The Jets. The scariest gang in all of New York-with Mouthpiece. The little blond puppy boy.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you rolled over on the bed. You couldn’t help but blush and giggle whenever you saw his name. “Mouthpiece”. He had invited you to the dance at the gym, and you were so excited.

A boy had never loved you as much as him, so you weren’t losing this one. You picked out a beautiful blue dress, and smiled widely as you heard a knock on your window.

“Ready?”