A New Way of Living

Chapter Nineteen

Author's Note: I do not own West Side Story or any elements of it.

Riff stood outside the building where he knew Vivienne went to school.

He knew because, on more than one occasion, he had asked a Jet to trail her home after a late class. He had told himself it wasn't because he cared that much. It was just that it would be a pain in the ass to find another nursing student to get on their side. Yeah, that was it.

The building looked big to him. Which was strange, since everything else on the west side looked so small. Like he could hold it in the palm of his hand. But this was different. 

He took in a breath and walked inside, his hand tense by his side as he did. The halls were clean, grand, and far different to any type of school he had been used to in his short academic career. 

As he walked past a group of kids, probably his age, he found himself ducking his head down. Still, it did little to stop their stares. Their conversations halted at the sight of this dishevelled guy, skulking down their halls and very obviously not belonging. 

When he heard them giggling at him, he swallowed down his annoyance. He knew then he didn't belong there, and everyone knew it. How could he ever belong somewhere like this?

He wandered around aimlessly for a while, not quite sure where to start. He only had half a plan, really. Getting here was the first part.

After a while, someone took notice of him and followed him a few feet. He turned around to see an older looking gentleman with greying hair and a beard staring after him, curious. 

"Can I help you?" the man asked.

"Not really," Riff said.

"Well, I can tell you're not a student here. Are you looking for someone."

Riff turned around then, letting out something that sounded between a sigh and a grunt.

"Yeah. I guess. I wanna speak to someone about Vivienne..." He realised then that he didn't even know her last name. He just knew her by her name. Her voice. Her eyes. But that probably wouldn't get him very far here.

But it seemed to trigger something in the man - a recognition.

"Vivienne Harris?" he asked.

Riff repeated the name back to himself in his head like a prayer.

"I guess. She's a nursing student here." 

"I know her. She's in my class."

Riff clapped his hands together, feeling like he was getting somewhere.

"Great. I need ta talk to you 'bout her. Her results on her test. Look, she--"

"Maybe we should talk in my office," the man said, stepping aside and pointing to the door of an open classroom.

Riff, for some reason, felt a very strong desire not to go in there. But he came here for a reason, so he was willing to play ball. 

He followed the man inside and looked around the large lecture hall. Large windows cast in light, highlighting the dust that floated through the air and settled on the desks that spanned the room. He tried to imagine himself in that room, but he couldn't. It was an image that wasn't possible to picture in his head. 

Annoyingly, it caused a tiny stir of sadness inside him.

The man seemed to catch something on Riff's face.