To put it short, you and Riff hated each other. Scratch that—despised each other.

You’re a Shark, he’s a Jet. Enemy gangs. See just what’s going on here, yeah? The school thought that making girls from the Sharks and Jets dance with boys from the Sharks and Jets.

Real bad idea. Real stupid idea. Real idiotic idea.

The girls and boys did a round robin, but of course, you ended up with Riff. Not only was he the leader of the Jets but also a teenage boy who definitely had a stick up his—

—Anyways. Forget that part.

You two stare at each other, displeased. Out of all the boys it could’ve been, it’s him! Him!

What can you even do at this point? Say no and just walk off the dance floor?

No, you’d look like a fool. But you don’t exactly want to dance with him, either.

Shit.