"Wendy, I'm so glad you're here!" The Mermaid grabs my wrist and pulls me toward the circle of girls waiting near my usual poolside chair. I smile at being hauled along, tripping over tiles and other people's chairs to follow her.
Dropping my bag, I shuck off my T-shirt and jeans, leaving me in my purple plaid bikini, free to tan. The girls look tense. "What's up? Hook come by yesterday?" I hadn't been here because Peter thought that the Pirate might show up.
"No," one girl says.
"Well, someone did show up. But someone new, not a Pirate." Alyssa elbows her way through to stand beside me. "A new chick with a ton of siblings."
I sigh. "And this is a crisis because?" New girls show up all the time.
"This one is different." Alyssa holds up her hands at my exasperated look. "It's hard to explain. She's a lot like you, kinda uptight--" I snort. "--but you just need to see her." Mermaids nod.
"Point her out if she shows up." I pull my hair into a ponytail, yanking the elastic band from around my wrist, and launch into the water. I manage a few laps before kids swim time is announced. Squeezing water out of my hair, I prepare to tan. Sunglasses and a cigarette required.
My fingers glide along the inside of my bag until they reach the rectangle of the Zippo I lifted from a downtown tattoo studio. There's a dragon on the front, which is why I took it. The cig lights with a sizzle, and I recline on my favored chair.
It's easy to imagine I'm a queen holding court, surrounded by girls who want what I want, what I have, what I am. This much I've learned from Peter: if you can make them envy you, they'll follow you.
The atmosphere alters subtly, and I sit forward just as Alyssa elbows me from her neighboring chair. She points to the entrance of the pool. I turn to see a small army of crow-headed, bronze-skinned children tumble onto the white tile. One busts and slams into a heavy metal table. I chuckle.
A girl with straight, glossy black hair and long, long legs walks in behind the kids. The Mermaids turn their heads enough to watch me from the corners of their eyes. I stupidly collect my shocked expression and transform it into a blank look of examination. She looks at everything like it's hers, and I can see the pride in the set of her shoulders.
I feel a rushing in my chest, like a black hole ready to crush me, but I knew from the moment the girl walked in. I always know these moments, the ones that require a decision. I can sit here and ignore her, and the Mermaids will eventually split down the middle to accommodate us both. I can get up and try to be superior, but just looking at her makes me want to present my belly like a dog would.
The thought is a punch to the gut. Never.
I smile, broad and lazy, as I walk toward her. "Hey there. Thought I'd, y'know, welcome you to the party. I'm Wendy." I stick out my hand.
"Lily Redcrow." She shakes my hand, her hands cool with a firm grip. "I hear you run things here." Her eyes hold a bit of a smirk.
"You could say that." The Mermaids have been talkative. Tilting my head down so she can see my warning glance, I smirk and say, "Of course, you're something of a celebrity now." The girls are watching with sideways glances and uninterested looks. With a smirk, I suck in smoke and flick ashes onto the concrete.
"We've all got our crosses to bear," she replies.
From all the barbs Jack throws at me, I've learned to smile at insults. I shrug a shoulder, saying, "If you want to look at it that way." I drop the butt of my cig into an ash tray by the entrance and turn back to face Lily. Might as well try to sound charitable. "But all I wanted to say was hey, welcome to the pool."
Lily's gaze focuses away from my face, moving to look over my shoulder, when hands slide down my arms. "Hey, Wendy. See you've got a new friend here. Care to introduce us?" Peter purrs, resting his chin on my shoulder.
I stiffen. "Lily, this is Peter. Peter, Lily."
She wheels toward the pool and shouts, "Sean! Do not hold Brenden's head under the water!" Two of the dark haired kids separate and swim away from each other. Satisfied, she looks back at us. "Hello, Peter. Nice to meet you."
I snort, amused. "Lily the Tiger Lady." She half smiles at me.
"Peter," Lily says, tapping her fingers against her leg. "I think I've heard of you. You're the one with the gang the police are after."
He releases me and steps to the side. "Yes, well. I'm all sorts of dangerous, I guess. Course, Wendy always tells me chicks dig the bad boy, and I like to believe it's true." Peter moves closer to the other girl, cutting me out of the conversation. I frown. That isn't very nice.
Lily gives me an impassive look, just the barest glance over Peter's shoulder. A corner of my mouth twists up and I roll my eyes, stepping back and returning to my Mermaid friends.
A girl asks, "What do you think of her?"
"She's pretty, smart. She's mean, too." I grin a little. Mean girls, all of us. "I'm gonna keep an eye on her, that's for sure." Lily, still speaking to Peter and unable to hear my words, tucks her hair behind her ears. She's got an appraising look, but I can see the hole opening up in any resistance she might try. She'll be his girl if he asks her to be. My heart lurches.
"Your honey's coming," Alyssa murmurs, nudging my leg with her knuckles. The Mermaids get up to give me some privacy.
In a motion startling in similarity to Peter's, Romeo slides his hands down my arms. I lean back and tug on his shoulders to bring his face close enough to mine for a kiss. "Hey. Who's the chick Peter's drooling over?" he asks.
Irritation ignites in my chest. Does everything already have to revolve around the new girl? At Romeo's gentle shove, I violently jump over in my chair so he can slide in next to me. He raises his eyebrows. "Her name's Lily. And yes, he does like her very much."
Romeo glances back at her, and I watch his face. A light frown passes over his face, followed by a hard expression I can't name. Leaning my head against his collarbone, I watch Lily and Peter as well. Before our eyes, Lily's caution and reserve break open from the force of Peter's attention. He's being his most charming. I can tell, from his way of standing bent towards her, the way he looks as if there's a private joke only she can understand.
Lily drops her shoulders, a kind of reversed shrug, and that's the end. Peter puts his arm around her waist, and a sharp little pain twists in my stomach. Envy. This is that coveting thing, wanting him more because somebody else has him. It makes me almost nauseous. Drowning.
"Romeo, tell me you love me." I can barely hear my own voice through the buzzing in my ears.
"I love you. You know I do." He tears his gaze away from the other couple to look at me. His fingers trail down the front of my thigh, calling me back from the sinking jealousy.
"How about we blow this popsicle stand and go back to Neverland?" I ask, sliding my hand across his abs. He chuckles and helps me up.
Romeo provides the most excellent distractions at times like this. I hate to be selfish, but it's not really all that selfish, when you consider I'm not the only one that benefits. It's gotten harder to be distracted, with Peter deciding he can touch me and kiss me and hold me in public, in front of Romeo. Romeo's told me he doesn't mind, that he's not jealous, as if I was actually worried about his feelings on the matter.
Truly, I'm worried about me, my own feelings. For just this reason. I'm jealous over Peter, and it's ripping me away from my own boyfriend.
