All right, I forgot to mention that the characters of Peter Pan and the
Darlings belong to J.M. Barrie/Great Ormond Street Hospital. Also, I lied.
Here comes Peter in this chapter, but briefly. I tried not to be cliché and
put him in Chapter One but I couldn't resist for Chapter Two...
Le Story:
Sicily woke up to her younger twin sisters, Milan and Venice, jumping up and down on her bed and screaming. Her eyes popped open and she glared. "You have three seconds to get out of my room or you two are dead!" She leapt out of her covers, sending them flying across the room and the twins tumbling across the hardwood floor. They grinned, standing in the doorway. "We saw you kissing! Kissing a-" they burst into giggles- "boy! And we saw the boy in your room!" Sicily grabbed their blond pigtails and dragged them into the hall. "If you rats don't stop making up lies, I will rip your pigtails off your head!" Milan stuck out her tongue and Venice impudently yelled, "Squeak, squeak! I'm a rat!" They giggled down the hall and Sicily groaned. "There was no boy in my room last night. Those two are worse than tabloids." She shut her door and pulled on a floral mini, pairing it with a white tanktop that said in rhinestones, "Diamonds are a girl's BEST friend" and black fishnets. Pulling on her olive Converse lowtops, she walked downstairs and poured a big bowl of cereal- she needed sugar. After a much needed energy boost, Sicily asked her mom to drive her to some shops. Her mom agreed and they hit London's finest, shopping like only women can. After they had quite a collection of bags, they went to the car to drive home. Mrs. Modder smacked her forehead. "Oh! Darling, I forgot- your father and I are going to a formal party later in the week, and the hosts have a daughter your age. They specifically asked that we bring you- you need a dress!" They dropped off the bags and headed back into a little shop called /I. With an armful of gowns, Sicily began to try them on. When she came out with one on, stopping in front of the mirrored platform, her mother bit her lip. "I don't know if that's appropriate for your age..." Sicily narrowed her eyes. "Mom, I'm fifteen." "Still..." Sicily was wearing a cinnamon halter gown that showed most of her tanned back and looked gorgeous with her auburn hair and dark brown eyes. It was fairly simple, but beautiful all the same, and cut just inches above her rear. Instead of V-cutting down into her chest like most halters, it stopped above her chest and cut straight across with a short brown suede ruffle spewing from the neckline. Sicily sighed, "It's perfect, Mom..." Looking in the mirror, she saw a strange boy peering at her over a rack of shirts. He had spiky blond hair, and seemed fairly tall, with attractive boyish features. She couldn't see what color his eyes were, but he was definitely watching her. She turned to get a better look, but he slipped into the crowd mid-turn, and she lost sight of him. "Too bad," she thought. "He was hot. London sure can make 'em." After a few more protests, her mother bought the dress, and they found a pair of 3-inch brown strap heels to go with it. Piling into the mini-cooper, they went to a small outdoor café and ate French fries and small personal pizzas, sipping Cokes and walking the streets when they were finished. As Sicily turned the corner, she saw the boy from /I staring at her. She gave him a coy smile, and he grinned back. "Uh, Mom...?" "Yes, dear?" "I'm gonna go over here for a second, okay? I see something cute." "That's fine. If you need money, come back." "Yeah, I will..." Sicily made her way over to the boy. "Hey." She said. He bowed, and she laughed. "I guess it's never too late for chivalry. I'm Sicily Modder. I noticed you, and apparently you noticed me, from the way you were staring..." He blushed. "I'm Peter." Sicily waited. "And...do you have a last name, Peter?" "Yes." "Are you going to tell me what it is?" "I wasn't planning on it." "I see...are you a runaway?" "Sort of." "Ah...I was kidding." "Well, how old are you? Sixteen?" "I guess." "Well, I tell you what. I'm going to give you my cell phone number. If you find a phone anywhere...call me." "All right." They parted company, and Sicily wandered back to her mother, stopping once to watch Peter walk away. /I "Did you find anything you liked?" Mrs. Modder asked. She smiled. "Oh, /I."
