Author's note: I do not own West Side Story or any elements of it.
A FEW DAYS LATER
After the storm, the air seemed to clear slightly. It was colder still, but dry and bright.
Given that her exam was coming up soon, Vivienne had spent most of her time studying, with the small exception of a visit from a few of the Jets on account of an almost-broken-nose of Tiger, and the sore fist of Action who had delivered the punch. Action seemed to be the only Jet that was hesitant about her - always watching her with suspicious eyes and a reluctance to let her tend to him. She tried to ignore it, on account of reminding herself that it didn't really matter what any of them thought of her, but couldn't help and feel the slightest bit conscious when she realised she wanted the warmth of trust from all of them.
On a free morning, Vivienne decided to walk out to get some air before she would spend the rest of the day inside over her books.
Out on the street, it was somewhat busy with people arranging their storefronts and residents sitting outside on their stoops to catch some of the winter sun.
As she stood outside the store, looking at the bright vegetables and winter honeysuckle, she heard a voice behind her.
"Hey, Vivienne, right?"
She turned around and squinted at the person standing in front of her. She had half expected it to be a Jet, and was strangely disappointed when it wasn't. He looked familiar, and it took her a moment to recognise him as someone from her class - a handsome guy with dark eyes and broad shoulders.
"Oh, yeah. Hi."
"Michael."
"I know." She hadn't known, but did now. She recognised him as one of the boys that all the girls batted their eyelashes at and giggled with. Rightly so, she thought, he was definitely a looker. She smiled convincingly enough. "How are you? Do you live around here?"
"No, I was just visiting a friend. You?"
"Yeah, just around the corner."
Michael smiled at her and put his hands into his pockets. His smile was warm and obvious, and she realised now that she didn't know what to say. She hardly interacted with the others she went to school with outside of the occasional group discussion. Now, she felt out of her element - a strange feeling for someone who spent most of their free time in the company of a troublesome gang.
"Are you ready for the exam?" she asked, somewhat awkwardly. Isn't this what people talked about when they had nothing else to say?
"I think so. About as ready as I'll ever be. What about you?"
"Oh, you know. Trying to cram as much as is humanly possible."
"Yeah." He watched her, and suddenly seemed shy. "You don't talk to anyone much. In class, I mean."
"Yeah, I'm sort of a keep-to-myself type."
"I figured as much. But you always have something interesting to say when you do."
"Oh. Well, thanks." When she felt a heat rise to her cheeks, she cursed herself. It wasn't the first time a boy had given her attention and it wouldn't be the last, but she still felt the cliché giddiness that came with the interaction. It must have been because none of the other 'boys' she had been spending time with recently ever made the effort to be polite to her, she figured. Plus, it had been a while since she'd been with a man beyond surface level flirting, so she wondered if perhaps her biological instinct was betraying her.
"You should hang out with us more, after class," he suggested, shoving his hands into his pockets to feign casualness. "It would be nice to get to know you a bit more."
Vivienne suddenly felt very alert, and knew exactly why. Glancing subtly over her shoulder, she couldn't see them, but she knew they were there. Then, like clockwork, she saw from across the street Riff, Balkan, and Diesel walking towards the hardware store. The other two didn't look in her direction, but Riff was watching as they crossed from one sidewalk to another, his gaze locked towards them with curiosity. He didn't miss anything. Vivienne fought the urge to roll her eyes - this was Jet territory after all - and turned back to Michael.
"Maybe," she replied, trying to be polite as possible.
"Would you like to grab a coffee with me? Now?" he suddenly asked, spurred on by her vague commitment.
"Umm..." She tried not to look back behind her again. "Maybe some other time. I should really get back and study."
He looked disappointed, but managed to hide it somewhat well. "Yeah, of course. Well, I'll see you round."
"See you."
As he walked away, Vivienne let out a breath. Interacting with her classmates was something she had tried to avoid, but being caught in conversation in her neighbourhood had been unprecedented. As she thought about starting to head back home, she heard the sounds of yelling from behind her. She turned around, seeing a small crowd begin to gather around where the Jets had wandered. She wanted to ignore it and go home, but her curiosity got the better of her and she found herself walking over, peering over the shoulders of those taller than her.
Outside the hardware store, Diesel seemed to be engaged in a yelling match with another young man. It was one she didn't know, but could see even from where she stood that he was Puerto Rican, and by her guess, a Shark. Balkan stood firmly beside him, but she noted the strangeness of how Riff stood back from them both, keeping to himself but sternly observing from behind.
"What the hell do you think you're doin' here?" she heard Diesel argue.
"Ellos no tienen lo que necesito en la tienda en nuestro extremo de la ciudad!" the Puerto Rican replied, somewhat desperate between his agitation.
More yelling ensued, and from nowhere she saw Ice, Mouthpiece, and Action appear from nowhere, leaving the Shark outnumbered. Upon realising this, he panicked, and threw something towards them, a hammer from the stand outside perhaps, and shoved Diesel back into some shelves. Then he was gone, slipping from the chaos quickly and slyly. Vivienne almost felt pleased for him.
Diesel stumbled up from the ground, face red with embarrassment.
