#Maria (West side story) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sl-newsie · 10 months ago

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A Clean Slate (Balkan x OC)

I also have a request. Balkan x OC. Idc what happens in it, I just need him!

Another sunny day. Too bad I have to spend it working indoors.

“God I hate this place,” Rita groans from across the shop. “I can’t wait to get outta here!”

“Calm down, mi querida!” Valentina assures her. “You may not like it here, but some of us had to work hard to get here!”

My coworker goes on complaining while I zone out and scrub the counter. Rita’s always complaining because of her position in the Jet gang. Apparently the Jets are a big deal, but I’ve never personally met them because I just moved from Brooklyn. My father’s in the police force and he transferred to the West Side, which meant I had to wipe a clean slate and start over with making friends. Turns out the goils of the West Side ain’t so friendly and instead of being social I’ve decided on keeping a steady job during summer vacation. Doc’s is the perfect place because Valentina needs all the help she can get.

I hear the door bangs open and a man wearing jeans and a white tank top steps in.

“Ey, Rita! Ya done woirk’n yet? We’s got business in ‘Hattan to deal with!”

“Alright, alright.” Rita follows the brute out, strangely looking more bored than before.

Time slips by, only providing us with a few customers, and before I know it it’s already 5:30.

“Time to clock out, Lottie.” Valentina walks out from the back room holding the keys. “Don’t worry about the clean up. Tony’s stopping by to mop. Buenas noches!”

“Good night, Valentina.” I grab my purse and head into the cool summer night. The sun hasn’t set yet and a gorgeous collage of orange and pink spreads across the sky. I clutch my purse close and begin the walk home-

“Hey! Runaway coin!”

The clinking sound of metal draws my attention to a silver-colored coin rolling down the sidewalk. It nearly reaches the sewer until I step on it with my blue heel.

“Much obliged, doll!” A man jogs up from behind and kneels down to look for his coin. “Um, where’d it go?”

“Oh, sorry.” I lift up my foot to reveal the gleaming coin. “Here it is.”

The man keeps his face down as he retrieves his possession. What I don’t expect is for him to lean down to kiss my foot.

“Excuse me?” I jerk away. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Now the man stands up and I can see him. He’s wearing an olive-green shirt with the sleeves rolled up under a blue vest, along with dark jeans and sneakers. At first I think he’s too bizarre to trust, however the thankful expression on his face makes me reconsider.

“Sorry, doll. ‘S just that this coin means everything to me. Guess I overreacted.” He holds out a hand and we both shake, causing my heart to respond by racing much too fast than I’d like it to.

“You ain’t from here, are ya? I’d remember you if you were.”

I shyly shake my head and fidget with my purse. “No, I just moved from Brooklyn.”

“Brooklyn, eh? Well then let me be gentlemanly enough to officially welcome you to the West Side!” He gives me a quick salut. “Name’s Balkan, from the Jets.”

My breath catches and I step away. “Jets? That’s the gang everyone talks about. I heard some people were almost killed in a fight last month.”

Balkan pockets his coin and holds up a steady hand, eyeing me with a calm demeanor.

“Yeah, there were a few close calls. But that was before the peace agreement. You got nothing to worry about.”

I want to believe him, but my father’s teachings are spinning through my head.

“My father’s a police officer. If you do anything to me, he will find you.”

There’s a noticeable spark in Balkan’s eyes, something that imitates fear. But it only lasts a split-second. He steps a few feet back and holds his hands out for me to see.

“I’m unarmed, I swear. I don’t want you to feel unsafe. What’s your name?”

He knows his law procedures. This is how dad says criminals are supposed to stand when they’re arrested. Has he ever been arrested? Calm down, Lottie. He asked a decent question.

“I’m Lottie.” My voice shakes a little. “Nice to meet you, Balkan.”

Balkan nods respectfully. “That’s a pretty name. If you want you can call me Marcus. That’s my real name, Marcus Jackson.”

I’ll have dad run a background check on him later.

“Since you’re new, would you want me to show you around?”

Keep calm, relax. He’s just being friendly.