But it's hard to think about Peter, flirting with me or shutting me out, when Romeo's kissing a line up my neck. His weight presses the air from my lungs, makes me feel safe in a strange way. Like he's between me and the jealousy, the confusion. Maybe his hands on me, this special attention, really do take away all the crap from Peter. Maybe this is the way Romeo's protective of me.
I'm too wired to sleep, so I get up and pull my jeans and tank back on. Just as I walk into the Treehouse, John runs straight into me. "Watch it, man," I growl, picking myself up off the floor without his help. He's been such a dick lately, and it pisses me off. Especially when he does this, the little shit.
"Have you heard? Peter's got himself a new woman. You been upstaged, sister," he mocks, standing with his hands in his pockets. Picture perfect renegade Lost Boy, except he betrays his eagerness by rocking a little, making his chains jingle. I roll my eyes. "Don't pretend it desn't bother you."
"It doesn't matter whether I'm his 'woman' or not, John. I'm one of his Boys." Despite the gnawing edge it brings to the front of my thoughts, it does raise an issue. What if the Lost Boys feel I've been replaced, or worse? "Get out of my face."
Walking further into the Treehouse, I fall over onto the couch. John never used to be this good at needling me. Sometimes he'd hit a nerve, but those times were luck. This is malice. He's also learned to be something of a fight-picker, although I haven't heard anything encouraging about his follow-through.
I feel a gentle pressure against my legs and look over the cushion edges. Michael isn't adamant about separating himself from his sister. Reaching out to him, I flick the shaggy hair over his ear. It needs to be cut again. We smile at each other, then he returns to carving a name into a flat block of wood. Peter's on a kick of having everyone's room labeled. Who knows why. Maybe my crazy decorating has gotten to him.
"Hey, Wendy-lady." I tilt my head to look at Jack. Annoying bastard must have a weakness radar. "How--
"If you're about to say anything involving Peter and Tiger Lily, and how I feel about it, I'll kick your ass." Jack raises his eyebrows, making me smile.
"Duly noted. However, my original question related to you accompanying me on a certain business trip I have to make today."
I sit up. He has a supremely annoying habit of tilting his head up so he can look down his nose at you. All I can see of his eyes are jade green lines between his lashes, which makes it very hard for me to judge his sincerity or nastiness at the moment. "Why me? What for?"
"You're the best knife fighter outside of Pack and Metal. Pack's a little busy. Metal said no." Jack smiles, an indulgent grin in hopes I won't follow my mentor's precedent.
"A hater not a fighter, I guess?" I ask, flicking my fingers at him.
He barely blinks, then his eyes open wide as he laughs. "Wendy, you're full of surprises."
I smirk. Good. "I should hope so. Anyways, yeah, I'll go with you."
"Just like that?" Suspicious thing.
"I figure that if you seem to be taking unfair advantage of my good nature, I'll just pin you down and cut my payment out of you." No snappy comebacks leap out of his mouth. "We understand each other, then?"
"Let's go," Jack replies, jostling my shoulder. Sitting up, I reach into my pocket to assure myself of my knife. "Got a cig for Jack?"
I consider giving him one as I walk to the Treehouse door, only to be nearly run over by Peter. "Yo, Peter. Watch out."
"Wendy, thank you," he says, sweeping me into a hug. I'd ask what for, but my face is mashed against his shoulder. And I already know what he means. "Lily is the best."
Squirming back out of his embrace, I give him my best shiny smile. Still, I can't keep the bitterness totally out of my response. "Well, that's why I'm here - for you to be happy." Tell me. You've gotta tell me, Peter.
"Oh, Wendy. No matter what, you're still my favorite." He gives me a gentler hug, more of a squeeze. The Boys return to their games and conversations. No one's usurping my throne.
I turn my head to indicate to Jack that we're leaving. Holding a cigarette out for Jack, I light my own before his and shoulder open the door.
"Pretty impressive," Jack says. What the hell? I look confused. "That whole performance back there." He flicks ash at my feet.
A girl can pretend she has excellent wiles, but you don't have to go destroying the illusion of subtlety. "I'm just glad so many of the Boys were around. Now is no time to have a bunch of uppity Boys on my case."
"Or not on it," Jack adds with a malicious laugh.
"What is your deal?" I ask without looking at him. I glare at our fellow pedestrians instead. "You hate me, yet you ask me to do something for you as a favor, shall I remind you. And still you bitch while I'm helping you out."
"I don't hate you," he says, stretching the vowels for as long as possible, as only English people can. Glowering at him doesn't make me feel better. "You're not my favorite person, yes. Plus you're fun to harass."
"Behold my delight." I flip him off in irritation.
Some grandma-types - the kind who buy Girl Scout cookies and sew perfect quilts - frown at me. I blow smoke at them and cling to Jack in an insinuating manner. The women gasp, "I never!" and glare.
Jack dislodges my hands but smiles. "Provided you keep your hands off the goods, I might say I almost like you. You never say sorry. You never back down. And that's more than you can ever expect me to say again."
The praise embarrasses me, so I punch him in the shoulder. "Shut up. You'll make me blush."
"You're right. I still don't like you, wench." He sticks out his tongue after I slap him upside the head. I flick my cigarette to the side as we move off the public sidewalks and into back alleys again.
"Dealings with Wolves, today?" It hasn't been beyond me to notice we're heading in the direction of their territory, although as a Lost Boy, and therefore a person of high communal standing and excellent fighting skills, I have less to worry about.
"Who are still little guys, though they like to gang up. So watch it." I shrug, rolling my eyes. That's all I ever do around him. Resolution: every time I want to roll my eyes at Jack, punch him instead.
I smile as Jack knocks on a door. When I follow him inside the building, the looks I receive aren't flattering. The boys in the hallway leer.
I'm such an awesome secret weapon.
The room chosen for the meeting is packed with crates around the edges, where boys crouch to watch us. The only door is the one we enter through. But I'm tough, and there's only eight of them. Jack glances at me, and I nod. I can do this. I refuse to lose at this. Crossing my arms, I lean against an unoccupied tower of boxes. Just waiting, hoping things'll go fine.
Let Jack get his business out of the way.
"You owe me some goods, mate," Jack says softly.
"Owe? I don't owe you nothing." The kid puffs out his chest and smirks. Fighting and bloodshed for all, then. This won't go down easy. "You must have us Wolves confused with those Vigilante bastards." I smirk. The Wolves have been punked by the Vigils on numerous occasions. While Jack considers whether to talk more or incite violence, I kick a crate and laugh at the stupid bravado display from the Wolf leader.
Glares from all sides but Jack, who ignores me. "No, the Wolves do owe me some goods. And you need to give 'em to me before we have a problem." Despite how ugly Jack is to me, I've never heard him sound this dangerous. I hope I never have to see him act on it.
"We?" Someone chokes on their own laughter.
