"All right, that's it—all of you, out!"
"But Doc—"
"No, I'm putting my foot down," Doc interrupted. "No more gang business in my store. I'm not helping you kids get into more trouble."
The Jets walked out of the store dejectedly, muttering to each other as they went.
"Now where are we gonna meet?" Baby John asked.
A-rab shrugged, kicking a soda can down the street.
"What about Anybody's? She's probably gotta place," Snowboy suggested.
"Then we'd have to let her join the gang," Riff countered. He was silent for a few more moments, thinking as he led the boys down the street. "We'll meet up at my place—just this once."
Laughter came from around the corner, stopping all of the Jets dead in their tracks.
"So, I guess we don't need to take your territory from you," Bernardo sneered.
"It seems like you Americans are pretty good at screwing yourselves over," Chino piped in.
"Back off, spics," Snowboy growled, standing at Riff's side, ready to go.
"Easy," Riff said, holding Snowboy back. "They're not worth it."
Bernardo scowled. "Says the one who's outnumbered," he spat as the rest of the Sharks came around the corner.
Riff was suddenly aware of the fact that it was just him, Snowboy, A-rab and Baby John. "You really wanna do this now?" He asked Bernardo, playing cool.
"Considering you don't, yes, I think we do." He answered with a sick smile, pulling out his switchblade. Chino followed suit, stepping forward and eyeing up Baby John.
"Riff, I don't think—" Baby John started to protest nervously, but he was cut off when Chino lunged at him. A-rab jumped in the way, knocking Chino to the ground with a punch in his gut. Baby John pulled out his knife, his hand visibly shaking. Snowboy was on Chino like white on rice, pinning him to the ground with a knife at his face. Bernardo joined in, going straight for Riff. A-rab and Baby John fended off the other Sharks trying to help Bernardo get a jump on Riff.
"Where are your boys now?" Bernardo taunted before punching Riff square in the jaw, then again in the eye. He was just about to really lay into him when more shouting was heard from around the corner. The Sharks froze, watching as the rest of the Jets, even Tony, came down the street. The Sharks scattered, but not before Diesel and Action caught up with a few of them. The fighting subsided fairly quickly, and Diesel and Action came over to the rest of the Jets, sporting some nasty cuts and bruises.
"Did you have to pick a fight? They were already running," Tony asked.
"Yeah, you guys look like hell," Riff added.
"You should see the damn spics," Action countered. "Besides, you don't look so great yourself."
Riff shrugged. "Come on, Doc kicked us out, so we're going to my place."
Tony raised an eyebrow.
"Just this once," Riff snarled before walking off and motioning for the boys to follow.
Riff walked into his apartment, looking around to see if the coast was clear before letting the Jets in. "Anyone home?"
"Well yeah, where else would I be?" A voice from down the hall called back.
"I know you're here, is Mom?" He asked.
"'Course not, you know she's not," the voice replied.
"Just checkin'!" Riff turned to the gang. "Alright, head on in, make yourselves at home."
The boys filed past him, looking around the apartment in awe. No one had ever been to Riff's place before. No one except Tony, that is.
Tony lingered at the door, standing next to Riff.
"What?" Riff snapped.
"Lay off, alright?" Tony said, knowing his friend was just antsy. "Do they know about—"
"Of course they don't," Riff muttered. "And I'd like to keep it that way. Can you head back and tell her to stay out of the way?"
Tony nodded before walking into the apartment and down the hall. Riff walked in and shut the door.
"Alright boys, let's get started," Riff said, walking into the living room where the Jets were hanging around. None of them questioned where Tony had gone; he was barely around these days anyways.
Tony knocked on the door at the end of the hall. "It's Tony, can I come in?" There was a muffled response from inside the room that he took as a yes. He opened the door, walked in and shut it behind him quickly.
The blue walls of the bedroom looked almost teal from the orange light the sunset was casting on them through the open window. There were books strewn all over the room, some in piles, many open on the floor and the bed, spines up on some and down on others. In the center of it all was a girl in her pajamas, looking up expectantly at Tony.
"Hey Amelia," Tony said with a smile. He tried to meet her eyes, but she would meet his. She was looking him over, checking for injuries.
"I'm fine, I didn't fight anybody," he assured her.
"Is Rich okay?" She asked, standing up and stepping over her books to get to the door.
It took Tony a moment to remember that Rich was Riff. "He'll be fine, just don't go out there, okay? The gang's out there."
"Probably covered in cuts and bruises and planning how to get more," she muttered, walking away from Tony. She piled up the books on her bed and put the pile on the floor before sitting down.
Tony sighed before sitting down on the bed with her. "Riff," he stopped when she glared at him, "Rich," he corrected, "sent me to keep you in here and away from the gang."
"I'm not a kid anymore," she said, refusing to look at Tony. "You guys don't need to protect me from guys in gangs. I'm around all of them at school, anyways. And besides, you and Rich are in the gang too, and it's okay for me to be around you guys?"
"First of all, you'll always be a kid to Rich; you're his little sister," Tony said patiently. "And second, the Jets barely go to school, and Rich probably only lets you around me cause I'm barely in the gang and we work together at Doc's."
Amelia shook her head, looking out the window. "Just let me go in the kitchen. They won't even notice I'm there."
