Author's Note: The idea for this little story popped into my head a couple weeks ago, but as I've been very busy with Hell Week for a production of Oliver I'm in, I didn't get a chance to really work on it very much. Now that my show is sadly coming towards an end, however, I finally managed to finish it. I'm not sure if it's as good as I'd intended it to be, but I haven't written anything in a while, so I thought I'd post it. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: As sad as it makes me, I do not own West Side Story or any of the characters mentioned. Bernice, Clarice's twin sister, and anything else not recognizable from the movie belongs to the brilliant LCV Productions.

Dedication: This story is for some very special ladies that I know: viennacantabile, HedgehogQuill (the author formerly known as LazyChestnut), and Megfly. Without them I certainly never would have been able to publish any of this. I love you, guys!

Something There

"Oh, baby!" Graziella giggled, sighing as she relaxed her back against her soft, pink pillows. "We ain't never done anythin' that good before!" she exclaimed ecstatically.

Riff, the redhead's boyfriend of almost two months, smirked. "I'm just full-a surprises, ain't I?"

"Oh, you are, baby, you are!" Graziella squealed, grabbing his face and bringing his lips back down on top of hers. She had to admit that she was still a bit turned on. It wasn't as if Riff was the first boy she'd ever been with. Hell, it wasn't even as if it was their first time together. But something was definitely different about tonight, and Graziella had a feeling she knew just what it was. Her guy was a Jet, you see; a member of the best gang in the whole West Side. And on this particular night they'd had a rumble with the Hawks. She certainly knew what rumbles were about and she even knew how the guys fighting them got afterwards. But never could she have imagined that a rumble could make Riff Lorton make her feel the way she had tonight.

Riff's hands were just beginning to roam a little way down past her hips and his lips were just moving towards her neck when Graziella gasped, "I love you!" And she did. She'd never said it before, but there it was. And to her, no truer words had ever been spoken. She could feel her boyfriend freeze above her, saying nothing for a moment. Then he seemed to relax.

"Okay, babe," was what he said, leaning in to kiss her once more.

Graziella, immediately put off, pushed him away from her slightly. "Okay?"

An impatient Riff, staring down at his girlfriend's scantily clad body, had to work hard to keep from rolling his eyes. God, but he wanted her right now and he most definitely did not want to deal with this. "That's what I said," he told her, pressing her closer to himself and going in to kiss her again.

Graziella swatted him away this time, her indignation growing. "Well ain't ya gonna say it back?" she demanded.

"Say what back?" Riff groaned, his mind on something else entirely.

"That you love me, stupid!"

"But, I…." Riff was cornered and he knew it. He couldn't say he loved her. The words would be fake and she would know it as well as he would. Then again, if he didn't say it….

Graziella's face turned almost as red as her hair, which was really saying something. "Ya don't, do ya?" she screeched. "Fer two months I let ya fuck me an' ya don't even love me?!" The redhead's voice was growing increasingly louder.

"Graz, baby!" Riff said, trying to quiet her down. "I didn' say I didn' love ya," he said, trying to stall.

"But ya didn' say ya did either, now did ya? An' don't you 'Graz, baby' me!" she cried, pushing him off her and jumping out of bed. Reaching for her robe, she screamed, "You get outta here right now! I don't ever wanna see you ever again!"

"But, babe!" Riff retorts in shock. "Ya—ya can't just leave me like this!"

"Watch me," Graziella snapped. She walked towards her window, opened it wide, and then proceeded to toss all of her boyfriend's clothes out onto the fire escape.

Riff's eyes widened. "Graziella, ya can't be serious!"

"Bye!" the redhead replied, pointing towards the open window. She crossed her arms and turned her back as Riff was forced to change on the fire escape. She was sure the neighbors would see and knew they would most definitely talk, but she didn't give a crap. Once she heard the familiar clambering of steps down the escape disappear, she turned and shut the window firmly. It was only then that she allowed herself to fall back onto her bed, weeping.