Sometimes I wonder if these kids ever go outside, ever hear any of the stories about me. I'm good enough to be an institution now. Waving, I say, "Hi. I'm still here."
"Whatever." The Wolves' leader turns back to Jack and says, "Sorry, kid. You just have to go now." He snaps his fingers and some of the sideline kids rise to their feet. Jack lifts a few fingers, and I trot over to join him. Adrenaline surges through my system, but Metal's voice in my head tells me to watch my exits, watch my enemies, listen, and look. "Oh, what's this? Jack-o's got a chick to defend him!"
Considering a snappy insult, I glance at Jack. He wants to get finished and go. "So what exactly does our unwise compadre owe us, Jack?" I ignore the answer, though, cause I'm glancing over the guys around us. The three who got up at the leader's command are the closest to us, aside from the cranky-ass mouthpiece himself. "Well, I guess you'd better get us our goods, honey. Otherwise there's gonna be serious trouble." And once that happens, Jack's on his own as far as his goods are concerned.
The kid starts to retort, and I lose my temper. I step forward and slug him hard, hitting him up under the chin. Jack pounces before the guy's through falling. I stand between Jack and those three closest boys, pulling out my switchblade with a grin.
Only one has a weapon, but all three rush me. Swinging sideways, I knock my shoulder into one of the unarmed and ram him into the kid with the knife. The other unarmed kid shows some skill hand-to-hand, but I've ultimately got the sharp object and faster reflexes. I cut him across the chest, but shallow. The kid with the knife is up again. "Jack, faster."
"Patience is a virtue!" I'd tell him where to stick his patience, but that'd slow him down more. The rest of the Wolves are beating a retreat out of the room.
Flipping my knife around so that the blade extends from the back of my fist, I stand my ground and wait for the poor excuse of a knife-fighter in front of me. The boy shifts back and forth, trying, no doubt, to seem menacing. But he still holds his knife like a novice.
He rushes me. The slash goes wild, almost a flail, and slices my left arm. I hiss a litany of curses.
"All right, let's go," Jack announces. I fall back and follow him out the door. Knife Boy chases me, and I swing at him, clubbing him in the head with the strength of the knife handle clenched in my fingers. He stumbles and slaps a hand to his forehead, where a crimson line oozes blood down his face.
Whipping around, I turn and rush after Jack. He hasn't even paused to see whether I'm missing any limbs or even still behind him. I drag him into a cramped alley. He stands toward the back, leaving me closest to the opening, knife out and ready in case the Wolves feel brave enough to follow.
"Hey, you're bleeding," Jack says, poking just to the side of the wound on my arm. It hurts like a bitch. I smack his hand away, glancing at my arm. "It's bleeding at a good clip, too." The blood busily creeps down my arm.
"You afraid of the sight of blood?" I ask, looking out into the main street we just left.
"No," Jack scoffs.
"Then stop the bleeding or shut up, jackass," I snap. Not that he'd condescend to help, but at least he should shut up. I hear muffled voices, so I press up against the wall with fresh anxiety.
Jack holds my arm at the elbow and pulls it away from my side. Looking over, I prepare to kill him. He has what seems to be a handkerchief - and it's clean, so it must be his - folded up. I watch, feeling stupid, as he binds the cloth over the cut. He ties it off and smiles. Maybe not quite a smile. Just relaxes his face out of its usual system of frown-and-smirk. "There, bitch."
"Thanks," I reply, smiling faintly. He isn't too bad. All the time. The voices fade, and I sigh. "Let's go. Get everything you needed?" Not that I care.
"I got enough." His smirk returns. "I figured a daring raid would be out of the question, since I had you and not Metal."
"Misogynist bastard," I say, and, with a small grin, punch him in the arm.
I roll out of bed with a mini-hangover - too many margaritas at Tink's last night - and shuffle into the Treehouse. I'm not the only one who seems to have had the worse end of the drinking deal. Some of the Boys look tired and hung-over.
"Did I miss some wild party or something?" I ask the room at large.
Peter appears next to me out of nowhere. "Why? What do you know?" He's yelling in my face. I hate that more than anything.
"Hi, Peter. No, I came home from Tink's and went to bed." I cross my arms and glare. "Some of the Boys look like shit. I ask because I care."
Peter sighs but clomps off anyway, snapping orders and grumbling to himself. I watch him, feeling sulky. Then Lily comes in. "Lily, darling!" He sweeps her into his arms and kisses her.
I turn away to find Romeo and slide an arm around his waist. He sidles away, wincing, and I frown. "Sorry, Wendy. Rough night."
"So I gathered." The little headache throbs behind my eyes, and I start to feel more than a little crabby. And look, to make it better! Here comes Lily.
"Hey, Wendy!" She smiles, a sort of satisfied one. Look how I'm special and you're not! "Wanna go to the pool today?"
"I might."
"Don't get mad. Peter just thinks we should bond or something." Her smile starts to look sinister. I don't think she fancies the idea any more than I do.
I look over at Peter, and sure enough he's watching us like we might start a cat fight. "Fine, Tiger Lily. Let's go to the pool and bond."
"We'll have to stop by my house on the way, then. Since I don't have my stuff with me." Oh yes, please. Let's stop by the house so that I feel even better about living in an abandoned building, sleeping on a mattress and lounging on a pawned couch.
I make a tiny bow to have her lead the way.
She complains about the size of the house from the moment I step into the entryway. "It's so small. When you've got nine brothers, anything short of a farm doesn't have enough room." Lily disappears into a back hallway while I wait in the living room.
The house is silent, almost eerie. It's been a very long time since I was last in a real house. The chains attached to my pockets swing as I walk and catch a vase on the coffee table. I lunge to catch it, setting it upright again with a frustrated snort. Too many things to break here. "Where are your brothers, anyway?" I ask, to puncture the silence as much as to know the answer.
Returning with a tote bag over one shoulder, she raises her eyebrows at me. "They're at school, like all the good little boys and girls."
I laugh. "That says why I'm not at school. Why aren't you?" I try not to wince when I realize I've just said.
Her expression changes a little, becoming more vulnerable. It's like looking into the hole I saw Peter make on his first meeting with her. I realize this is important just as her face becomes impassive again. "Just didn't want to go today." I shrug, following her out onto the sidewalk again.
She stays silent for about a block, then asks, "Do you even know what month it is?"
I pause for a moment, but what the hell. "I know it's not December, because Christmas is over. The begonias are gone, which means it's at least February. And I know it isn't April, cause I haven't seen any Easter stuff out yet. So I'm gonna go with March." We watch each other out of the corners of our eyes. "So?"
She sighs. "It's March 16th." A few more seconds go by. "You're completely crazy."
Oh, thanks. Beautiful compliment, but are you sure you don't want to go with a nice and-you're-ugly-too combo? "News to me. I am a paragon of mental stability, thank you." I shake my head and haul my cigarettes out of my pocket. Speaking around one I stick in my mouth, I ask, "Want one?" Might as well attempt to get along.
