A/N: That's right, another Newsies high school AU. At this point, I don't have many author's notes, except to be prepared for a bumpy and long ride.

Spot Conlon lit up his cigarette and looked wearily at the gates of Pulitzer High School— a different year, a different school, the same old routine. Blowing out his smoke in a long exhale, he leaned against a tree and watched. He didn't know exactly what he was looking at, probably just the people in general, but surveying the scene always made him feel better, like he had the chance of maybe making some acquaintances. Actually— he glanced around and scrunched his nose up, unlikely, considering he was in Manhattan.

"Watch out," came a harsh voice, and Spot clenched his fists so he wouldn't punch the guy out.

"You watch yourself, dude. I'm standing fuckin' still— you're the one who should be paying attention."

The boy, obviously older than Spot himself, swiveled around and glared down at him. He was tall, had a bandana, and looked, for the most part, like your typical jock. Except for the unnecessary cowboy attire of course. Spot wanted to laugh in his face.

"What did you just say to me, freshman?" the boy growled, making Spot roll his eyes.

"Sophomore. And you heard me. Also, if you don't want to be in the nurse's office before first period, I'd stay outta my way, eh?"

The older boy just snarled and barred his teeth— Spot hated machismo. "I'm watching you," he muttered, before walking away.

Spot just rolled his eyes and dropped his cigarette. After a moment of watching the embers burn the grass around it, he snuffed the end out with his boot. School here would be no more exciting than it was in Brooklyn, that was for sure. He sighed and walked through the gates, finally, right before the warning bell rang.

Another year, another slow, agonizing death due to absolute boredom. Spot could hardly wait.