"I got it!" Bernice Gambini announced the second she heard the phone ring. She was sort of hoping it would be Tony wanting to get, well together, after the rumble, but it wasn't like she was counting on it or anything. "Hello?" she purred as soon as she picked up. Just in case.

"Bernice, I-I-I, h-h-he d-d…" Graziella's sobs were the first thing that greeted Bernice's ears. Oh, God. Rolling her eyes, she called to her sister. "Clarice! Phone's fer you!"

A moment later, her twin came out of their bedroom, fluffing her black locks and looking thoroughly annoyed. She was getting ready to meet Big Deal after all. "What?" she demanded, straightening her skirt.

"Graziella," Bernice mouthed, handing her sister the phone, from which the redhead's crying could still be heard. She made a slicing motion across her throat and sauntered back towards her room.

Clarice sighed and put the phone to her ear. "Graz?" she asked carefully.

"Oh, Clarice!" Graziella wept, at least able to form coherent words now. "It was horrible!"

"What was, hon?" Clarice wondered distractedly, meticulously checking her reflection in the hall mirror.

"I-I told Riff I loved him an' he didn' say anythin'!" Graziella wailed.

That snapped her friend back into attention. "What? Dio Mio, Graz, that's terrible! Well what did happen? Tell me everythin'!"

On the other end, Graziella sniffed. "Well I told him I loved him an' then he said 'Okay.' An' when I asked him if he was gonna say it back, he didn' say anythin'!" She began to cry again.

Clarice gasped. "Oh, hon, I'm so sorry!" she said sincerely.

"So then I threw his clothes out onto the fire escape an' told him I don't ever wanna see him again." Clarice could practically hear Graziella pouting.

Stifling a fit of giggles, Clarice replied, "I bet that'll show him."

"Yeah, but what if it doesn't, Clarice? What if it's really over now?" the redhead asked worriedly.

Clarice bit her lip. She had no idea what she could say at this point to make her friend feel any better. "I'm—I'm sure it'll be fine, Graz. Really." Even though it wasn't strictly the truth, it wasn't a lie either.

Graziella sighed. "Thanks, Clarice."

"Any time, Graz," Clarice told her friend. "Why don't ya get some sleep? I'll see ya at school, okay?"

"Right. Night, Clarice. Thanks again," Graziella said before hanging up. An idea suddenly hitting her, she began rummaging through her closet and pulled out her newest skirt, green in color, and a white sleeveless top that easily showed off her ample chest. "School, huh?" she mused. "Well if Riff don't love me, I'll just find a boy who does," she decided. And in that outfit, what boy would be able to resist her? With that plan in mind, she fell into an unhappy sleep.

"Graziella, ya look gorgeous!" Clarice exclaimed when she met her friend outside their school's red brick building the next morning. Much better than I woulda figured after last night, she left unsaid.

"Cute skirt," Bernice added approvingly, lighting a cigarette she'd pulled from her clutch. She ignored her sister's disapproving look.

"Oh, this old thing?" Graziella said loudly enough that the Jets congregated near by could hear every word she was saying. "I just threw it on this morning." The twins exchanged dubious glances.

"Don't be silly, Graziella," came a voice from behind the trio of girls. "I was with ya when ya bought it last week." Pauline Marcus, another girl closely associated to the Jets, came strutting over, throwing a few flirtatious smiles over towards the boys, several of whom, particularly Action, were snickering at Graziella's reddened complexion. Riff looked torn between annoyance and sympathy for his girl, or at least the chick who'd once been his girl.

"Ya must be wrong, Pauline," Clarice immediately jumped to her friend's defense. "I've seen Graz in that skirt a bunch of times." The redhead shot the girl an appreciative smile.

Pauline pursed her lips in irritation. "Whatever. Got another one-a those?" she asked, turning towards Bernice. The other Gambini twin pulled out another cigarette and handed it to the girl, along with her lighter. As soon as the two were heavily involved in a conversation about the newest lingerie at Madame Mouchoir's Boudoir, Graziella turned to Clarice, twisting her hands nervously.

"Clarice, what am I gonna do? Riff's barely looked over here twice!" she whispered, so as not to alert Pauline something was up. Boy, would she have a field day with that.