"Don't mind if I do," she murmurs, pulling one out of my pack. It's almost empty. I should get some more today. She cups her hands around my lighter and leans toward the flame.
The pool looks odd today. There's no smoke from the Mermaids, and Alyssa's giving me a strange look. I bet the Pirates are here. "Lily, do you have one of these?" I ask, holding up my engraved ring as I yank the chain over my head.
"No," she says, frowning. "Should I?" I can tell it makes her jealous.
Now is not the time, however. "It's a ring that says you're a Lost Boy," I say and, with a panicked look to make sure no one's watching, stuff the ring into my bag. It goes into the little inside pocket where I keep money and tampons. Unless a formal search happens, the Pirates won't touch that pocket. I can just imagine Hook's face upon finding tampons. "The way things look, the Pirates are here to stir up trouble. Don't tell them we're friends of Peter's, or that I'm a Lost Boy. It'll get Peter in trouble."
Lily opens her mouth to say something, a frown telling her intention to argue. Don't have time for her being a snot.
"Ladies, I believe the sign says 'no smoking,'" a smooth voice says. With a scowl, I notice the sign I'd had Tank and Cowboy tear down has been attached to the wall again. Lily and I plaster on a smile and turn to face Captain Hook. He points to the ash tray under the sign. I suck my cig to ash and flick the butt into the sand next to Lily's. "Well, Wendy. I seem to have some interesting information about you."
"I'm dead sexy, and you've decided to declare your love in public?" I ask, leaning back against the chain link fence. There are four Pirates around the pool itself, between all the sunbathers and Mermaids. I bet squad cars of cops are in the parking lot as well. No running unless it's the absolute last possibility.
Hook smirks and says, "No, I've heard you're pretty intimately involved with Peter."
Hah, intimate. I make a show of confusion. "I don't think so. What's he look like?"
"Don't play with me," Hook snaps, his good hand curling into a fist.
"But it's so much fun, darling," I smile and stand up straight. "Honestly, don't know who you're talking about."
"Search her," Hook snaps to Smee, who stops hovering at the taller man's elbow to approach me. "She should have a ring with his name on it."
I turn and spread my arms on the chain link. "So I'm supposed to spread 'em, right honey?" I ask Smee. He flushes, and I laugh.
"A little less chatter and a little more decorum, miss." Hook turns his back to me when I blow a kiss. "Now, you miss. I don't believe I've made your acquaintance."
"Lily," she says, inclining her head.
"Charmed," he replies. I stare at him, because he does sound charmed. I guess he really is one of those people obsessed with chivalry, good manners, and pinky-lifting. "I don't suppose you would know Peter?" Oh sure. Ask her politely. Pat me down.
"And what have we here?" Smee asks, jamming his hand into the front pocket of my cargo pants.
"Hey, watch it. Do that again, and I'll think it's sexual harassment." But he's found my switchblade.
"And why would a girl like you carry a weapon, I wonder?" Hook asks, extending the blade and looking at me over the tip.
To stick in the hearts of Pirates.
"Someone has to protect me," Lily says, using her self-possessed air to my advantage for once. She smiles adoringly at me, turning her head and half-winking. It's hard to decide who's more surprised, me or Hook. "I think of her as my knight in low-rider jeans." I snort.
"Interesting." Hook hands back my knife, and I stuff it in my pocket again. Bastard. "Back to the question of Peter."
Lily frowns and taps a manicured nail against her lips. "Well, I know some Peters. Which one are you looking for?"
"Peter Pan. He runs with a street gang calling themselves the Lost Boys." Hook reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a Polaroid of Peter laughing, an arm around Romeo's neck.
She pulls her sunglasses down with a finger. "Hm. I don't think I've met either of them," Lily replies, propping the shades back onto her nose.
The picture is a problem. Hook couldn't just find something like that. "If this kid's so secretive and slick on the keeping away from you, how'd you manage to get a posed picture like that, I wonder?" I try out one of Lily's condescending smirks.
"A street boy gave it to me. Of course, the details are none of your business." He looks pleased with himself, but I shake my head with amusement. I'll find out how he got it, with or without his permission.
"C'mon Lily, this pool's a drag." I step out onto the asphalt outside the gate and light another cigarette. "Let's go somewhere else. Where people don't search me."
Lily nods and follows me. "Lovely to meet you, sir," she says as she passes Hook. I swing my bag to the other shoulder and look irritated.
"The honor is mine," he replies, half-bowing. I can't believe it. Tiger Lily, who's an evil, Peter-stealing, sarcastic bitch, gets Hook's respectful voice.
A man's pretending to read some sign a few feet away, but as we move away, he follows. I walk faster. After we're around the corner, I turn to Lily. "I think we're being followed, and we can't go back to Neverland. Not yet."
"Super. So we window shop for a few hours, until he gets bored watching us half-heartedly browse through dime-store T-shirts?" she snaps.
I raise my eyebrows, smiling. At least I have the good manners to try to help her. "Well, I was planning on losing him through running and clever hiding, but if you want, follow your plan. I'll see you in a few hours." I turn and head down the alley while she gapes at me. After a moment I hear her flip-flops scratching on the asphalt as she trots after me. "Be ready to run," I say without looking at her.
I look back and see the stupid Pirate still following us. Without speaking, I grab Lily's hand and break into a run. We flee through a twisting maze of brick, dirt, and concrete. Some men unpacking trucks in front of a warehouse whistle and clap as we dart through their mess. I've got a hand on my bag to keep it from hitting my legs, otherwise I'd flip them off.
One of the nearby buildings has a basement window that's accessible. Nailed together planks cover the window, but it's just a screen. "Quick, inside," I hiss after moving the planks out of the way.
Squirming into the window after Tiger Lily, I grab the wood screen and cover the window again. There's a crack in one side so I can see the street through it. The Pirate, I can see his legs. He stops, and turns, before returning the way he came. After his footsteps retreat, I don't hear or see anything else.
"We should sit tight for a couple," I say, dropping down on the cement next to Lily. This is Vigil territory, as well. Might could start my investigation into the Mysterious Polaroid by hitting up a few friends. "I've got a friend around here I should see before we go back to the Boys."
"What friend?" she asks, tugging on her bracelet. The running away and hint of certain doom seems to have had the pleasurable effect of shutting her up.
"Guy named Sir Henry, the leader of the Vigils." I drop my head to my propped up knees. "He might be able to tell me where Hook got that picture."
"Why do you need to know that?"
"Someone gave that picture to the Pirates. In order to take a picture like that, you'd have to be in with the Boys. Also known as a double-timing spy."
Lily falls silent. A few minutes pass while I listen to my own breathing. "Uhm," she says, and clears her throat when it proves to be hoarse. "Can we go yet?"
