A New Way of Living

Chapter Sixteen

Author's Note: I do not own West Side Story.

*This chapter does contain scenes of some violence and threat of sexual violence, so may not be suitable for everyone.

Vivienne sat on the stoop of her building the next day. It was cold, but the only trembling that was coming from her fingertips was rage.

Since the night before, when she had encountered her first real clash with the Jets and Riff, she hadn't been able to settle down.

Granted, not all of them had fought against her, but they sure hadn't helped.

Riff on the other hand was a whole different story. For some reason, she felt unfathomably betrayed. She wasn't even sure why. They hadn't exactly got off on the right foot anyhow, and at most they had, perhaps wrongly, allowed themselves to give in to their desires, but that didn't mean anything. How could it mean anything? Not when they were so different and seemed like they were both destined to be alone.

In that sense, perhaps the breakdown suited them perfectly. The fallout of all the false warmth and impossible friendships built over the past few months. It never could have worked.

Despite this, sitting inside her, along with the rage and sadness and defeat, there was also something that felt like guilt. But how could she be guilty? In her mind she had done nothing wrong.

Whenever the guilt seemed too strong, she reminded herself of Riff's harsh words. His inability to grasp the real issue and get a footing on the reality that deeply effected her. Not everything was settled of the streets on the west side through fists and territory. Some things were bigger than that, and she knew that was something that Riff would likely never see.

As she sat on the stoop, quietly shivering and pacing her own mind, she spotted a familiar figure at the end of the street.

She realised who it was and had an idea. A way to get her own back at Riff and release some of her bitterness and swirling anger. Before she could stop herself, she rose from her seat and jogged over.

When she reached the young man from her class, she tried her best to sound friendly given the circumstances.

"Hey, Michael, right?" she asked, tapping on his shoulder as he stopped outside the general store to look at the morning papers.

He spun around and looked surprised to see her.

"Hi. Yeah. How are you?"

"Fine. You?"

"Can't complain."

"Good." She bit her lip and tried to remember how this was usually done. "I wanted to take you up on your offer of a coffee."

He looked taken back, as if he never thought she would respond to him.

"Really? When?"

"Tonight?"

"Sounds great. I'll meet you here at eight?"

"Perfect."

He gave her a smile, before turning and walking off. She stood for a moment, feeling smug in herself that she managed to secure herself an activity that didn't involve Riff or the Jets. Even so, when she turned and began walking back to her apartment, she wondered why she didn't feel all that good about it.

Later that night, she found herself in the coffee shop with Michael. She nodded and smiled politely enough, laughing at his jokes and listening to his stories. But even she had to admit that something was missing.

It's just unusual, she told herself. It's been a while since you've been with anyone normal. Give it a chance.

To spur herself on, she tried to force herself to remember Riff's words and their heated exchange. Perhaps this was her way out of it. Perhaps finding a nice guy would be enough incentive for Riff to leave her alone and let her get on with whatever was left of her life.