The First Lost Boy (Wattys 2017) ON HOLD

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He was sitting on top of his favorite rock, his leg swinging back and forth as he tossed berries into his mouth. It had been another hot day in Neverland, hotter than usual and the sweet berries were just what he needed in the heat. He was staring out across the island, the high rock allowing him to see over the wide land before him. He could faintly hear the boys playing in the distance and when he briefly gazed diagonally below where he sat, he could see Earl and Will playfully fighting each other with the makeshift swords Harry had taught them to make. They were not as sharp, or smooth as the ones Harry had made for himself but that was okay. There was not much danger around the land anyways, and the less sharp it was, the lower chance of them hurting each other.

He shook his head with a content grin on his lips, the juice of the berries splaying on his bottom lip that he was quick to lick off. He thought about ways to improve their small village, thinking of making some sort of roof to hang over their huts to protect them from the rain that was soon to come. It had been hot, yes, but lately a warm shower of rain had been drenching the island. He didn't mind the water so much, yet he only minded when he found his only pair of overalls that he had left on a branch to dry over night, still soaking wet. He had to walk around most of the morning in a skirt he made out of leaves and vines. The lost boys didn't care, considering most of them were sporting their own skirts of leaves but Harry still felt ridiculous. He was used to his dark cut off overalls and they were all he had.

He was still thinking of ways to make their home better when he heard the loud shrill of familiar laughter that belonged to one of his closest friends. He turned his body on the rock, looking over his shoulder just in time to see Peter flying high above him. His arms were wide out, a beaming toothy grin plastered on his face as he flew right over Harry's head. Harry smiled as he watched him, laughing when he saw him do a flip in the sky with his toes pointed. Peter was always flying. Ever since the day Harry had first taught him, it was all he ever did. It was his favorite thing.

"You know pixie dust does not last long!" Harry shouted into the air, his hand cupping his mouth so Peter could hear him. The boy flew in a circle, curving in the sky until he was facing Harry. He halted in the air, standing straight as if he were standing on the actual ground.

Peter curled his hands into fists, putting them against his waist, chin raising and back straightening in defiance. "I just saw Tink. She sprinkled me."

Harry rolled his eyes at this. He had warned Peter several times not to make more than one trip a day to the pixie dust tree. He didn't like it, he felt that the fairies would think Harry and the other lost boys were using them for their pixie dust. That their friendship was not genuine. It bothered him to think they would ever feel that way so Harry had spoken to all the lost boys, announcing to them that they were not to take pixie dust from the fairies more than what was reasonable. He himself never took a trip to the magical tree unless he really needed to. It had already been a few days since he'd last gone, and he was perfectly fine with making it a few more. Peter, on the other hand, did not care about what Harry said. He did what he wanted.

"How many times have you gone there today?" Harry called into the air, looking up at Peter who was now lying back mid air, his arms crossed behind his head.

"Three." The younger boy answered with no hesitation. Harry frowned at his admittance, feeling a slight surge of annoyance towards the boy that did not seem to care in the slightest about how that might make the fairies feel.

"You know the rules, Peter."

"This is Neverland. There are no rules."

Harry had nothing to say to this, knowing that it were true. It was after all, one of the reasons that he had been drawn to the beautiful island. Rules and laws were what he partially hated about his old life, and having the freedom to do whatever he pleased was one of the things he loved about the place. But having a pact full of boys, all that were much younger than him forced him to put some kind of restrictions. He saw how they all were; rowdy, wild, and selfish. Harry was too, but their age difference made Harry less of all those things. He was the calm one, compared to the rest of them. And without a few rules the boys would create chaos amongst themselves.