Maybe

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June 10, 1957

I wake up at 5:30am and pull myself out of bed, my head pounding. It had been a week since I'd allowed Nardo to tell Manuel that he could accompany me to the dance and now, Manuel follows me around everywhere. It was sweet at first, he reminded me a bit of a lost puppy. Manuel would only walk me to and from work, but now he reminds me more of a parasite. This clingy behavior has quickly become irritating. He's began to join me to go to the market, he hangs around the florería all day, and he's also started coming around the apartment a lot more. It feels suffocating. That little window of time I had after work that was just for me has become 'Manuel Time' and I barely ever get a minute alone anymore.
However, it's also been a week since my encounter with the Jet. I don't know what happened with him, but I haven't seen him anywhere. Not that I would want to anyway, but it's still weird. Maybe the Jets were up to something, probably thinking of new ways to make my brother and his friends miserable. That thought makes me feel even more guilty for 'missing' the Jet.

I put on my slippers and shuffle across my room to grab my pink robe, wrapping it around myself before walking out into the kitchen. I glance over at Anita and Bernardo's bedroom, seeing Bernardo is still asleep in their bed, but I can hear Anita in the shower. I begin making some eggs for myself and for her, considering she almost always made breakfast for us. When she walks out of the bathroom, she's wrapped in a towel with a blue shower cap on her head. She smiles at me and sits down at the dining table, "¿Por qué estás despierta tan temprano?"

I shrug, placing a fork and a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her, "I like the quiet." I grab my own breakfast and sit down next to her. We eat in comfortable silence before I speak again, "Anita, ¿puedo preguntarte algo?"
"Claro," She nods, wiping her mouth with a napkin, "What do you want to ask me?"
I look down at my lap, fiddling with the hem of my robe, "I just wanted to ask about the Jets."
She quirks a brow at me, "The Jets? Why do you want to know about the Jets?"
I look up at her, stilling my hands, "I'm just curious. Nardo never tells me anything and I don't think it's safe to be so clueless about everything going on around me."
Anita sighs, "I know as much as you do, nena."
I know she's lying and give her a pleading look, "No me mientes, Anita, por favor. Just tell me anything!"
She puts her fork down again and points a finger at me warningly, "Fine. But you don't tell your brother I told you." I nod eagerly, making her purse her lips, "Well, you know they're the reason Bernardo is always stressed," She says softly, I nod. "And to put it simply, Y/N, they're destructive little gringos who think they own the streets. They terrorize Puerto Ricans day after day because they think we don't belong here. Or rather, they think we don't deserve to be here in their glorious country." I swallow hard, guilt weighing on my chest. Anita takes her shower cap off and begins touching up her hair, "Anything else you want to know?"

I nod, "Do you know any of their names?" I ask, trying to sound casual about it.
Anita huffs softly, "Why do you want to know their names? Do their names matter? They're all the same anyway." I purse my lips and Anita raises her hands in surrender, "Ok, ok, no te pongas de malas. Well, there's, eh... Riff, the leader. Obviamente." I pinch my brows at her words, clearly it wasn't that obvious to me. I've heard Bernardo say that name multiple times, but the leader of the Jets was still faceless to me. Anita continues, counting them off on her fingers, "The... ¿como se dice? Ah, the second in command is Ice. Hm... the youngest is Baby John, the buff one is Diesel... Ay, there's too many to count, but you get it." I wondered which of those names might have belonged to the Jet I've met or if she even mentioned him. Anita gives me a tight lipped smile, "Now are we done here?"

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