"Hey!" the storekeeper yelled, appearing from nowhere. "You gotta clean that up!"
"I didn't do nothin!" Diesel snapped in return, his chest rising and falling in anger.
"I don't care. You no-good pieces of shit clean this up, now. Go hang out by the rubble and dirt where you belong."
Riff, now choosing to speak up, stepped forward.
"Oh yeah? How's this?" he asked, smirk growing on his face.
He then leaned forward and kicked over a stand containing boxes of nails, the contents tinkling onto the ground in a hundred ways.
As if they were all on the same sudden train of thought, Diesel now reached up and started throwing tools onto the ground himself, the other Jets joining in. It was childish and juvenile, and Vivienne crossed her arms disapprovingly at the sight of it. They all hollered and laughed as the storekeeper yelled. At the chaos, the crowd seemed to dissipate, and soon Vivienne was left staring at them as they suddenly ran out of things to turn over and destroy. Riff turned around, feeling her stare, and walked up to her before she'd had the chance to leave.
"Why the sour face, doll?" he asked, his breath rising and falling from the exertion.
"Are you enjoying yourselves?" she replied, nodding towards the mess they had made.
"Oh yeah. Wanna join?"
"No, thanks. I'm due downtown to throw bricks at windows and take candy from kids."
Riff let his smile grow in amusement, but it quickly faltered when they heard the sound of sirens screaming across the street. They both turned to see a pair of police cars turning the corner, their tires screeching against the ground when they arrived at the site where they stood.
"Jets!" Riff called, and they took off in various directions immediately, understanding his instruction from the single word.
Vivienne felt a hand on hers, and turned to see Riff closer beside her now, an almost excited grin spreading across his face.
"Come on!" he commanded.
"No way, I-"
Her words were lost as she felt herself being yanked off her feet as he pulled her by her arm to run.
Dragged behind him, she felt herself become lost in the sound of yelling and scuffle, only coming to her senses when she found herself being pulled off the side street and into an alley. Riff jerked them both forward, until they were around the corner. He pushed her towards the wall, pressing himself against her tightly whilst they heard the sounds of running feet go straight past them.
Riff, panting, let out a small laugh of relief before looking down at Vivienne.
Their bodies still pressed close together, the smile fell from his lips as he let his hand rest against the brick wall next to her. She looked up at him, her heart pounding from the adrenaline from both the escape and their current position.
For what seemed like forever, they both remained still - only their chests rising and falling just inches away from each other.
Riff watched her with his sharp eyes, keeping his gaze locked on her as she looked completely torn between excitement, anger, and temptation.
For a moment, she waited for him to move closer, horrified when she realised that a small part of herself wanted to see what would happen if he did.
When the sound of yelling from the street broke their spell, she quickly placed both her hands against his chest, pushing him away. Something flickered across his eyes - disappointment, perhaps - before she began to chastise him.
"Why did you drag me with you?" she snapped, her voice low. "Now I'm part of this."
"Relax, nobody saw."
"How do you know that? If I get caught with you, then the cops are bound to ask questions about why I'm talking to you."
"Just tell 'em it's my fault," he offered, stepping forward once more. "They'll believe you over me, that's for sure."
"You always have an answer for everything, don't you?" she bit back. "Think you're so smart."
"I'm the smartest guy in the room," he smirked, once again leaning forward to trap her against the wall, both his hands blocking her in. "And I bet that really pisses you off."
"God," she grunted, inching away from him. "You're so-"
"What?" he asked, his voice dropping low. "What am I?"
She looked up and caught his eyes, finding herself once more trapped on the spot by his gaze. "You're..."
"Hey! Stay right there!" a stern voice yelled in their direction.
Both their heads snapped towards the source of the noise, and saw two cops running towards them. Once again, Riff grabbed her by the wrist to pull her forward. But they didn't get fair when Vivienne felt herself being pulled back by a stronger pair of arms. Her instinct to fight back was quickly stamped out when she turned her head to see she was now being held by a police officer.
"Dammit Riff," the other police officer said, who was now scrambling to hold Riff against the wall. "Why you gotta make everything so difficult?"
"Hey, easy," Riff grunted. He then looked up in Vivienne's direction. "She ain't with us."
"You know this guy?" the officer holding Vivienne asked her. She glanced towards Riff, who watched her intently.
"No," she lied. "He just pulled me over here."
"Yeah right." A third officer seemed to appear out of nowhere. "I saw them talkin' before it all went down. I'll be damned if they don't know each other."
"Alright, both of you, down to the station."
Vivienne began to panic then as they were pushed towards the car. It would all come crumbling down now. Her association with them, their deal...and now she would be stuck in a police station for who-knows-how-long when she was just a few days away from her big exam - the one thing she'd been training and waiting for. She felt her breath quicken, both in anger and in fear of the consequences, and let herself be placed in the back of the cop car beside Riff. Diesel was in there too, having already been caught. A thick trickle of blood ran down his nose.
"Don't panic," Riff mumbled to her, his voice low as to not be heard by the officers in the front. "We'll deal with this."
But she barely heard him over the sounds of her own racing mind. Racing with angry words and spluttered excuses.