"Why, Amelia?" Tony asked, sounding exasperated.
"I just need to see that Rich is okay," she pleaded, finally looking at Tony. Her eyes were the same grey color as her brother's, but hers shone in a way that her brother's never had and never would.
"Fine," Tony caved. "I'm going to the bathroom, don't go telling your brother I let you out, alright?"
She gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Tony."
"Don't mention it," he muttered as he left the room. She slipped out after him, tip-toeing into the kitchen. She stood behind one of their cabinets, peering around it to see into the living room. Her brother was speaking animatedly in front of the Jets. She would have smiled, because he seemed genuinely enthusiastic, but the huge bruise on his jaw and his black eye made her scowl. He'll be fine, my ass. She thought angrily. She went to the fridge and got out some ice, not caring that the boys in the living room probably heard her. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard the conversation in the living room die down.
She stomped into the living room wordlessly, ice in hand, and walked right up to her brother. She put an ice pack in each of her brother's hands and pressed one onto his eye and the other onto his jaw, probably a little harder than was necessary, before storming back into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from the Jets.
It wasn't until she was back in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water, that she heard the boys start to talk again.
"Riff, buddy, you've been holdin' out on us," Snowboy said with a sneer.
"Yeah, keepin' a doll like that all to yourself," Action said, grinning. "And in your apartment! I bet she—"
Riff's glare chilled them all to the bone. "She's my sister."
Silence filled the room. Amelia listened curiously from the kitchen.
"Gee, Riff, we didn't know you had a sister," Baby John piped up.
"I know," Riff spat. He glared down the hall as he saw Tony come out of the bathroom. "Thanks, Tony!" he shouted sarcastically.
Tony joined the gang in the living room and shrugged.
No one seemed to know what to say. Before anything else could be said, Amelia came back into the living room with more ice packs and some bandages and peroxide.
"Who else was stupid enough to get in fight?" she asked. When no one moved, she glared again. "I can see the cuts and bruises all over you boys, so who is going to be man enough to admit they could use some help?"
Most of the boys were looking at their feet, unaccustomed to being shamed like this. Finally Snowboy got up, walked over to Amelia and took an ice pack from her, muttering a 'thank-you' as he walked back to the sofa.
"Anyone else?" she asked sharply.
"Amelia," Riff said, giving her a look.
"Keep that ice on your jaw, Richard," she snapped. A-rab and Action chuckled when she used Riff's real name, earning them a piercing glare. She tossed the bottle of peroxide at A-rab and threw the box of bandages and the ice packs at Action. "Fine, help yourselves, you stupid hoodlums," she said before storming back into the kitchen.
A few moments later, Baby John spoke up. "What's her problem?"
Riff sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She's always hated the Jets," he explained. "She never liked me and Tony getting' into fights."
"Wait, Tony knew about her?" A-rab interjected. All eyes turned to Tony.
"Why do you even care?" Tony asked.
The boys broke into an argument. Tony had a good point, they had no reason to really care that Riff had a little sister, or that Tony knew about her. They were just tense about the fight from earlier and wanted something to fight about.
While everyone was bickering, Baby John sneaked into the kitchen. He stood sheepishly behind Amelia, not knowing how to get her attention and slightly afraid she would bite his head off.
"Um, excuse me, Miss?"
Amelia turned around from the food she was making, raising an eyebrow. "Yes?"
Baby John looked at his feet. "We need help with the bandages," he muttered.
"Yours look fine," Amelia said, turning back to her dinner.
"I'm okay," he said, "but I can't figure out how to do Action's and he won't do it himself and he's the one who got all banged up anyways." Baby John's voice got quieter towards the end as Amelia turned back around.
"You're Baby John, right?" She asked.
He nodded.
"Why can't you call each other by your real names?" she muttered, walking back into the living room. The boys were so busy arguing that they didn't even notice her come in and sit down beside Action. It was easy enough to figure out which one he was, since he was the one by far with the most cuts and bruises. She dipped a cotton ball into the peroxide and started to clean out some of the cuts on his arm. That's when he noticed she was there.
"I'm fine!" He growled, pulling away from her. Riff glared at Action.
"Don't yell at her, I'm the one who asked her too!" Baby John interjected fiercely. Riff raised an eyebrow, wondering where Baby John had gotten that little spark of courage from.
Amelia sat there, frozen with the cotton ball still in her hand. She held Action's gaze, waiting for him to say something as he looked between her and Baby John.
"Fine," Action finally muttered.
"What?" Amelia asked.
"I said fine!" Action snapped. When she didn't move, he sighed angrily. "Could ya help me? Please?"
Amelia nodded, going back to work with the peroxide and bandages. Action flinched when she got to a particularly deep cut.
"Ow, easy!"
"If you can't handle the pain of peroxide, then you shouldn't get in fights with knives," Amelia chastised without even looking up at him.
Action was quiet as Amelia finished cleaning and bandaging his cuts. The rest of the Jets went back to their 'war plans' eventually, ignoring Riff's sister.
"Keep some ice on that bruise on your shoulder, okay?" Amelia instructed, handing him an ice pack. She stood up and looked around the room. "Anyone else need anything?" she asked.
The boys shook their heads.
"Okay," she said before walking back to her room.
The boys were quiet again.
"Next meeting's at someone else's place," Riff said.