The Vigils hideout is a crazy building that must've been a house, with its post-modern look and the white plastic fixtures, of a nutcase art collector. Or something. A kid lets us in the door, and Lily looks around her with a horrified expression. I smile, cause I looked like that too.
"Hey, Spots." The boy looks up and smiles. He's the very same kid I punched at the pool, after he nearly killed me. I'm not sure when he came to the Vigils, but he's been here for a while. "Is Sir Henry around? I need to speak to him."
He grins and tells his friend, "Go tell Sir Henry that Wendy's here to see him." The kid gets up.
"No, no. That's all right, I could go find him," I say quickly. Spots laughs and the other boy doesn't even pause. I sigh and sit in a chair. "Someday he's going to stop this crazy nonsense, and I'll be able to have a serious conversation with him."
The messenger boy returns and says, "Sir Henry will see you now."
Walking down the hallway, straight to the back of the building, I can hear the sound of running water. I open the door to his private room and say, "Sir Henry! It's Wendy!"
He begins to sing some rock song, loud and off key, ignoring me. I skirt his bed, approaching a door in the side wall that leads to his bathroom. Tiger Lily begins to look uncomfortable, possibly even embarrassed. "I'll just wait here."
"Yeah, that'd be good." I open the door. There's a towel on the counter, which I grab. "Sir Henry, I need to talk to you. Preferably when you're not naked," I mutter to myself.
"Wendy? Oh, Wendy!" He shuts off the water. "What a pleasant surprised!" He swings the door open and smiles at me.
I chunk the towel at his waist. "Captain Hook has a picture of Peter and Romeo, and I was wondering if you had any idea how he might've come by it?"
"Oh?" Sir Henry wraps the towel around his waist.
"I'd hate for any more interesting things to leak out of our control."
"You might ask Peter."
"Why ask him?" Lily leans against the door frame. I resist the urge to tell her to back off.
Instead of answering her, he puts a hand on my arm. "I know the story of your first visit to Neverland. What happened. The boy who took the picture, who informed about the party, was in league with Hook. None of us knew at the time, but we've pieced it together. And Peter punished him for it."
I see again, like a movie in my head, a nameless boy hitting the floor, a knife dripping blood. Peter's face as he celebrated his victory. I close my eyes and a shudder rips through my shoulders. When it feels like I won't bolt the minute I open my eyes, I look at Sir Henry and nod. He looks kinda sorry he told me. Lily and I walk out without speaking. I can tell by the tight look on her face she doesn't like that I know something she doesn't, but she's also got the look of someone infinitely glad she doesn't have to bear the same burden.
"Maybe you should ask him," Lily says, nibbling on her Popsicle as we walk to Neverland.
I slurp up strawberry ice cream as it melts all over my fingers. "I guess so. Peter's just been so weird lately, I don't really wanna get into it with him, you know?" She's talking about the nametag signs that appeared over all our doors last week. I knew Michael had been working on some of them, but it still didn't explain why they were there. Or why some are red and some are white. I knock on the Neverland door. "No Pirates allowed."
Tank opens the door a crack, looks at me, then Lily, and says, "Maybe you should stay at her place tonight, Wendy."
Lily makes a disgusted noise. I roll my eyes. "Tank, shove it. My ice cream is melting, and I've already slept at her house two nights this week at Peter's request. I kinda miss my own bed, dude." I gently shoulder open the door and walk inside. "Besides, I have a couple questions for Peter."
"He's a little busy--"
"I'm never to busy for Wendy." Peter smiles and puts an arm around me and Lily. "What's up?"
"The signs over our rooms. What do they mean?" An emotion speeds across his face, but I can't tell its exact identity in the half-light. "I mean, we already know our own rooms."
"Wendy, you should just leave it," he says, releasing us and turning away.
Whatever. "I'm not going to. Obviously it's important. And you've been keeping a lot of secrets about stuff lately." I pause, irritation sweeping over me, before taking a deep breath and soldiering on. "You've been freaking out a lot, too. C'mon Peter," I say with a smile, skipping in front of him and grabbing his arm.
"Wendy, drop it," he snarls, jerking his arm away from me. "It's none of your business."
So he wants to take it there. Fine with me. "It is my business! I live here. All my friends are here. I fight your battles shoulder to shoulder." I growl and stomp behind him when he walks away. "Fine. If you won't tell me, I'm sure Romeo will."
He wheels and looks me straight in the eyes. Then his expression melts into a sadistic smirk, which pisses me off more. "Sure. Go ask him. See what you find out."
I storm down the hallway with a scowl. Now I'm pissed off, and involving Romeo always upsets him. He doesn't like being pressured by Peter and me during our fights. I slow down to let my eyes adjust to the dark in the hallway.
I open his door and look in, even though I can only see the difference between darkness and his white sheets. My mouth opens to say his name, but I see movement and hear groans. Fresh anger explodes in my brain, making my face hot. If he's cheating on me with a Mermaid, I'll kill him.
But I hear the rumble of a man's voice, not Romeo's. Choking on a gasp, I can't move or speak. Oh, God.
Romeo tilts his face to the door and whispers, "Wendy?"
I slam back, catching my shoulder blade on the door frame. The door crashes shut while I continue to stumble backwards. Peter, you little shit. I remember the glee on his face when he told me to do this. I look up quick at Romeo's sign. His name in white, luminescent in the dark. Across the hallway is Jack's room. White too. I fling open the door. Two people, not just Jack. I run to the next door. Cowboy's must be red, cause I can't see it. He shouts curses when I throw open the door. Alone. God, oh God.
I whirl around in place, feeling so trapped. Back across the hall is John's room. White. No, no no! This time I kick open the door, a scream tearing out of my throat along with the pain in my leg as it impacts. I stare for just long enough to find a name for this. Whoring, prostitution. Even my own brother.
Back up, straight into a pissed off, sleepy Cowboy. Peter bounds down the hallway now, yelling at me. Men, Boys, are yelling. Ice cream drips onto my foot, forgotten in my hand. "You, goddamn you!" I keep screaming, anything I can think of, all the painful words I know, and throw what's left of my ice cream at Peter's head. He ducks, and pale pink strawberry cream smears the wall. The cone ricochets into someone's open doorway.
Cowboy grabs my arms, but I lash out with my limbs and twist. He hits the wall with a grunt and a curse. I run past Peter, into the Treehouse, past some crates. A piece of something - wood, a board? - trips me, and I fall to my hands and knees beside the couch. The physical pain jolts me out of the screaming, the gaping hole in my heart that hurts so bad I can't bear to be still.
I cry. Tears run down my face, soaking everything, my hands, my shirt, my neck. I will never stop crying. Never, ever.
