Nico smiled. They were her favorite sneakers. They were colorful and hadCalvin and Hobbescartoons covering the body of the shoe.
“Pretty cool, huh?” she said, lifting her feet and showing off the shoes from all sides.
“Very cool,” the taller one said, nodding.
“Most decidedly cool,” the shorter one said, nodding as well.
Nico had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
The taller one introduced herself. “I’m Sofia. And this,” she said, pointing to the other girl, “is my little sister Beatrice.”
“I’m her younger sister,” Beatrice said. “Not little. I may be shorter now, but that’s only because she’s seven and I’m only five. I plan on being taller than her in the future.”
Nico stood looking from one to the other, nodding and doing her best to muster a serious expression. They were a real kick.
“And who might you be?” Beatrice asked.
“I’m Nico. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sofia said.
“To be sure,” Beatrice said.
A chortle burst from Nico’s mouth, which she quickly covered up with a cough. “You both speak English fluently.”
“We learn it at school, and our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents speak it, so we get lots of practice.”
“Where are you going?” Sofia asked.
“Out to get some dinner.”
“Are you hungry?”
Starving, she thought.
They pulled her into an adjoining room with a sofa, some chairs, and a collection of toys and games strewn about the floor. After passing through two more rooms they finally arrived at the dining room, complete with a table that could seat as many as twelve people and a candelabra chandelier hanging above it.
She had thought her suite was spacious, but it looked like a broom closet compared with this palace.
There on the table was a pizza box.
“It just came. We haven’t even started yet.”
They lifted the cover, and the delicious smell of cheese, tomato, prosciutto, peppers, and caramelized onions on toasty crust wafted toward her nose. It looked and smelled like it had been baked in a stone oven—a mere hint of charcoal on the golden crust around the edge.
Nico clutched her stomach. She kept her mouth shut so that she didn’t drool on the carpet beneath her feet. It looked Persian. And expensive.
“What about your mom and dad?”
“They’ll be here soon,” Sofia said. “They won’t mind.”
“Come on,” Beatrice said.
They dragged her to the table. Not that she put up much resistance.
“There’s plenty.” Sofia pulled out a chair for Nico and then sat in the one beside her.
Should she do this?
