Antonio Valentine was sulking.

...Which, wasn't much of a surprise, considering he was a spoiled brat, but it still put a damper on his smart-ass, tough-guy Italian reputation.

But he was, indeed, sulking.

And, in his mind at least, he had good reason. He was sitting in the back seat of his dad's black Cadillac. His dad was in the driver's seat, his mom in the passenger seat. Next to him were his two sisters, Maria and Gabriella, the Evil Twins.

Yes, they were that evil.

Antonio was sulking because his older sister Pippa was driving in her lovely turquoise convertible Mustang GT, and she had refused to let him ride along.

So now he was stuck in a car with the Evil Twins, who were arguing over something stupid.

...like which Hillary Duff song was the best.

"Mama, can we go see Hillary Duff in concert?" Gabriella said in her obnoxiously whiny voice. Isabella Valentine sighed quietly, the only sign she ever gave that she was irritated, and said, "We'll see."

Which meant, "Not a chance."

Not that Antonio was complaining. The last thing he wanted to deal with was the Evil Twins and Hillary Duff live, because it would be his accursed luck that he'd have to drag the Evil Twins to the concert and "chaperone."

As if things weren't bad enough, he was grounded from his music, so he had to actually listen to the Evil Twins. He glanced out the windshield and saw Pippa's beautiful convertible pull into the driveway of a massive white mansion at the top of a hill over-looking the neighborhood.

"Well, here we are kids," Isabella said, cheerfully. "Welcome to your new home."

"Hey, Antonio, want a ride to school?" Pippa offerred, ducking her head into Antonio's room. Her brother was frantically opening boxes, looking for clothes, apparently.

"Yeah, thanks," he said distractedly. "Pippa, what should I wear?" Pippa snorted. Only a year apart, Pippa and Antonio were odd because Pippa was a tomboy and Antonio was a metrosexual.

"Like I know or care," she replied. She made a face at the shirt Antonio pulled out, a white and blue striped polo to go with his corduroys. "Only not that. I swear, you are such a prep."

"And that's a bad thing?" Antonio demanded, looking offended as he pulled the shirt over his head. Pippa rolled her eyes.

"Uh, yeah. Now come on! We're gonna be late, mio fratello femminile." (1) Pippa ducked out of the room with a laugh as Antonio hurled a pillow at her.

"I am not girly," Antonio muttered, climbing into the passenger seat of her Mustang. Pippa rolled her eyes.

"Uh, yeah you are!" she exclaimed. "Everybody knows it, Antonio. You know it, I know it…The twins know it…Everybody knows it."

"Shut up, Pip."

"Hmm...No, I don't think I will, fratella," she said, cheerfully, hopping over the door of her car. Antonio smacked her upside the head.

"That's fratell-O, thank you very much!" he snapped. She chuckled, but didn't reply. Instead she turned on her CD player, which immediately started blasting Papa Roach.

Antonio made a face. "I hate your music," he whined. "Can't we listen to something good?" Pippa rolled her eyes.

"Because your music is crap," Pippa replied. Antonio looked offended.

"Oldies are NOT crap!" he shrieked. Pippa snorted.

"Are so."

"Are not."

"Are so."

"Are not."

"Are so."

"Are not."

"Are so."

"Are not!"

"Are so!"

"Are NOT!"

"YES THEY ARE AND WE'RE NOT LISTENING TO THEM!"

Antonio slouched in his seat and pouted the rest of the way to school.

(1) My feminine brother

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