Sicily was quiet the entire way home as she wondered about Peter. He was very strange, but very cute, and she tried to decide if that would be worth it...Also, she wondered if he was actually a runaway. What had he been wearing? Baggy olive cargo shorts with a grey wifebeater tank, reading, "The Lost Boys' Fight Club", matched with black flip-flops, but they had thin soles- not like the Adidas that most people wore...Perhaps he was homeless as he claimed. Actually, he hadn't said homeless, just that he'd run away. "Oh, well," She thought to herself. If he didn't call, there were plenty of fish in the sea...The girl collapsed on her bed upstairs only to hear squeals and a sharp pain under her back. A tiny fist thrust out from under her comforter and beat her side, and she jumped up. Milan squirmed out from under the blanket, hair mussed and face wrinkled from pillows, yelling, "Hey! I was trying to sleep!" Sicily growled, "Why aren't you sleeping in your own bed?" Milan shrugged. "Venice is in it." Sicily walked down the hall to the twins' bedroom and reached her arms out to shake Venice awake when she stopped. The 6-year-old was sprawled out across the bed, her long blond hair covering the pillow and one leg sticking out of the blanket, hanging off the divan. Slowly, Sicily turned to Milan and said quietly, "Why don't you sleep in her bed? I'll tuck you in." Milan lay down in Venice's bed and curled up, sucking her thumb contentedly, fair blue eyes shutting slowly. Sicily walked out of the room and shut the door. "I'm getting soft." She muttered. Going back in her room, she noticed that it had begun to rain, and that it made a pleasant roar outside, soft and rolling. She lay down and watched it outside the window and her eyes began to droop, so she closed them silently- she was not one to fight sleep. When they fluttered open a moment later, a lot of time had passed- the clock read 10:17. It was pouring outside now, and she got up and changed into a black camisole and a pair of petite shorts that barely covered her rear, white with black and purple pinstripes on them. She heard a knock outside her window. "Odd," Sicily wondered. "I live on the second story..." She opened her window and Peter was hanging on to a porch outside her window that she hadn't known was there. He hung by one arm, and waved with the other. She checked to make sure her door was shut, then pulled him inside. He was dripping wet, and Sicily grabbed a towel. Peter pulled off his shirt and she looked approvingly at his chest- tanned, and fit. As he dried his arms, she wrung out his shirt in the sink in her room. When she turned, his pants lay on the floor, and the boy held the towel around his waist. Sicily hung them with the shirt and turned around, rooting through her drawers and throwing him a pair of huge basketball shorts from a date in New York who'd given her a pair with his number on them. He put them on and sat, looking intently at her. "Well. Peter. Are you staying the night?" Sicily asked. He gave her an unreadable look and said, "Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing." She raised her eyebrows. "No- I don't go that far." He ran his fingers through his blond curls and said, "Well, it was a long shot- it's a pretty lengthy trip, and I barely know you-" as she said in unison, "I mean, I'm new but not stupid and I wouldn't- I barely know you!" They looked at each other. "I think we're talking about different things..." Peter said carefully. Sicily asked him, "What trip?" He stared at her and seemed to be measuring her in his mind, and instinctively, she sucked in her stomach, straightened and raised her chest before she realized she was doing it. Peter asked her slowly, "Are you...happy?" She stuttered, "Sure, I mean, I've got it all, right? I should be!" He repeated himself. "But are you happy?" Without warning, tears began to roll down Sicily's face, and she tucked her knees up on her bed, burying her face in them. Instantly, Peter was beside her, his arms wrapped around her. "Do you want to be happy?" Sicily was furious with herself. She didn't cry- no one was supposed to see when she wasn't happy. It was weakness, lack of control, and she didn't do it! She looked up at Peter, her eyelashes spiky around her coffee eyes and strands of hair stuck to her tears. "I don't think you can do that." His limbs tightened around her, and he asked suddenly, "Where is your dad?" Sicily laughed harshly. "Him? In Virginia. He divorced my mom and ran off with the secretary. Classic. He doesn't want us anymore- he has new kids, a new life, a new house, and I hate him." "You miss him." Said Peter. She began to cry again, and she yelled at herself in her mind- "Stop it! Stop letting him see you cry!" Slowly, he stood up, lingering in the window alcove but not opening the window. "Sicily. You're not going to believe me, but I want you to try. I have to tell you something that's hard to hear the first time." Her face melted. "Oh, God. Are you gay?" He looked thrown and slightly disturbed, shaking his head. "Um, no. What I wanted to say is that...Peter Pan is real. He's me." Sicily laughed. "Are you on crack?" Again, he shook his head and sighed. He pushed off the windowsill and rose into the air a few feet, floating just under the ceiling. Her mouth fell open, and she fainted off the bed, her head hitting the floor and echoing in the room. Peter rushed over and wrung his pant over her forehead, rainwater dripping into her eyes and waking her. Her eyes were wide. "You were- were..." He nodded. "I flew. Would you like to learn?" She gave him a calculated look and slowly stood up, acquiescing suspiciously. Peter put his face dangerously close to her and blew powder into her face, but it didn't burn her eyes. "Pixie dust?" she asked. He smiled. "I suppose you know what to do?" She closed her eyes and thought about Venice sleeping- the first happy thought that came to mind. She felt herself rise slightly, and said skeptically as she looked at her feet, "This is against everything Einstein stood for..." Peter smirked. "Guess what's next?"

((Woo, woo, here comes Neverland...))