More Than A Degenerate (Riff X Character)

Chapter 4

The rest of the week seems to drag on. As it grows closer and closer to Saturday, you begin to feel like you're walking on air. Soon, you'll be out with Priscilla. Together, you'll escape from your daily responsibilities and enjoy yourselves.

Yet, your mouth goes dry every time you think about asking your mother for permission to go. Even when it's just you and her alone, you can't seem to work up the courage to ask.

You've been trying all week. You tried to ask once while you were eating supper. You accomplished at least mentioning it in passing while you helped get your siblings ready for bed.

But it wasn't enough to get the hint across.

Now it's finally Saturday. And you can't push it back any longer.

"Mom." You say. Your hands are already feeling sweaty. "Can I ask you something?"

Her head tips upward from the laundry that she's folding. "Of course."

You take a deep breath as you smooth out one of Danny's shirts, hoping to seem nonchalant. "You know about that dance happening tonight, right?"

"Yes." She replies with a soft laugh.

Her gentle nature relaxes you, making it easier to ask than you were anticipating. "Well, I was wondering if I could attend the dance." You say. When she doesn't immediately reply, you give a quick shrug. "I understand if you don't want me to. I was just asking." You stutter.

Your mother gives you a light smile. "I have no issue with you going to a dance." She says and you feel the anxiety releasing from your chest. It has been building up for the past week and now it's like you can finally breathe. "You're young and you should have fun!"

You're about to pull her into the tightest hug possible and rapidly list off every reason why she's the best mother on earth, but she gets that look.

The look that means she has bad news.

"However." She adds.

Your heart stops and you freeze in place. You watch her gaze fall from yours as she busies herself back into the laundry.

Her wrists quickly snap one of the bedsheets, shaking out the wrinkles before she lays it flat on the table. "George said that there were going to be dangerous boys there. And I don't want you getting yourself involved in that mess."

"I'm not going to get involved with them." You quickly promise. You blink and fumble for words, hoping you'll be able to say something to change her mind. "Those boys are nothing but a nuisance. Delinquents. Degenerates!"

Your mother remains firm so you step forward. You're practically begging on your knees now, praying she'll believe you. "All I want is a chance to go out and be with my friends. Do something outside of this apartment building. Outside of the market."

Your mother's eyebrow arches. She looks you up and down before turning away and you know that you've lost. "And you can. Just not tonight. Not a dance that is going to be swarming with troublesome boys."

You scoff in disbelief.

Why is she crushing you like this? How can she approve of the dance and then tell you that you're not allowed to go tonight because of the Jets?

You lock your jaw and drop your eyes. You want to tell her that you're living in West Side now. These boys are going to be at every dance. It doesn't matter if it's tonight or in the next twenty years.

Keeping you cooped up and away from them won't protect you from the damages they cause.

"I know it seems unfair." Your mother suddenly says. She's refusing to look at you anymore, keeping her gaze on her work. "But you'll understand when you have kids of your own. I just want to keep you safe."