Chapter 18
We're in his room when I feel myself. The terrible feeling that accompanies teleportation doesn't reach me, instead I feel a pit in my stomach. Peter hasn't said anything since he saw me.
He stands across from me. His green eyes wide, his coral lips agape. He doesn't say anything.
I kiss him, and he pulls me in. Our mouths move together, not daring to give a second to think.
A million questions erased from my eyes. It's just me and him together. Whatever is happening and has happened can wait. The world can wait for us.
He buries his hands in my hair, and I rake my fingers down his back. The fabric may be old, but it's soft. He's soft. Cozy like a blanket, not like Pan. Like Peter.
I pull him closer to me, tightening my grip around him. He doesn't let me go.
He leans away first, looking at me.
"You died."
The words surprise me. You died. It's not normally a sentence you tell someone, but I've heard it a few times since I've been on Neverland. Jared died, only he didn't. Rufio died, only he didn't. My Mom died, and though I have seen her before that much is true.
I didn't die. You don't come back from death.
I take the seconds I have, letting my arms fall off his, to rip off the grass from my cloak. I let it stay in my shoes, mainly because I don't want to bend over and be awkward.
"I don't think I did." The laugh that escapes my lips surprises me.
He laughs back. "Obviously not."
I don't know where to go from here. The damn holding back my questions opens and my mind is flooded. My voice drowns in them, as I try to sort through what I should ask him.
"Was my funeral decent?"
That was not the question to ask first. I'm an idiot.
He shrugs. "We couldn't find your body, so there was no barge. You have a grave now, I'll get one of the boys-"
"Don't bother, I'll die soon enough."
He cocks an eyebrow, before cracking a grin. "Sure."
"What were you doing back there?" I ask.
I sit down on his puffy bed, and he sits next to me. His shoulder pressed against mine, he sighs.
"Well, we were going to attack the Natives." He answers. "Alex went to find Inali, and Inali told him what happened with you and Walela and-"
"I didn't kill her, did I?" I ask.
He scoffs. "No, if you had we'd already be at war. She just got hurt. Badly. Obviously I don't know the full extent of it. It's not like I care."
"I do." I answers.
He looks at me, puzzled. "Since when did a little murder bother you?"
What kind of question is that? Of course murder bothers me, nevermind if it's a little. Sure, I don't care about the people I killed before, but that's because they were fighting me at the time.
I lift myself off the bed, standing in front of him. "It's not the murder, just trust me."
He stands up, peering down just over top of me. "Then what is it exactly."
"I want a girl." I tell him.
It took me a while to admit it. I don't want just any girl, but one specific. Alison. Two birds one stone; ruin Johnny's life and have a friend. It's a win. My mom wants me to bring a girl here, so I might as well listen.
I don't know what's happened since I've been gone, but things are very different it seems. It could only have been a few weeks I was out, which would mean I've been here a couple of months now. It's been months since I've had a conversation with a girl that wasn't because of an imminent threat.
Don't get me wrong, Walela is great conversationalist. I just have never had a conversation with her without something terrible about to go down.
"Fine." Pan looks at me funny. "But only four."
Four?
Out of nowhere, I feel the weight of a book in my hands. It's bound in dark brown leather, and looks old and worn.
"What is this?" I ask.
He shrugs. "A book."
I roll my eyes, pressing it between us. "And what might be in it."
"A list of profiles." He tells me. "Every lost girl in the world. Granted, I've already taken the liberty of filtering out the ones who don't speak English."
"What countries do you have in here?" I ask, peering around it.
He chuckles. "Do you actually think I know how your world works?"
I guess that's fair. If he is from before the First World War he would have no idea what's going on with the world. Especially not Europe.
"So, it's mine to filter through?" I ask.
He nods. "Go ahead."
He looks at me, opening his mouth to say something, but instead disappears. He's probably got a lot to take care of, especially considering he was about to go to war.
I'm glad I got back when I did. Otherwise, who knows how many people would've died?
Would it have been my fault?
I didn't see Max or Johnny in the crowd. Are they alive? I don't know. I don't know exactly what happened during the Fear Run, but Walela is seriously hurt. Probably not dead, but there is always a possibility.
Crossing my legs, I crack the book open. It has to have hundreds of pages. The first page is blank. The second page is a table of contents.
It has three words on it.
Name. Age. Country. Skill.
No page numbers after it. When I flip to the first page, I spot the first name.
Aaliyah.
It's written in cursive at the top. All the writing is in cursive. Beside her name is a drawing of a girl with frizzy hair and a sad grimace on her face.
Aaliyah.
17. New Zealand. No special skill.
Bounced around foster homes. Ran away.
I quickly shut the book. This is a list of every English speaking girl who feels lost. In front of me I have a biography of every girl's life. The details they'd rather no one hear. Every awful bit of information.
When I open it again, I quickly flip the pages. Skimming, I arrive in the Charlotte's.
There are three girls. Three. The first is 14, from Scotland. No special skill.
Bounced around foster homes.
The other Charlotte is 17, from England. No special skill.
On the run from the law.
I'm the final Charlotte. 17, and United States of America. Magic.
Tricked.
