A Place For Us

Chapter Seven

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

CHAPTER SEVEN

Darcy carried the heavy weight of the grocery bags underneath her arm as she followed her dad down the street. She always accompanied him during their weekly run to the stores, thinking that she would keep tabs on things he would likely forget. They didn't talk that much - he was normally always tired or stressed from work - but they did enjoy their time together. She had liked being back home to watch out for him after everything that had been going on.

Sometimes, he would natter absentmindedly about things at work, probably not realising that she was always listening intently. She would worry about him, knowing how dangerous his job could be sometimes. After all, he was all she had.

But today, she kept one eye over her shoulder at all times. She knew that Riff could pop out at any minute. The night before had been so strange and she had barely slept a wink after their meeting. She wanted to slap herself and stop acting so stupid. The situation had trouble written all over it. But how could she? How could she force herself to walk away when every time Riff looked at her she wanted to know more and see more of what was going on behind his sharp, mischievous eyes.

As they stopped outside a clothing store, her dad flicked through some hats on a rack outside.

"Y'know," he started, staring down at the rack. "I worry about you sometimes. You don't seem to do all that much outside of coming to the station and helping out at home."

"I'm fine," she replied, hoisting the back further up her arm. "Really. I went out to the dance last night."

"Yeah, but that's not what I mean. I want you to make friends. Be happy. Not go to a dance every so often."

"I might be making some friends," she said quietly. She avoided eye contact with him. "Or, at least one friend."

"That's good," he said, reaching out and giving her a warm but awkward slap on the shoulder. "Good for you, kiddo."

She smiled and watched him lazily meander outside the store. Behind her, she heard the sound of clicks. She looked behind her shoulder and felt her breath hitch in her throat. A couple of the Jets - she wasn't sure which ones - walked down the street, their eyes flicking around and looking for things to disrupt. Behind them, she saw Riff.

"Uh, Dad?" she asked. "Don't you need a new tie? They have some inside."

Lieutenant Shrank glanced into the store and nodded. "See, now what would I do without you?"

"I'll wait out here."

She watched him disappear inside into the darkness of the store and looked back towards the Jets. They made their way through the street, and she saw one of them snatching various products from the open store fronts. They didn't even tried to hide it, just smirking at the exasperated faces of the store-owners who were probably all too used to it.

As they walked past her, she kept her head down. One of them, dark-haired and about her height, walked up and leaned against the rail.

"Hey baby," he drawled. "What you got for me?"

She stared at him, realising he probably didn't recognise her from the dance. "Nothing."

He peered into her brown bag, quickly reaching in and pulling out an orange.

"Doesn't look like nothin'," he smiled.

She glanced over to the store, where she could see her dad holding ties up to his neck. She wasn't sure if she was willing for him to come out and intervene, or stay put.