West Side Stories Novels & Stories

They are unidentical not only in physique but also in their characters. Jeff is the lively and popular one while George is really weird and he never speaks. I have never seen him with anyone except his brother, Ade, Michelle and Christabel. When I returned from school, I spent a lot of time texting Ade. Well, he said we needed to catch up. He didn't mention the dinner and it made me wonder if he was going to come with his parents. Mum said he was going to come so I didn't mention it to him either. “Baby, you should start getting ready. Your father won't be available tonight. He had an urgent business in the Uk. I called Ade's mother and her husband would not be available too.”

The WestSiders had been a group of Polish thugs who had been involved in kidnapping and trading young girls to rich and immensely criminal individuals for incredible sums of money. He and Ruby had worked on the case because they had terrorized the city and the case was above the pay grade of the police. Ruby had been skeptical and unwilling to accept the job but he had pressured and convinced her until she was just as invested in it as he was, if not more. They were hell-bent on saving the girls and putting a stop to the terror that the WestSiders were instilling in the city.

“How long have we known each other?” Jasmine asked her friend. Eyes on her, he answered. “Three years.” “Let's sit,” She said. He obliged and joined her on the stairs. He knew that whatever she has to say was heavy. She turned to him with a bright smile, “If you were a sex worker, how much would you charge for a week?” “An entire week?” Jasmine nodded. “Yes.” This was one of the reasons she loved him. His ability to entertain her many out-of-the-world questions without deeming her crazy or shushing her.

So over time, people call them the people from the west, and some other people call them the West Siders to make it sound safe. “What do you mean they can't be the one!” I asked him, and he sat down and looked at me. “Take a look at the pictures! The victims of the west side are not as bad as the butler,” he said, and I looked down at the book. “Indeed!”