“Um, maybe some other time? During the day?”

It’s strange how Balkan isn’t getting annoyed by my paranoid behavior. He’s been nothing but respectful, which is something I don’t expect from a gang member.

“I get that. Is your home nearby? I wanna make sure you get there safely.”

I inch further away towards the direction of home. “I’d rather not have you know where I live, if you don’t mind. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Taking a deep breath, I swiftly walk past the now-stuttering Jet.

“What’s it gonna take for you to trust me?”

I keep walking. “In Brooklyn I learned to trust nobody. People are disappointing, they will take what they want and spread lies when they’re through with you.”

Now Balkan is walking to keep up. “I’m sorry that happened, but not everyone is like that. It doesn’t have to be too serious. I’ll start.” He clears his throat. “Hello, my name is Marcus. I come from a broken family because my own father left when I was 5. I met the Jet leaders Tony and Riff a few years ago, and since then I've become one-a the Jets’ best fighters. I know that sounds whacky to you, but to me the Jets are my family.”

His sad background sounds like lots of the cases dad talks about at home. He says delinquents are unpredictable. But this is the first time I’ve heard the other side of the story.

I stop walking and look at Marcus with a different perspective. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that. We both have conflicted pasts, but that shouldn’t define the future. Would you, um, still be willing to walk me home?”

Dad’s going to kill me.

Marcus grins in delight and offers an arm. More gentleman than delinquent. “I’d luv to, Lottie.”

I take his arm and we resume walking. Another trait that surprises me is his smell. It’s mint. Like a fresh peppermint pattie.

“Why is your coin important to you?” Just keeping up the conversation.

“It was my old man’s. He gave it to me before he left, said a million-dollar fortune could be made out of a single coin.” Marcus shakes his head and laughs. “Some fortune now, huh?”

His unfaltering optimism is something to admire. “What is it you plan to do for a living after school?”

“Dunno, maybe something with mechanics. I’m pretty good with building things. Have you met Jackie yet?”

The name brings no familiarity. “No?”

“She works with me in the shop. Jackie’s Velma’s little sister.”

I grit my teeth. “I do know Velma. Her and Grazie are… interesting.”

Marcus chuckles. “Yeah, they can be a handful. Jackie ain't like that, though. She’s nice.”

I give him a questioning look. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re new here and I can tell you’s looking for friends. Am I right?”

Ok this guy’s growing on me. First he offers to take me home, now he’s taken interest in helping me fit in.

“Y-Yeah. I’m not too good at finding friends. Thank you.”

“No problem.” We turn the block and start walking down my street. “So what’s your plans for after school?”

I don’t wanna lie, but I feel that my planned career will make him feel embarrassed.

“Um, I’m looking into being a professor of anatomy.”

Marcus’ head swings to look at me with wild eyes. Here it comes. Go ahead, make fun of the weird, nerdy outcast newcomer-

“That’s amazing!”

What?

I stare at him. “You’re not upset?”

Balkan repeatedly shakes his head, still smiling. “Why would I be? That’s a top-notch job! You must be one smart cookie, Lottie!”

I slowly realize that my brain isn’t going to get me mocked. “Thank you! Normally people hear that and think it’s crazy for a woman to be teaching at a university.” I bite my lip. “That’s- that’s actually part of the rumors I had back in Brooklyn. The girls used to say I was less feminine for wanting to take up a man’s job.”

Balkan stops walking and puts a hand on my shoulder. Earlier my instincts would’ve been to kick his crotch and run, but now I’m not afraid anymore.

“Those bitches don’t know what they’re saying. They’s jealous because you’s smarter than them, Lottie. Being smart don’t mean you’s less feminine. In fact, lots-a guys admire a goil with brains.” A smile grows on his face. “I know ‘cause I’m one-a them.”

Oh God. Steady, Lottie. But it’s no use. The walls I’ve built to keep people out are cracking. How has this man been able to make me feel special when he literally just met me?

“Who are you, Marcus Jackson?” I whisper. “You show up chasing a coin, a complete stranger. And now you treat me like an actual person.” My body reacts by giving him a soft hug, one that Marcus accepts gently.

