A New Way of Living

Chapter Nine

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."