Adaption

Reflex

The most memorable thing about Sydney's reaction was that it was somewhat delayed. When Louis came in to tell her she was still lounging in bed. Half-asleep she tried to take in what he had to say. Then, after he left she got up. She padded towards the kitchen and got herself some cereal. When her parents came in she didn't say a word. Her mouth was full at the time and anyway, she wouldn't have known what to say. Afterwards she stood up to put my bowl in the sink to rinsed it, the running water blocked out the sound of her mother's vain attempts at conversation.

She went back to her room. Putting her earphones in enabled her to block out the world. Cutting twisting, gluing, humming. She got a bit of a fright when I saw what time it was. She quickly changed herr outfit, surveying herself in the mirror. Trying to imagine what the others would say if they saw what she was wearing. Louis would say she was cute. Clare would admit that it was nice- "if you liked that sort of thing." Kerry would simply nod her approval. Somehow she had picked up on her fashion sense over the years.

Her eyes looked huge and her skin had taken on a rather translucent quality. Now didn't seem the time to go asking to borrow make-up from her sisters though. Naturally, they weren't in the best of moods. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of them all morning. Knowing them though, they would not want to be disturbed.

Her friend Mikeyla was having her birthday slumber party that night. They had been best friends, pretty much since they had moved here three years ago. She had missed her last two birthdays because her mother had a lot of work abroad during the summer, so as not to disturb Louis or the twins during the school year. She carefully wrapped her gift before putting it in an overnight bag with the rest of her stuff. She was glad that she had decided to make it herself.

She wandered into the living room to let them know she was leaving. Otherwise they would worry. "Mom, I'm going to head over to Mikeyla's place now." Her dad offered to drive her. She declined; the fresh air would help clear her head. Promising to send them a text message when she got there she left, arriving in good time. Mikeyla loved the present, thus enveloping her in a huge bear hug. Comparable to that her big brother had given her only two days before. She admired the bracelet as she put it on her wrist.

Around midnight, they paused the movie they were watching. The double doors swung open. In came her father. Her Dad, at six feet two inches, was almost obscured; so high was the tray of goodies he was carrying. Then, came not just one but two more. A midnight feast! After he deposited each on the coffee table he bowed in an exaggerated fashion. Mikeyla loved her dad. As he tried to back gracefully out of the room she ran over and pressed a button on the stereo. The opening chords of ABBA's Man after Midnight could be heard. She grabbed his wrists and they danced together on the sea of mattresses. Emma, a new girl who'd joined out class just last semester whispered worriedly, "Isn't a bit loud?" We didn't know if she was referring to the music or Mikeyla's giggles. It didn't matter. She didn't know the Smiths. Mikeyla, always the hostess, picked up on her guest's concern. "Yeah Dad, maybe we should tone it down a bit? I mean what about Mom?" She was referring to the fact that her mother was in bed.

"Honey, your mother explicitly told me not to worry about her. She just wants to make sure you and your guests have a great time! Anyway, she's got earplugs." Her mom was due to the baby in four months' time. She was a young, ex-model. Her Dad was a Wall Street tycoon. They had both lived in Manhattan for a while after Mikeyla was born. As soon as she learned to walk though, her Dad insisted that they moved to the countryside. He wanted her to have room to grow and spend her childhood outdoors. Like most of the houses in this area their house was impressive. It had a pool, a trampoline and stables for the horses. Her mom had a vegetable patch too. When Mikeyla was born and her Mom retired she had the money for professional help but wanted to do it herself. At home, looking after the baby she had become hooked on her Mom's cookery shows. She swore that her mom's cooking was what started her real love of food. And what put a stop to her being as stick -thin as she had been during her modelling days.