TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE RUMBLE

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Action checked his surroundings to make sure none of his classmates--or Mr. Dawtron--were watching him. He grabbed his lab partner's frog, which was yet to be dissected...his lab partner didn't notice, for he was too busy staring dreamily at Graziella. Grinning, Action slipped the dead frog into Mimi Flats's handbag while she was talking to her lab partner. He folded his hands on the dissecting table, and pretended that nothing happened. He realized that Baby John had been watching him the whole time. He gave Action a satisfied grin when Mimi opened her handbag and rummaged for her compact mirror. Her eye twitched, and she lifted the dead frog from her purse and shrieked like a banshee, then threw the frog into the air. It landed right on Mr. Dawtron's bald head. The girls gave one another looks of disgust, while the boys--most of them being Jets--broke out into laughter. Mr. Dawtron looked at them all like a cheetah would look at a gazelle, then shook his head and threw the frog into the wastebin. Then the guffawing was interrupted by the loud bell signaling lunch. Everyone dashed out of the room. Mimi ran into the girls' bathroom shaking her hands spasmodically.

At lunch, the Jets took their normal seats--under the bleachers by the track course. They all pulled canteens out of their pockets--obviouslly, the canteens were filled with alchahol. Graziella, Velma and Minnie were perched next to their boyfriends, chatting away.

Ice gave Action a hard slap on the back. "Nice goin' there, boy! He didn't even know it was you."
"Or he would've erupted like Mt. St. Helen's!" Mouthpiece laughed.

"That little brat got what she's been deservin'!" Velma giggled, wiping a blade of grass off her skirt.

"There's someone else in that class that needs to be tormented." Graziella muttered. Riff turned his attention from his hamburger to her. "Who?" he inquired.

"That Kenneth kid. He keeps droolin' over me and eye-buggin' me." Graziella huffed, twirling her fork between her fingers.

"Ya mean the nerd with the Elvis 'do?" Snowboy asked. Action scoffed. "He's my lab partner. Kenny-boy's the only reason I ain't failin that class."

"Well, he don't know who he's messing with." Riff growled, balling his hands into fists.

"Riff. Cool it. You've got no time to deal with nerds, since you and the Sharks won't stop fighting."

Everyone looked in the direction of the voice. It was Tony. He sat down with the rest of the gang.

"What're you doing here? You don't belong no more!" Action cried.

"Easy." Ice said warningly.

"He's my best bud, and you guys know it. Womb to tomb?" Riff said, thrusting his hand out to Tony, who shook it and replied, "Sperm to worm!"

"Hey, speaking of the PRs, look over there." A-Rab muttered, pointing out towards the courtyard. A short, thin Puerto Rican girl was leaning against the fence that surrounded the school, with a dizzy smile on her face. She had beautiful eyes and raven hair, and was wearing a slimming polka-dot dress.

"Isn't that Bernardo's sister?" Minnie asked, eyeing her dress distastefully.

"Sure is. What's her name again?" Ice replied.

"It's Maria, I think." Graziella quipped. Tony was about to look at Maria, when Chino ran around the corner and beckoned her towards him. She ran over, they kissed briefly, then went back inside the cafeteria.

"I didn't...get to see her." Tony said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Ya ain't missin much, Tony. Ugh, did you see her dress? How wretched." Graziella exclaimed.

"She looked like Glinda with that perky smile." Velma agreed.

"And that dress reminds me of good ol' Granny." Baby John chimed in.

"Hey! Boys, boys, just because she's a PR doesn't mean you have to insult her...fashion." Ice said defensively.

The girls looked at each other and scoffed. "Poo. She oughta be jealous." Graziella said, flipping her scarlett hair.

The bell rang. Lunch was over, and the gang split up to go to their next class. Riff and Tony went to Literature, Ice, Action and Baby John headed to the gym, and the girls all went to art class.

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Maria knew that the American kids under the bleachers were looking at her. In a bad way. They loathed her...pure hatred. If I were American, and if I weren't Nardo's sister, I bet they'd feel much different about me. Lousy Jets and their girlfriends. She thought with a sigh. Although, despite the feeling of depression in her gut, Maria was happy. For she was in the best place at school...English class. Being Puerto Rican, and since she had only moved to New York City a week ago, Maria spoke fluent Spanish, but not much English.

"Buenas tardes, los estudiantes. Presumo que ustedes tuvieron un almuerzo de pleasent." The teacher said.

"Sí." the students replied.

Maria tried to remember the faces of the Jets. There was the leader...buff and inquiring...then that Ice boy, with his brooding, angry stare...the redheaded girl that always walked like a model...and there was one boy that she didn't quite catch a glimpse of. She knew he had jet-black hair and a kind smile, but she didn't get to absorb his looks. She half-shrugged, and rested her chin on her hands and waited for school to end.