“You’s a real nice goil, Lottie. Anyone should treat you like one.” I hear him sigh. “I’m probably gonna get killed for this.” Before I can ask Marcus pulls away and looks down at me with soft eyes. “Lottie, would you maybe wanna go out with me sometime? It don’t have to be much, just- Maybe as friends?”

It’s a good thing Marcus is still holding me because if he wasn’t I’d be crumbling to the floor.

“You mean that? An actual date?” I can’t hide my excitement. “No one’s ever asked before. Are you sure?”

The Jet boy’s eyes widen. “Yes! Yes, a thousand times yes!”

Through my sudden happiness I feel tears beginning to form. “I’d luv to, Marcus. But first-” I give a small laugh. “You should probably meet my parents first.”

He doesn’t even flinch. “Absolutely!”

“Good! Because… This is me.” I point to the door of the small house we’re standing in front of.

“Nice place,” the Jet compliments.

“Thank you. Would you like to come in? Dad won’t be home for another hour but I can ask if you can stay for dinner.”

Marcus looks as if I’d just offered him a million dollars. “Um, yeah! I mean, if it’s alright with your folks- Am I dressed well enough?”

I can’t help but laugh at his adorable statement. “You’re fine, Marcus.” Taking his hand, I lead him to the front door and lead him deeper into my life.

“Mother! I’m home! I brought some company.”

“Hello, dear!” Mother comes bustling from the kitchen. When she sees Balkan she freezes and her eyes narrow. “Lottie, who is this man?” she asks in a stern voice.

I give Marcus’ hand a squeeze. “Mother, this is Marcus. He walked me home from work.”

The Jet sets himself in a respectful stance. “Good evening, ma’am. I just wanted to make sure your daughter got home safe. I meant no disrespect.”

“Could he stay for dinner?” I ask hopefully.

Mother stews over my words with a conflicted expression. “Could I talk with you for a moment? Your friend can wait outside.”

That’s not exactly a no. Balkan doesn’t seem to mind because he gives a nod and walks back out without question. Once he’s gone, mother rushes over to put her hands on my shoulders.

“Sweetie, I am so happy you are trying to socialize. But is that boy the kind of crowd you think is right to be around?”

My confidence doesn’t slip. “I didn’t trust him either, but Marcus is a good man even if he is part of the Jets. You know how hard I’ve had it trying to find friends, mom. Well, Marcus and I are both starting with a clean slate. He’s not like the criminals dad deals with.”

Mother lets out a deep sigh. “Your father may not be happy at first.”

“I know. But please at least let him stay for dinner? Give him a chance for you to warm up to him.”

I think my goose is cooked. My parents have always been strict, and someone like Balkan isn’t exactly the prime example of dinner company-

“Very well, he can stay.” Mother’s worried look changes to a smile. “We’ve raised you well enough to have good judgment. I’m sure this young man is quite catching enough for you to bring him home. You’re growing up so fast, Lottie!” She gives me one last squeeze. “Alright, let him in.”

Feeling full of giddy hope I rush back to the door and open it to find an anxious-looking Balkan.

“My mother passed her blessing for you to join us! Come right in.”

Marcus looks like I just hung the moon. “O-Ok!”

I show him to the dining room and we both help set the table. Mother keeps a watchful eye as she brings out dishes of chicken and potatoes, but relaxes after she starts to see Marcus isn’t a threat.

“We usually eat before dad gets home,” I explain as we sit down. “Sometimes he gets overbooked with paperwork and doesn’t want us waiting too long.” I lean in and whisper: “You’ve met my mom, now you just need to survive my dad.”

Balkan’s face freezes in a look of new-found terror, but mother just laughs.

“I’ll talk him into it,” she assures. “Your father may be the head of the house, but the mother is the neck. And she can turn the head any way she wants.”

Marcus and I grab hands under the table, and for once in my life I’m glad we moved from Brooklyn. This new start is refreshing for both me and Marcus, one that I hope will lead to something special.

(Sneaked in a My Big Fat Greek Wedding reference!)

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