"You are the worst boy, Theodore Laurence."
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For centuries, humankind has used the stars. Whether it be for navigating across unfamiliar oceans, for preserving myths and legends of great heroes who were bestowed a spot in the heavens by the gods...
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CHARLOTTE FIDDLED WITH the layers of her skirts, running her hands over the soft fabric. The dress was cream colored, with navy blue embroidered leaves and flowers on the bodice, skirts, and puffed sleeves. She wore her gloves from her suitcase, happy she had remembered to add them. It had felt silly at the time, but she was most grateful now, especially after Meg's long lecture to Jo about the importance of good, clean gloves at a party.
She had gotten the dress from Meg, who had gifted it to her after pointing out the large tear in the back that had been hastily sewn back together and left an odd crease in the skirt. Her old boots, the only shoes she had brought from home, were well hidden beneath her skirts, which seemed to appease an uneasy Meg who insisted they look as proper and ladylike as possible.
Meg had told her of the Christmas party being held a few days after she arrived, and begged for Charlotte to attend with her and Jo. She had refused both the dress and an invitation to the party at first, and only after lots of convincing from Meg and a few witty comments from Jo, did she finally give in.
She sat on Meg's bed with Beth beside her as Jo attempted to curl Meg's hair, flipping through the book that was at Jo's bedside. Scribbles and blotches of ink filled the margins, expressing Jo's thoughts and making the rather dull book more interesting. Charlotte's favorite additions were when Jo, clearly unsatisfied with the original author's work, rewrote lines of text in the margins or crossed out whole passages.
"Why can't we all go to the party? It's not fair!" Amy frowned as she played with one of Meg's hairbrushes in the mirror. She had been complaining all night about not being invited, and even Marmee had a trouble quelling Amy's frustration and disappointment.
Meg shoved her foot into one of her slippers, trying to force it in, but despite her struggles she couldn't fit it over her heel. "These fit last winter," she complained as Jo told her not to move. She curled a piece of Meg's hair in a paper strip and wrapped it around the hot tongs, concentrating to make sure it didn't slide off.
"My nose will simply not look refined." Amy's fingers pushed her down on her nose, attempting to shape it in the mirror.
"I like your nose." Beth hummed to no one in particular, twirling a piece of her doll's hair between her fingers as she leaned on Charlotte.
Amy skipped across the room, grabbing at Jo's hair. "Now, Jo-"
"Don't touch me, thanks. I already feel ridiculous I don't want to look it!" She tried to move her head as Amy ran the brush through her hair.
"You could be pretty if you tried." Amy huffed, moving on to exploring Meg and Jo's drawers. She pulled them open and browsed through their clothes, occasionally taking a piece out and holding it up to herself in the mirror.
