Back again! I'm really sorry for any delay, but my old computer literally keeled over and died, and so I lost the first draft of this chapter!

Side Note: Sorry to say that I really don't know where the two Latino kids work into the story, but…we'll figure it out.

"Silvana!" Francesca yelled from the living room. "There are some people here to see you!"

"Just a minute!" In truth, she had been asleep, though it was Saturday evening. She hadn't been feeling well of late, after having so much work.

She heard her sister reply with a "Whatever!" and the sound of Francesca's door closing somewhere down the hallway.

Tramping out to the living room, she saw Dubois and Papadopoulos standing in the doorway, Kenna and Eira already sitting on the couch, as if expecting her to take a while getting dressed, which she would have done had she known the first two would be there. But because she had expected it to only be her two closest friends, she was still in her black flannel pants and green T-shirt.

"Nice outfit, Moretti." Angelique smirked.

"Oh, shut it, Dubois."

"At least it's not Goth Christmas today," Evadne snickered, arising laughter out of the others.

"Where is Aletta anyway?" Eira asked, noting the lack of the snide floating robot.

"Here." The black form floated over them, before landing on Silvana's forehead in the shape of a black and red headband.

The others in the room shrugged, Kenna saying, "Come on, get dressed. We're going out." Without a word, Silvana did as her friend said. She was used to unexpected announcements such as these. She couldn't count how many times Kenna had burst into her house unannounced on a weekend, shouting out, "Get dressed, you idiot! We're going out today!"

"Where are we going?" she asked when she reentered the room, dressed in black tights and a dark green mini-dress, having seen the others dressed in similarly dressy outfits.

"Where else?" Kenna asked back. "Papadopoulos's club."

"Shoot!" the Italian muttered. "We haven't gone clubbing lately, have we?"

"Yeah, uh, no. I used to see you guys there every Saturday. You haven't been."

"I bet you haven't either, Papadopoulos. We've all been swamped."

"Which is why we're taking this lovely opportunity to do have some fun!" Eira broke in. She rounded them up and away they went.

"Forgot how loud the music was," Kenna shouted over the sound, wincing. Evadne shrugged, completely and totally used to it.

Everyone who was anyone, and a few who weren't, from their school came to Evadne's father's club Saturday nights. So of course the five of them would be seen together there.

"Hey, Angelique, Evadne, and…others." Here the girl who thought she was popular rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here…together?"

"Dancing with our friends, what else?" Kenna cut in, though the question had obviously been aimed at the two rich, and therefore popular, girls.

"Yeah, whatever," the girl said, blowing her off. She turned to the blond French girl, and the dark-haired Greek girl. "So—"

She never finished the sentence because just then the song changed, Evadne cried, "I love this song!" and she, Angelique, and the others escaped into the safety of the crowd on the dance floor.

"Do things like that happen to you a lot?" Kenna asked Evadne.

"What, getting bugged by annoying people who think they're my friends? Yes, it happens quite a lot." The Grecian girl rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"Well that sucks."

"Yeah."

An hour, maybe two, maybe three or four or five, later they stumbled out onto the dark New York streets, ready to return home for a peaceful rest, tired out of their minds. Oh, but has anyone ever heard of a peaceful night in the Big Apple?

This particular night, the peace was disrupted by an argument between a brother and sister. Though no native English-speaker could understand their words, they sounded harsh and angry.

"¡Estúpido! ¡Chica estúpida!" the brother shouted. (Stupid! Stupid girl!)

"¡Quise saber lo que sucedía! ¡Usted nunca me dice que nada!" his sister screamed back. (I wanted to know what was happening! You never tell me anything!)

"¡Usted nos pone ambos en peligro! ¡Usted idiota!" (You put us both in danger! You idiot!)

"¡Quizá si usted me incluyó en sus planes yo no habría hecho así!" (Maybe if you had included me in your plans I would not have done so!)

"¡Puedo no! ¡Es demasiado peligroso para usted! ¡Yo no necesito para siempre estar teniendo cuidado para su seguridad! ¡Quédese afuera justo de mis asuntos!" (I cannot! It is too dangerous for you! I don't need to always be watching out for your safety! Just stay out of my affairs!)

The sister's eyes grew cold as she stared down her brother. The five girls could practically feel the cold wind of anger as it blew between the siblings, and could almost see it ruffling her purple-streaked hair.

"Multa. Usted no necesitará para preocupar para mí más largo. Yo le estaré dejando." (Fine. You will not need to worry for me any longer. I will be leaving you.)

"¿Qué dices, mi hermana?" (What are you saying, my sister?)

"Yo no soy hermana suya más largo. Yo le repudío como mi hermano." (I am not sister of yours any longer. I disown you as my brother.)

The girl began to walk off down the street. Her brother looked stricken as he called after her.

"¡Espera! ¡Por favor, permitió que mí explique! ¡Yo le incluiré ahora! ¡Por favor no me deje!" (Wait! Please, let me explain! I will include you now! Please don't leave me!)

His sister did not respond, just continued walking. She didn't even acknowledge him in the slightest.

"¡Por favor!" he cried, falling to his knees on the sidewalk. He buried his face in his hands, whispering, "Lo siento. Lamento mucho. Regrese por favor, mi hermana. Lamento mucho." (I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please come back, sister. I'm so sorry.)

Not knowing what to do, the five girls looked back and forth between each other and the sobbing boy, who continued to whisper, "Lamento mucho, lamento mucho." None of them were taking Spanish in school, and therefore didn't know much of it beyond the usual terms that most Americans used to make themselves seem smarter.

Seeing as he was blocking their way, the five girls skirted around the still-crying boy, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to attract their attention. As they passed, he stood slowly, adjusting his beanie cap and his dark jacket, eyes turned downward. He didn't seem to notice them, turning and walking in the opposite direction that his sister had walked, a forlorn slump to his shoulders.

"Poor guy," Eira whispered to her friends. "I wonder what happened."

Silvana shrugged. "Not bilingual. All I know is that they were both mad about something. Oh, and 'por favor' means 'please'."

Angelique rolled her eyes, saying, "Let's just get home."

"Yeah," the others agreed, Kenna letting out a celebratory whoop and shouting, "No work tomorrow!" The others also celebrated at that.