Tricked? How have I been tricked? And what exactly does that mean anyway. Everyone else gets a full sentence in this book, but not me. I get a word that means nothing.
I flip page after page. The more I flip, the larger the trends I notice. The majority have "bounced around foster homes". Every couple pages, you see someone who's on the run from the law, or who's run away, but you don't get much variation.
Occasionally I see a girl with the word "abusive parent(s)" or "divorced parents".
This is book is awful.
And nearly everyone has no special skill. You see a few here and there with something like pickpocketing.
The Georgia from the United States of America for example.
Pickpocket.
I shut the book. That's how I want it organised. By special skill.
The book heats up in my hands. I nearly drop it, but it quickly cools down.
I open it. The table of contents has changed.
Special Skill.
It doesn't list off any special skills. When I flip it open, the first page reads.
Pickpockets.
It's a boring section, with a couple hundred pages. I flip through, letting my eyes dance from page to page. Nothing interesting. It's still organised alphabetically.
It's a large book for pages with such little writing. A small picture, and maybe twenty words per page seems a little bit ridiculous to me.
That is, until I reach the mother of all pages.
Francesca.
The picture is of a girl her long hair up in a braid that runs down the side of her head. She has a stern look to her. Hardened on the edges, like a rock. She frowns aggressively, arms crossed as if she's only known anger her whole life.
15. Canada. Pickpocket, Stealth, Weaponry, Deception.
Abusive parents. Bounced around foster homes. Run away. On the run from the law.
I have to have her.
It's a list below her name, not just one word. She nearly checks off all the boxes that there are. Most people don't even have a skill, and she's got nearly half a dozen. She's the one for me.
I don't bother at looking at the rest of the pickpocket section. For the most part, it's only foster kids and criminals. I'm not one to judge, but I already have a pickpocket. I don't need to waste my others. I only get three more.
The next section is weaponry, which I skip entirely. I don't need a weapon specialist. I live on Neverland, and I'm willing to take the time to train whoever comes next on how to use a weapon. It's not that hard. It's more annoying than anything honestly.
I arrive at the next section.
Medicine.
Now this could be interesting. Granted, we already have a medic. It would be nice to have one on the team. Especially if we're examining one another. It's been months and I haven't gotten my period, but who's to say those who come won't get theirs?
There's only a handful of girls in this section. I skim the names. Nothing remarkable about any of them. Their all between 15 and 17, all with the sad sob story and the same sad face.
Except for the third girl. She looks like she's trying to smile. It's odd how all of these photos are drawn like mugshots. I just chalked it up to magic, not really thinking about it.
Elizabeth.
16. England. Medicine.
Orphaned.
Not many kids have the word orphaned under their names. Even the ones who live in foster homes, as if it's implied they're parents are dead. She's just an orphan though. It must have been recent then, or she's being raised by a family member.
That wouldn't explain why she's lost though.
Elizabeth and Francesca. I've got to remember those names. Commit them to memory.
I fly through the category of stealth. If I've got Francesca, I've got that covered. Same goes for deception.
When I see magic, I flip open the cover. I'm the first page, and I can't help but stare at the girl looking back at me. I'm the only one in this category. Out of every lost girl on the planet, I'm the only one with magic. How can that be?
The pages stick together, and I'm on the final category.
No Special Skill.
What? This can't be it. There's only seven different categories?
I flip back a page, spotting a face I didn't recognise. A special skill I didn't recognise.
I flip to the page before it, which reveals the categories title.
Only one person with this special skill in the entire world of lost girls.
I flip back to the girl.
In her drawing, she seems to be smirking, like she's got the drop on me. It seems as if I've only picked girls who aren't frowning. Nearly every face in this book is sad and teary-eyed and I've managed to find the three who aren't.
Blaize.
16. Australia. Arson & Demolitions, Deception.
Bounced around foster homes.
Wicked.
As much as I try to abstain from going anywhere near fire, especially after the conspiracy, I can't help but want her on my team. Demotion and arson go hand in hand, and I want them on my side.
I flip through the section with all the people who don't have special talents. It's well over three quarters who don't. In fact, this book may very well be over a thousand pages, but maybe only three hundred total have special skills.
I quickly skim over to the Alison's. The Alison I know is on the first page, and I can tell she looks sad.
Alison.
17. United States of America. No special skill.
Abusive parents. Abandoned.
I didn't think about how hard it would be on her to lose Johnny and me. The guidance counsellor at our school set us all up together for weekly meetings. Some sort of safe circle for us to work out our relationship with our abusive parents. It was awkward, and we barely talked during any of the sessions.
Still, we became friends. Which was nice in and of itself.
I shut the book. That didn't take as long as I expected. Granted, I essentially filtered out all the useless information. Non-English speakers, non-useful, et cetera.
Curious, I flip open the book, skimming the pages. I flip to the B's, my eyes scanning left and right.
Brae is nowhere to be found.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, so a lot just happened. So when I said get girls, I meant it very literally. So this is happening. Who is excited for them? I already have a cast planned out that I will be releasing shortly.
Who would you have chosen to bring with you? From their descriptions, which girl do you think is going to be the most interesting? Let me know in the comments.
For now, keep learning things (I have exams coming up so I have to) and I'll see you Saturday.