Chapter Thirty-One

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Author's note: I do not own West Side Story or any elements of it.

Baby John walked down the street, hanging on the outskirts of the Jets as they travelled together, as he always did. 

There was a new excitement in the air following news of Riff's release. Although he couldn't help but think that there was a big storm coming and nobody else knew about it apart from him.

"Do ya think Riff's gonna have some good stories? Maybe some wicked scars?" Mouthpiece blabbered as they went.

Diesel ribbed him with his elbow. "He's gettin' out for 'good behaviour', numbskull. He ain't gonna have nothin' interestin' to say about it."

"Alright boys," Ice spoke. "When Riff gets out, we gotta have somethin' big planned for him to celebrate. So put all your empty skulls together and try and come up with somethin'."

"Alright, we're here."

Baby John looked up and felt his heart stop. He hadn't even notice that they'd been walking down Viv's street, and were now standing outside her building.

"What are we doin' here?" he asked, trying to sound calm, casual.

"Well Riff gettin' out means Viv's comin' back too, so I figured we'd better stop by on the way to the park just to check it's all in order up there. No squatters or nothin'."

"Is Riff gonna be livin' there now that his place is no-go?" Tiger asked, looking up at the building.

"I guess so. I mean, I don't see where else he'd go. They're pretty damn serious."

You have no idea, Baby John thought to himself.

"Let's go."

Baby John quickly ran ahead, bringing himself to Ice's side.

"Hey, why don't we just head straight to the park? I'm sure ain't nothin' wrong up there."

Ice quirked his brow and walked past him. "I'm sure too, but it's worth a check."

"Yeah, but we don't even got a key," Baby John countered, stepping in front of Ice now, who sighed and crossed his arms.

"So what, you never picked a lock before? Quit messin' around--"

"Why don't you let me go up and check? Ain't no reason for all of us to go."

Baby John felt his chest rise and fall with quickened breaths. He tried to look cool, to swallow down his rising panic. If they saw him like this, they'd know something was up. But he hadn't quite mastered the subtle art of deception yet, and he could tell from their curious and amused stares that he'd blown it already.

"What's goin' on, Baby J?" Action asked, stepping forward, his voice teasing. 

"Nothin'."

"What'cha done this time?" Mouthpiece asked, reaching forward and giving him a playful shove.

"I ain't done nothin'," Baby John stammered, searching for an excuse. "I just don't wanna go up there, it's borin', alright?"

"Look at this guy! Who does he think he's foolin'?" Balkan laughed.

"You got somethin' you need to tell us?" Ice asked, serious. He watched Baby John, daring him to say something else.

Baby John puffed his chest, trying to appear tall. He couldn't lie, but he could try and be commanding.

"No," he replied sternly. Although his voice was shaking. "But you guys ain't goin' up there."

The Jets looked at each other, and Baby John thought they might accept it for a moment. Until they all started to laugh.

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