Peter is the first Lost Boy through the door, but he hangs back. Romeo, boxers on, approaches me. "Wendy, calm down. You need to calm--"
"How could you?" My voice hitches on a sob, so I try again and shout, "How could you?" I can't stop. The world crashes down. My ears roar. Nothing will be left of me but dust after I bleed out of tears. "How long, huh? I could have diseases! I could die! You're supposed to love me, you're supposed to care. And you could be killing me!"
He bites his lips, and I can't help but think, he made out with that man. He's been making out with people I don't know, and then he's kissed me like nothing was wrong. I thought I was just with Romeo, despite all Peter's comparatively tame advances, when really I've been vicariously screwing strangers. "Wendy, I do love you. But I've got to do this for Peter."
I lurch up and get in his face. "If you love me, you'll stop it. You'll think of me before him." I feel a flush of guilt for the times Peter kissed me, that Romeo let Peter kiss me. Neither of them care. Neither of them give a shit. The thought stops me cold, and for a moment I'm shocked into stillness.
But when Romeo just looks at me, barely shaking his head, the moment breaks. For him, it's always been about Peter. Even I was always about Peter to him. The growl in my chest breaks out, and I shove Romeo away from me as hard as I can. I hope he breaks something as he hits the ground. I wish I could break something of mine, too. Just me, and not Romeo or Peter.
"Wendy, stop it," Peter commands. I fling myself at him. Someone - Jack - catches my left arm, whispers for me to stop. "You're forgetting--"
"Fuck you! Fuck you! You've got everyone I care about. Everyone! They could die, and you don't give a shit." That brings more tears to my eyes, though I fight them with all the burning anger left in my body. Peter always used to take such good care of us, used to be so concerned.
I struggle, straining my thighs and back and shoulders. Jack braces back against my fighting, and I surge away once more. Something pops. Fire, searing unholy pain, races across my body from my shoulder. I shriek and go limp. Every breath Jack takes, pain shoots through me. I squeeze my eyes shut tight against it.
"We all die. Better we die now, young." Peter pauses. "I expect that you'll never do this again." I hear his footsteps retreat. Other people follow.
"Put her down gentle." Every movement hurts. Once sitting, I grimace at Metal. "Is your shoulder out of place?" I shrug before I can catch myself, and I let out a thin scream between clenched teeth. "Anybody got alcohol?"
"Here." Tink rushes over, kneeling next to me. "You're lucky I dropped by, Wendy." She smiles and holds the bottle to my lips. "That was quite an impressive show, my dear."
The alcohol - tequila, I discover - burns and makes me cough. Pain everywhere for that. "Peter won't soon forget," Metal replies, giving me a very unhappy look. "He should be more careful about this shit. He should've told her. Romeo should have told her. Goddamn it!"
I pause in swallowing more tequila. The last time I saw Metal pissed was when I first saw Hook. At least someone's concerned about me. "But he will, for all intents and purposes, forget." Tink offers me one more swig before drawing the bottle out of my reach. I'm buzzed, starting to feel like a fish, swimming in place. "And both of the Boys should do a lot of things."
I realize I'm on my back when Metal plants his knee in my chest, rotating my arm a little way out from my body. He tugs hard on it, and it pops again. I scream, this time wordless, and Metal rocks me while Tink offers me more tequila. Tells me it'll be OK.
It won't.
"Holy mother--" Tiger Lily plants her hands on her waist. "What did you do?" I tilt my head forward with a smirk, and strands of purple hair float into my face. "I don't know what to say."
"Whoa, Wendy. I'm impressed." I glance at my brother, trying not to look as happy as I feel that John's being nice to me.
One thing was for sure. Old, plain Wendy was not coming to the Lost Boy part. Without Romeo now, avoiding Peter for days, hiding out with the Vigils when I couldn't stand Neverland, hanging out with Tiger Lily when I couldn't stand the Vigils. Just my poor, old, prostitute-boyfriend-cheated-on-me self couldn't show up and keep her pride. Of course, two Liquid Cocaine shooters with Jack and Pack helped push me along, and here I am, with bright violet hair.
I'm also sober enough now to grumble at my newly pierced belly button. It itches. A lot. Normally a beer would be excellent to take it down a few notches, but I'd rather be sober and ready to kick ass than tipsy and on the losing end.
"Hey, Wendy!" Cowboy shouts, spinning a basketball on his fingers. "Up for a game?"
"Yeah, I'm up for it." The courts are packed with Lost Boys, Mermaids, Vigils, Wolves, and a whole bunch of kids I've never seen in my life. I corral Spots on my way to Cowboy and Pack for a game of two-on-two.
Pack grins at me, looking up at me through his shaggy bangs, as we square off. Despite my crazy hair and sore shoulder and itchy piercing, I throw myself into the game, slamming into Pack hard, stressing out my legs in awesome jump shots. Even the stitch that develops in my side goes ignored as I pass hard to Spots.
"Hey, Wendy, look," Cowboy says. When I look at him, he jerks his head to my left.
I glance out through the chain link and see Romeo. With a chick on each arm. That bastard.
The basketball hits my stomach, but not hard enough to knock the breath out of me. Putting a foot on the ball, I pull up my tank so I can examine my piercing. The skin's red, but nothing looks screwed up. "Watch where you hit me, dudes," I say to the general populace of our basketball court. I snatch up the ball and pass to Spots for another hard and furious game.
"You guys!" Peter shouts just as I knock hard into Pack hard enough that he falls on the pavement. I reach down and haul him up, watching Peter walk into the middle of our field of play. "Romeo's got some people to introduce to his friends." Peter grins at me, but I don't react. It's better if I just imagine murdering him.
Hah. As if I even was going to throw a tantrum, or anything else. I put the basketball down on the ground and roll it over to Cowboy with my foot. He grins at me. Romeo walks up with his two chicks, one crow-headed like Lily, one blonde, and I hold my breath.
"This is Cowboy, Pack, Spots." He points everywhere but at me. Doesn't even look at me. Yeah, there will be a scene now. I refuse to take his bullshit. "Cowboy and Pack are Lost Boys. Spots is a Vigil." Spots glances at me with a raised eyebrow.
I take a couple steps forward and say, "I'm Wendy. Also a Lost Boy." I reach out and shake their fake-tan, manicured hands. The chicks look at me like I'm some alien creature. I hang out with boys! And play basketball without whining or asking for help! I smirk and step back.
The blonde giggles loudly, and I cringe. It's the kind of laugh cheesy horror villainesses use. "So, you're like, one of the guys?" She and her friend think this is so very funny that they cackle.
I smile and hook my fingers in my back pockets. So easy, it's almost embarrassing. "Yeah, but my balls are twice as big as theirs," I say, jerking my head at Pack and Cowboy. Everyone stares, though the chicks give a freaked out and weak chuckle. I raise my eyebrows. "Don't believe me? I got no problems whipping out to show you." I start to unbuckle my belt, but the girls shriek and back up. Romeo and Peter hustle them away, though Peter's laughing. "Careful, it could be catching!" I shout, readjusting my belt.