Le Story:
Sicily woke up to her younger twin sisters, Milan and Venice, jumping up and down on her bed and screaming. Her eyes popped open and she glared. "You have three seconds to get out of my room or you two are dead!" She leapt out of her covers, sending them flying across the room and the twins tumbling across the hardwood floor. They grinned, standing in the doorway. "We saw you kissing! Kissing a-" they burst into giggles- "boy! And we saw the boy in your room!" Sicily grabbed their blond pigtails and dragged them into the hall. "If you rats don't stop making up lies, I will rip your pigtails off your head!" Milan stuck out her tongue and Venice impudently yelled, "Squeak, squeak! I'm a rat!" They giggled down the hall and Sicily groaned. "There was no boy in my room last night. Those two are worse than tabloids." She shut her door and pulled on a floral mini, pairing it with a white tanktop that said in rhinestones, "Diamonds are a girl's BEST friend" and black fishnets. Pulling on her olive Converse lowtops, she walked downstairs and poured a big bowl of cereal- she needed sugar. After a much needed energy boost, Sicily asked her mom to drive her to some shops. Her mom agreed and they hit London's finest, shopping like only women can. After they had quite a collection of bags, they went to the car to drive home. Mrs. Modder smacked her forehead. "Oh! Darling, I forgot- your father and I are going to a formal party later in the week, and the hosts have a daughter your age. They specifically asked that we bring you- you need a dress!" They dropped off the bags and headed back into a little shop called /I. With an armful of gowns, Sicily began to try them on. When she came out with one on, stopping in front of the mirrored platform, her mother bit her lip. "I don't know if that's appropriate for your age..." Sicily narrowed her eyes. "Mom, I'm fifteen." "Still..." Sicily was wearing a cinnamon halter gown that showed most of her tanned back and looked gorgeous with her auburn hair and dark brown eyes. It was fairly simple, but beautiful all the same, and cut just inches above her rear. Instead of V-cutting down into her chest like most halters, it stopped above her chest and cut straight across with a short brown suede ruffle spewing from the neckline. Sicily sighed, "It's perfect, Mom..." Looking in the mirror, she saw a strange boy peering at her over a rack of shirts. He had spiky blond hair, and seemed fairly tall, with attractive boyish features. She couldn't see what color his eyes were, but he was definitely watching her. She turned to get a better look, but he slipped into the crowd mid-turn, and she lost sight of him. "Too bad," she thought. "He was hot. London sure can make 'em." After a few more protests, her mother bought the dress, and they found a pair of 3-inch brown strap heels to go with it. Piling into the mini-cooper, they went to a small outdoor café and ate French fries and small personal pizzas, sipping Cokes and walking the streets when they were finished. As Sicily turned the corner, she saw the boy from /I staring at her. She gave him a coy smile, and he grinned back. "Uh, Mom...?" "Yes, dear?" "I'm gonna go over here for a second, okay? I see something cute." "That's fine. If you need money, come back." "Yeah, I will..." Sicily made her way over to the boy. "Hey." She said. He bowed, and she laughed. "I guess it's never too late for chivalry. I'm Sicily Modder. I noticed you, and apparently you noticed me, from the way you were staring..." He blushed. "I'm Peter." Sicily waited. "And...do you have a last name, Peter?" "Yes." "Are you going to tell me what it is?" "I wasn't planning on it." "I see...are you a runaway?" "Sort of." "Ah...I was kidding." "Well, how old are you? Sixteen?" "I guess." "Well, I tell you what. I'm going to give you my cell phone number. If you find a phone anywhere...call me." "All right." They parted company, and Sicily wandered back to her mother, stopping once to watch Peter walk away. /I "Did you find anything you liked?" Mrs. Modder asked. She smiled. "Oh, /I."