The Celts (West Side Story: Riff X Reader)

Chapter 12

(Hi, sorry it's been awhile! My school just started up again and I just through a breakup like last weekend—you all deserve someone who remembers your favorite color and stuff lol—so I've been a little busy. I think this chapter came out pretty great, so enjoy!)

In a matter of about twenty minutes, me and all the detained Jets were sitting back in the main room of the police station, this time with a pair of handcuffs per street rat. Declan was in his own seat towards the front of the station, brown eyes staring holes into the wooden floor. He looked up when Officer Krupke and another lieutenant approached him and began talking to him. Declan looked truly troubled; ghastly, as though he hadn't eaten or slept in days. After Krupke finished speaking, Declan nodded once. Krupke and the other lieutenant stepped back and spoke up.

"Who killed Ronan Dameski?" Krupke asked Declan, who's eyes were trained on Riff. Riff upheld his firm eye-contact until Declan switched his gaze over to me. I shook my head, hoping to make him think that I didn't want to go to jail.

"Elizabeth Byrne killed Ronan." Declan said without looking away from me. Krupke nodded solemnly and stood me up. 

"She has a right to trial by jury." Baby John said quickly, sitting up with indignant posture. "You gotta put her in front of a judge."

"She already pleaded guilty." Krupke said to the guys that were sitting before me. Riff looked shocked, an expression which soon faded into a crestfallen look of what seemed to be betrayal, but there was no way for me to know because he looked away and did not look back until I was removed from the room and placed into an outdoor jail cell with a girl with wispy, jet black hair and dark brown eyes. Her pale face was dotted with freckles and her cheek was donning a long, white scar. 

"Hi, I'm Andrea Lorton." She said, looking over at me.

"Liza." I said, sitting down on the opposite side of the cell. "You look really young. Why are you here?"

"I think I was framed." She said.

"You think you were framed?" 

"Yeah, it was this whole thing." Andrea said as she fiddled with a little stick. "I set a guy's house on fire and it killed his cat, but it was only because his son told me that his wood sidings turned purple in heat, so I held a match up to it so see. He had doused it in gasoline and I had no idea. I was nine and he was twelve."

"So, you've been here for quite awhile." I said.

"It's only been like five years." Andrea shrugged. "Why are you in here?"

"I was part of one of those street gangs." I told her.

"Yeah, I know that part." She said. "The only Irish kids in this city are a part of the Celts. Your accent gave you away."

I nodded. "Anyway, the Celts and Jets got in a huge fight and one of the Jets killed the leader of the Celts, and I took the fall."

"Why?" She asked, finally turning to look at me.

"When Ronan died, the Celts were disbanded. If the leader of the Jets went behind bars, then Manhattan would be so overrun with homeless kids and young adults."

"Riff killed Ronan?" Andrea gasped in disbelief. 

"You know Riff?" I asked.

"Yeah, he's my brother." She nodded. "He showed up to my trial, but they didn't take his word because he's in a gang and they wouldn't ever tell him where I am."

"He's going to be here later tonight, I think." I said.

"How do you know?" Andrea asked.

"Well, he knows that I took the blame for him, and he doesn't want any Jet—"

"Aren't you a Celt?"

"I was both." I said. "Anyway, he doesn't want any Jet taking the fall for him. So, if I had to guess, he's going to be here tonight and try to get us both out."

"Let's hope so." Andrea said.