My basketball teammates whoop and start the war dance, which I join with a crow. I don't even understand how girls that, well, girly even survive.
"Shit, Wendy. You the man!" Spots howls. I roll my eyes and punch him in the shoulder. "You're definitely the Lost Boys' balls." Cowboy shouts and chases the Vigil, and I smile. I duck out of the way when Spots attempts to use me as a human shield. That was good, a start to keeping my place in the Lost Boy chain of respect.
"Hey, Wendy," Metal says, coming up to me with a smile.
"Metal, baby." I return his smile. He's another of the Boys who hasn't treated me like a leper during my new estrangement.
"You should come see this." He leads me into the crowd. Up ahead a little bit, the two chicks Romeo had with him are telling some sort of story.
"Look, I've seen the girls--"
"Just listen. The Mermaids wanted you here," he says and stops, pulling me in front of him so I can hear.
"--And then she like, started to pull down her pants!" the black-haired girl says, looking horrified in such a way it's comical. The crowd's listening to them, but the Boys and Vigils are grinning. The Mermaids smile, but I can see beneath it to the anger.
"She's just so crude!" the blonde says, like it explains everything. I cross my arms with a scowl. "It's so obvious that she's--" I'm what? Finish that sentence, bitch!
"That she's what?" prompts a Mermaid.
"Well, a whore," the girl finishes, whispering and acting like she hadn't been waiting to say that.
A general uproar starts, as people finally start to get pissed. "Say that to my face, asshole!" Metal puts a hand on my shoulder to keep me from going and punching her into the ground. No one hears me anyway.
"Oh, yeah?" Alyssa steps into the little bubble around the other two chicks. She throws her cigarette down and crushes it with the heel of her engineer boot. Things go quiet again. "I think you shouldn't talk about Wendy, especially here, where her friends are."
"I don't think you should tell me what to do, bitch," the blonde says, taking a step.
Alyssa smiles. Romeo's little mamacita is so going down. "And what, you and your ho-friend are gonna learn me some manners?" The second of Romeo's chicks backs up a little. "C'mon, let's go. See if you can take me out."
The blonde slaps Alyssa. The Mermaid jumps on the lesser chick, bringing her down to the ground. The boys shout, "Fight! Fight!" I chuckle but squeeze through the pressing crowd. As cool as it would be to watch Alyssa take out the idiot, no one gets to fight my battles in my presence. Romeo's struggling to reach the fighting girls, but I get there first.
"Alyssa!" I shout, planting my feet on either side of her hips. "C'mon, honey, let go of her!" I grab her by her waist and haul her back. The blonde grabs one of Alyssa's arms. I plant a foot in the chick's chest and rip her hand away from my friend.
The Mermaid's grinning. She at least was having fun. "Hey, Wendy."
"Thanks." I step back from Alyssa and look at the bruised, crying girl. She stands up, looking at me with a sulky frown. "I love a good bitch fight, but I'll finish what's mine." I punch the chick in the face as hard as I can. She goes down with a grunt and doesn't move.
I raise my head. "I will say this once. You wanna talk shit, fine. Be prepared to take me on when I come after you." I spit on the fallen girl and glare at her friend. "And be prepared to take me out first, or you won't get up."
Shoving through the crowd, I make my way back to the edge of the courts and the outer chain link. By myself, I can't avoid the sinking jealousy in my stomach. I clench my fingers around the metal fence and squeeze until they feel numb. How dare he bring two - two! - girls around so soon after he fucked me over.
"The speech was a little much." Metal leans against the fence. I release my hold on the links in surprise. "The rest, I'd give it five stars."
I roll my eyes. "She still got to me. I'm jealous even though I tell myself I'm the one who was wronged, I shouldn't want Romeo anyway." Shrugging, I angle myself a little to face him. I think of a new topic of conversation. "My purple hair isn't all that's new. I got my first not-ear piercing." With a grin, I push the hem of my shirt up to the top of my stomach. "See, the beginning of my very own line of body mods."
Metal smiles and tilts the steel ring from side to side, to make sure I haven't gone and gotten myself infected already. "Very nice."
I beam up at him before turning my attention back to my stomach. "I'm thinking about one of those spiral glass ones to keep in it after a while. Could be fun." He's still fiddling with the ring, and an uneasy feeling spreads in my stomach. I hear myself say, "They had this pretty one that was a glittery purple, matched my hair." His fingers stop moving and rest against my skin. I let out my breath in a whoosh at his touch.
I look up at him, a little surprised. It has never occurred to me, till now, that Metal might really like me. He's cute, nice, isn't in Peter's prostitution racket, a man of few words, and dependable. I feel a rush of affection that spills almost immediately into lust. Only one way to find out about his thoughts on the matter. Pulling his face close with one hand, I run my other around his ribs to tug forward.
Metal slides his hand across my stomach, resting it against my back. Yeah, I'd say that's conclusive evidence. He puts his hand on the side of my face, a gesture I find really, excruciatingly cute at the moment. I remember when Romeo used to do little possessive things like that. But I don't want cute or my ex right now, so I push my hips into Metal's. He turns his face away from mine, and I lean against him, frowning a little.
"Listen, Wendy," Metal says, quiet and ragged. I hate openers like that. Sorry Wendy, but you're not girly enough, we're not right for each other, Martians are going to eat the planet in two seconds. "I don't want to be the rebound guy."
Pushing away a little, I look at him and say, "Hey, I'm not that stupid." I'm not the kind of person to invite relationships I don't intend to keep. Thus the fact that I wasn't the one who cheated on my significant other. I scowl a little.
"I know you're not," he says, smiling, "but your heart is. I'm not saying never, just not yet."
I frown. Is he playing hard to get or what?
"Pirates!" someone shouts.
Everyone bolts for exits, panicked. I'm far enough away from any of the gates that it'd be nearly impossible to escape before the Pirates could catch me. I skip a few feet out from the fence, then set myself at it. Jumping gets me a couple feet up the chain link. I climb and swing myself over. Metal, who can jump higher, pulls me over to the ground and into a run.
Right in front of us, a car appears. Metal darts around it but I jump onto the hood and run over the top. The Pirates inside stare at me through the windshield. Once I leap off of the trunk, Metal takes my arm and we run. Down some alleyways, curling around, backtracking. A couple minutes hiding in a dark cubby, gasping from the pace. Finally we make it to Neverland.
I'm so tired I don't even care about avoiding anyone. All I want is a chance to sleep for a really long time. I'm still hopped up on adrenaline, but it'll flush out pretty fast, and then I'll need to crash.
The door's open a little bit, and no one's guarding it. My stomach sinks. Out comes my knife, and I move sideways through the door, ready for Pirates to jump out at any moment. Metal mirrors me as we move down the hallway.
