The Celts (West Side Story: Riff X Reader)

Chapter 17

(You guys, I have been in the fattest writer's block for legit every story I'm working on. Anyway, I just became a senior in high-school, so that's pretty cool)

The brawl ended with no particular winner. After about twenty minutes of fighting, the police broke it up. Krupke, instead of taking me back to the cell that Andrea and I had escaped from, shot me a very foul look. A-Rod noticed and pulled me into hiding. All of the Jets, Newsies, Sharks, and miscellaneous split in their separate directions. 

The next night, after keeping to back-alleys and avoiding most people, Riff finally rallied the Jets in a salt shed. 

"Listen, fellas," he said, standing on a high box and looking at the Jets. I was standing next to Mouthpiece and Baby John. "I talked to Schrank and Krupke. They's thinking it might be a good idea to organize another Dog Days dance. They think it's gonna be good to see how far we've come since the last dance. Y'know, track the progress."

"Progress." Grizie scoffed.

"Anyway," Riff said, shooting her a pointed glance. "It's tomorrow night and we all gotta go. Bernardo's getting his Sharks together and Jack is taking his Newsies too." 

"Great." Mouthpiece said. "Maybe we had enough trouble with the Irish kids for one week."

"It's a social mixer." Jet said to him, still looking around at us. "So, we'll mix until the time is right to fix the rumble from yesterday."

"You can't fix the rumble at the gym, the place'll be lousy with cops!" Baby John said, mouth slightly agape. 

"Hey, relax." Riff said. "We got all our guys going to that mixer, ain't nothing gonna go their way tomorrow night." 

That night, I found myself at the fire escape of the old, abandoned apartments. The remaining Celts had found a new locale, which I wasn't sure of. 

About forty minutes after the sun had set, I sat on the cold metal of my old fire escape, legs dangling into the short abyss that would only lead to the cold concrete below. My thoughts drifted back to my younger sister, who was very likely in New Jersey by now. Since arriving to New York, Nettie had admired the lifestyle of Newsies, so I could guess that she had adopted the idea in Jersey. She would probably have better conditions as a New Jersey Newsie than she would as a New York Celt. 

"Liza!" A voice called from the street below the building. I looked down and squinted against the darkness. Hidden in the shadows was Riff with a very small bouquet of flowers, staring up at me with wide eyes. "Hey, Liza! You wanna go to the Dog Days dance with me tomorrow night?"

"I'd love to." I said, peering over the metal railing to look at him. He beamed and started climbing up to sit with me. The flowers in his hand rustled as he got up. "Did you steal flowers for me?"

"No." Riff said, heaving himself up to my side, standing next to me. "I'm not an animal. I bought them." 

"Thank you." I smiled. Riff tore his greenish gaze from the dark depths of the street and looked at me warmly. 

"Hey, you know who doesn't have a beautiful girl on his arm?" He asked, humor creeping over his typically serious face. I nodded for him to finish the question. "Your buddy Clanner."

"Declan couldn't pull a girl even if he tried." I said with a grin. Riff laughed and looked around as if to assure himself that Clanner hadn't been hiding and listening, which was not happening. Then, swiftly, he gently wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him until hour faces were hardly an inch apart. Riff then slowly kissed me, his arm tightening around me as the duration stretched. After only a second, he pulled his face away from mine and loosened his grip. 

Lips parted and pupils dilated to the point of his typically greenish eyes appearing almost black, he spoke in a soft voice, "I'll see you tomorrow night, Liza."