looking up at him.

“So ya think it’s funny do ya?” he said, laughing along with her. Maggie nodded, so Spot leaned over and began tickling her.

“No!” Maggie shrieked. “No, stop it.” But she was laughing as hard as he was. She fell backwards, trying to squirm away from Spot, and he purposely fell on top of her. They both stopped laughing and just stared at each other.

Spot suddenly stood up and said, “Well, I guess we’d better to bed, since I have to sell papes, and you… well, yeah.” Maggie looked up at him in confusion as he walked to the door, and just before it clicked closed, he added, “g’night.”

Spot walked into the main bunkroom and, finding the lights off and everyone in bed, he quietly lay down in one of the bunks. There was silence for a moment, then a voice whispered to him from the other side of the room.

“So didja sleep with ‘er yet, Spot?”

“No, you idiot,” Spot whispered back, as if the answer were obvious. “It’s only the first day. Gimmie four more, and then… “ He left it hanging for all the newsies to let their own imaginations decide what was going to happen. “Now go to sleep,” he ordered quietly

In the silence that followed, Spot congratulated himself again. ‘Man, it only took a day for her to open up to me. It might not even take four days before I’ve got her in bed.’ With this thought, Spot smiled and eventually fell asleep.

Maggie lay on the bed after the door clicked shut behind Spot. ‘Oh god,’ she thought. ‘What am I doing? I never thought I’d be thinking about this kind of thing, especially after what just happened to me yesterday, but he’s so cute, and sweet. And he cares about me. But then why didn’t he kiss me just then? I know we both wanted to. He must be worried about making me move too fast… not like I’d really mind…’ Maggie started laughing at herself, never having believed that she’d actually wonder what sex was like. But she did wonder, and all her dreams that night were about Spot, though she didn’t remember them in the morning.