That's when I hear Peter shouting. They're in the Treehouse.
With a relieved sigh, I drop the switchblade back into my pocket. Metal holds the Treehouse door open for me, but what I see stops me cold. The most extreme, terrifying déjà vu turns my blood to ice. A circle of Lost Boys surrounds Peter, who's glaring down at a Boy on the floor. I walk up to the Lost Boys, and Peter continues to shout, kicking the Boy every few words.
I look over Cowboy's shoulder. Oh God, it's John, down on the ground, cowering. I've gotta do something.
"So you left a trail anyone could see, and the cops followed you." Another kick to John's ribs. It occurs to me that in order to save John, I'll have to face off against Peter. The thought stalls everything else in my brain. Fighting Peter. I stare, eyes wide with fear. "You stupid son of a bitch!" He throws in a few more kicks, and John moans in pain. He might die here, at the end of a knife. Peter might kill my brother. And beneath the fear and the horror, my blood boils with anger. Peter draws his foot back again.
"If you touch him again, I'll rip your fucking face off." And to my surprise, I discover that I spoke out loud. Peter spins around, shocked. My knees creak but I push forward, past the Boys. "Do not mess with my brother." John groans, but I don't look away from the wild-eyed Lost Boy in front of me.
"Wendy," Romeo pleads, touching my arm.
I shove him away. What did he think? That he could be a whore and never tell me, ignore me for days, and then expect that I'll listen to him? Trust his motives? Unbelievable.
"Oh yeah, Miss Violet?" Peter asks, a smirk on his face. That's all I need, a stupid nickname. "What are you going to do, huh? What're you gonna do?" He turns and kicks my brother in the stomach. I lunge. My elbow cracks into Peter's face, and he stumbles back a few steps.
"That's what I'm going to do, you shit!" Fresh adrenaline melts the last of my fear off, regaining probably my sixth wind this evening, between the basketball and Romeo's sluts and the Pirates.
Lurching forward, Peter slugs me hard in the chest. I shove him back and punch him in the face. He yells something, but I can't distinguish what. The Lost Boys are making too much noise, yelling at me and each other. Peter tries to trip me, but I only stumble. He shoves me back hard, making me crash into one of the other Lost Boys.
"Have you forgotten who runs things around here?" His face twists in rage. He's unhinged, scary-looking. Frightening like he was the day he accused me of giving too much info to Hook. This time I doubt he'll distribute forgiveness, cause I don't think Romeo will stick up for me.
I move towards my brother as I say, "No, I haven't. But you're not all-powerful. We are not your playthings!" He stares at me. Then he walks to John.
"Wendy, tell him I didn't mean it. Tell him I tried, but they came after me anyway," John croaks, struggling to stand. "Wendy, tell him."
Peter screams and dives for my brother, but I'm there to meet him. His fist connects with my stomach. A growl covers my groan, but I manage to plant my feet and push back against him. Anything to get him away from John.
He hits me in the face, and I slug him. I kick a leg between his and haul back. Peter takes the brunt of the fall and rolls me over, attempting to strangle me. I twist one way, probably pulling many muscles in my back, knocking him loose a little, and clamp my hands around his neck. I rock the other way, not caring about any pain past my inability to breathe, and fling myself over him. He skids away from me. Rolling onto my feet with a grunt, I reach into my pocket and pull out my switchblade.
Time to end this. I jump on him as he tries to get up, jamming my knees into his ribs, and slap him into the floor. The knife lays against his throat, not yet pressing enough to cut.
"Now, Vi, let's be reasonable," he says, eyes flashing from face to face around me.
"Like you were going to be reasonable to John?" I punch him across the face then put the blade back against his neck. "Why should I?"
He stops looking at everyone else and focuses solely on me. Tears drip down the side of his face. Used to be, a look like that would rip at my heart. Now it just disgusts me. "Vi," he whispers. Great. That name's not going away any time soon. "You've always been my special girl." What of Tink? I took her place. And what about Tiger Lily? I've been put aside for her now. "I'm sorry, so sorry. You're still - I didn't think. I get so mad sometimes, like a different person. Please." He reaches up to touch his face, slow like I might stab him.
Which is a good possibility.
I move my head away and press the blade closer to breaking the skin over his artery. His hand drops. "Tell John you're sorry," I hiss.
Peter starts to look angry again. He never apologizes, not for real. He makes dumbass, teary ones to me for show, like the one a minute ago. "John, I'm sorry." He realizes I'm humiliating him.
"And swear by your name that you won't harm my brothers ever again." I lean my knees into his chest for emphasis.
"I swear, as I am the Pan, that I will not hurt your brothers."
I note the use of his surname, or chosen surname as the case may be. That's probably some sort of a loophole to the oath. "Y'know, maybe I should just kill you," I say, leaning my face close to his. "God knows I'm pissed enough."
I can see his face when he used to smile all the time, before Hook came back, but it's harder to remember. Fresh in my mind is the crazy wrath, the deep frown, the malicious smirk. My fingers tighten around the knife, and his eyes widen with fear. He didn't think I would do it. A corner of my mouth curls into a smirk.
"Wendy, please don't." I glance at Jack. What does he care?
"C'mon, Wendy," Michael says. His hands are clenched at his sides. He looks too thin, the bones of his face standing out, white with fear at what I might do. Or what might happen to Peter.
I can feel the knot of tension in my gut unclench, adrenaline leaving me to face the situation without the speed, without the high. Now I'm just cold and tired and sad. A forlorn little girl with a knife to a boy's throat. The low immobilizes me.
"Wendy," Romeo whispers, giving me the most unhappy look I've ever seen on his face. Only for Peter, and never for me. Pain flares in my chest, but it's not enough to bring back the fury. "Don't do this."
Looking back down, I meet Peter's eyes and watch him, unable to move my facial muscles even into a frown. His frantic eyes dart from person to person around me. I wonder what the Boys would do to me if I slit Peter's throat now, watched him bleed out over my hands and onto the floor. The image makes me sick to my stomach.
I stand up and, flicking the blade back into the handle, pocket the switchblade. Peter doesn't move for a second then slowly rolls over to get to his feet. With an almost smirk, too. Bastard. My foot catches him in the stomach, hard as my failing strength allows, and he collapses again.
Peter, left alive, will hold a grudge, especially for the humiliating aspects of tonight's events. What hopes I had about returning here are gone. It's not possible to stay. I know in every part of my heart and mind that Peter would kill me if given the chance. "If you so much as touch my brothers or have anyone else do it, I'll come back and kill you." This is my choice.
I turn and leave Peter, the circle of Boys, John, Michael, everyone, behind. No one follows me to the alley door. No one hears the dull slam. There is no one to hear my feet crunch down the broken glass of the alley, no one but Wendy.