A Place For Us

Chapter One

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

CHAPTER ONE

The cars rattled the fire escapes and grates on the busy street. On the other side, store vendors were yelling inaudible commands to each other. The sun was beating down in a refreshing way that it only does during the first few days of summer. Down the sidewalk, a young man with wild eyes and a sharp face sauntered past the people going about their daily life.

Riff glanced occasionally to the odd passer-by. Some met his gaze with distain, some with nerves. Mothers swerved their young children out of his path. Across the street, he noted a police car with two officers parked on the side of the road. They munched on their coffee and doughnuts, but stopped to glare at Riff as he walked across their eyeline. He gave them a smirk and a salute, knowing that there wasn't much they could do about him just walking down the street. They sneered and looked away.

As he weaved past trash cans and open grates, Riff moved through the hustle and bustle like he had a hundred times before, with all the grace and purpose of a dancer that knew every move. The whole summer lay out ahead of him, and he felt optimistic. Tony was still in Sing Sing, but only for a few more months before he could come back and re-join the gang. As for the rest of the Jets, they had the wild energy and excitement of dogs. Knowing the cold was over and the summer stretched ahead of them with endless possibilities for trouble, there was a newfound buzz. Even with one of their own behind bars.

The only thing to put a damper on his mood was the rumblings of a new crew down on the west side. A few Puerto Ricans that seemed to be coming together and lurching further and further onto Jet territory. Riff smiled, knowing that he would only have to show them who was boss to get them off their turf. And if they didn't get the message? Then they could start having a bit of fun with them.

Riff picked up an apple from a fruit stall and flicked it into his other hand and into his pocket. He realised he was approaching the entrance to the police station and looked up at the overwhelming stone building. Decrepit and wasting away - much like all the officers in it, he thought.

As he smiled at his own train of thought he didn't see the figure stepping out of the door to the station and right into his path.

He felt himself jerk forward and crash into the other body. The apple fell out of his pocket and rolled onto the street, along with the pile of books and notepads the other person had been holding.

"Hey, watch it!" he snapped. He looked up and saw a young woman standing in front of him.

"Sorry," she mumbled. She bent down and started picking up her books. He stared down at her with a frown.

"Y'know, you should really look where you're goin'," he lectured. "You could bump into all sorts'a trouble makers on these streets."

She shot a glare up at him. "Well, it takes two people to walk into each other," she spat.

He quirked a brow. "Well, well. She talks back."

When she didn't respond, he looked around them. Nobody seemed to be paying them any mind. He bent down and picked up his apple, rubbing it against his pants for a subpar clean. When she'd collected everything from the ground, she rose back up and pulled her bag back over her shoulder. Riff looked at her closer. She was well-dressed, in a chocolate brown collared dress and carried a light jacket over her arm. Much too together to be coming out of the station as a detainee, he thought. But the station didn't have any ladies working there.

When she realised he had nothing to say to her, she brushed past him and gave him one last look of exasperation as she walked away. Riff turned to watch her go, and scoffed. Lil' miss uppity.

As he turned to leave he noticed something shiny on the ground. He looked down at his feet and saw a watch laying on the ground where they had collided. He looked back over his shoulder to check if she had gone before bending down and picking it up from the street. Strangely, the watch looked old and worn - the gold was scratched and chipped in certain places. He shrugged. Not good enough to sell or trade for anything, but he didn't feel like leaving it there. He shoved it into his pocket and began walking away, taking a bite of his apple as he went.