Clarice shot a furtive glance towards the Jets and was troubled to see that Graziella was indeed right. They appeared much too wrapped up in some sort of conversation. Even Big Deal had barely given her more than a smile. "Oh, well, it looks like they're just busy right now," she said lamely.

"Busy my ass!" Graziella retorted heatedly. "Fine. If he don't want me no more, then I don't want him. There are plenty-a fish in the sea, right?" She fluffed her red hair and pointed towards a group of handsome, if not somewhat preppy boys near the basketball courts. "Like them."

"Um, Graz?" Clarice asked uncertainly. "What are ya thinkin'?"

"I ain't gonna stand here like an idiot waitin' on him, Clarice," Graziella explained self-righteously. "So let's see how he likes this." With that she sauntered off, hand on hip, towards the group she'd pointed at.

"Graz, no! Don't!" Clarice whisper-shouted. She couldn't shake the feeling that Graziella's plan was about to blow up in her face.

"Where's she goin'?" Bernice wondered, taking a drag on her cigarette.

Pauline smirked. "Did I miss a little trouble between her an' Riffy-poo," she asked, poking fun at Graziella's nickname for the Jet.

"No," Clarice replied uncomfortably. "She's just goin' over ta, uh, say hi."

"Right," Pauline laughed knowingly. She, Bernice, and Clarice all turned to see what their friend was going to do.

As soon as Graziella came within five feet of the boys, the catcalling began. 'Hey, baby!' 'Why don't ya come over here an' make my dreams come true?' and, of course, the ever popular whistling.

"Who, me?" the redhead feigned innocence, batting her eyelashes at them.

"Oh, I hope she knows what she's doin'," Clarice muttered.

"Yeah, you," said the tallest of the boys, who appeared to be in charge of the group. He walked towards Graziella, who giggled flirtatiously, and was quick to cop a feel. And that's when it happened. Graziella felt herself being pulled from the boy's grasp and could hear as opposed to see a fist connecting with someone's jaw. Gasping, she turned to see none other than Riff, force-feeding cement into the kid's mouth.

"Now, am I ever gonna see ya touchin' her again?" he growled, twisting the kid's arm behind him.

"No, I swear! No!" the panicked kid was saying. Or at least that's what Graziella thought she heard. It was hard to tell through the cement, after all.

"Or talkin' ta her or lookin' at her?" Riff demanded furiously.

"No! C'mon, please just lemme go!" After a moment, Riff obliged. The kid and his friends, all of whom looked about ready to go running home to their mothers, took off.

Rising, Riff straightened his jacket and turned to look at a wide-eyed Graziella. "An' I better never see you talkin' ta him," he ordered defensively.

"Oh, Riffy-poo!" Graziella cried, flinging herself at him. "I knew it! You were jealous, weren't ya?" she exclaimed, planting kisses all over his face.

Riff chuckled quietly, setting Graziella down on the ground, but letting his hands hang around her waist. "Yeah, babe, I guess I was," he admitted, surprising even himself.

"Oh, I knew it, I knew it! An' ya know why, don't ya?" the redhead went on seriously, rocking back and forth on her heels.

"Why?" Riff asked, amused by his girlfriend's reactions.

"'Cause ya love me, silly! I always knew ya did!" Graziella practically sang, wrapping her slender arms around his neck and planting a kiss on the tip of his nose.

Riff smiled. "Whatever ya say, babe." This time, she didn't argue. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder, sighing happily. "An' I love you. It's perfect." Then and there, the night before was forgotten. The fight was over and they were together, and that was all that really mattered to Graziella anyway.

Wrapping his arms around his girl, Riff enjoyed the comfortable silence. He didn't think he loved her. He wasn't sure if he would ever really be able to love her. But there was definitely something there; something that had made him feel guilty about leaving her the way he had the night before; something that made him want to run over and kiss her the minute he saw her standing there; something that had made him ready to kill that preppy for laying a single dirty finger on her. And that was certainly, well, something; something, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, that he wouldn't give up on in a million years.

end.