Never (Never, #1) (31)

“Everything.”





* * *



* Or maybe it’s eight?

? Or is it twelve?

? Which I know about because of my mother’s time in Peru.

§ Or is it nine?

* Though I do know that it’s true whether I admit it or not.

? Which I’ll remind you are a bit like that water planet I grew up on a few galaxies over.

? I definitely do think he’s dreamy.

* Existential question: If your entire existence has been a childhood, do you still have one?

? Bollocks.

* Which means “very.”

* Or maybe it doesn’t. Who’s to say?

* Perhaps because we’re not on Earth?

* All things being Jamison.

* Extra tall now. I think he grew about a foot through all that. At least in my mind’s eye.

* Always kind of frowning.

? Believe it or not, that means “be quiet.”

* About a week ago, I don’t say aloud.

* Only if he likes you.





CHAPTER

FIVE


“Wake up, girl!” Peter Pan tells me, nose pressed up against mine.

I blink my eyes open and give him a tired smile as I breathe in deeply. Do I smell sweets? There’s a lovely, familiar smell. Something like home?

I rub my eye.

“Do you have sweets in your pocket?” I ask him.

“No.” Peter frowns a bit, and my heart pangs at the frown, as though I’m sad he’s sad. “Why?” Peter asks.

“Oh, nothing.” I smile up at him. “I just can smell pink bonbons, I think?”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Don’t be silly,” he says as he pulls me up from lying down, waving his hands through the air to get rid of the smell.

I have a big stretch as I yawn.

They don’t believe in blinds here. I haven’t had a lie in since I arrived. Quite frankly, I’m exhausted.

Peter thinks sleep is a waste of time. No surprises there.

I partly think much of his attitude comes from years of being grossly under slept.

“The day is waiting!” he tells me, flying up into the rafters and landing on a beam. He perches there, legs kicking and swinging as he beams down on me like my own personal sun, and it feels like lying out on a hot day when Peter’s focus is on you. A sort of saturating warmth.*

“I want to take you somewhere today,” he tells me with a smile.

I sit up, rubbing my eyes tiredly. “Where?” I give him a sleepy smile.

“Just one of my best places.” He shrugs before he triple backflips off the beam and lands right in front of me. “But first”—stern look—“medicine.”

Peter bounds away, and I go and wake Kinley and Percival. I walk to them; I don’t fly. I find flying a bit arduous in the morning.

“Good morning, boys,” I say, brushing a hand through each of their hair.

They blink awake.

“Breakfast.” I give them a smile, and they nod, tired, flopping their heads back down on their respective pillows.

I’ve not caught sight of the hob yet, but I have started leaving out complimentary notes, because their cooking is sublime. I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday, but I remember I could have died over it, and today, it’s the most incredible pile of thick, fluffy ricotta pancakes, honeys and combs and syrups and compotes, butters and fruits. Once Brodie, Kinley, and Percival join us at the table, we each take our medicine.

“It’s not so bad!” I tell Kinley, like I do every morning. “Think of how strong it’ll make you.”

“But I’m strong now.” He frowns, offended.

I give him an encouraging nudge. “Imagine then, all the more! So where are we going, Peter?” I ask him as I bite down on a strawberry.

“Swimming,” he tells me with a smile.

“Swimming?” I repeat back with a frown. “But I have no swimming costume?”

“Why not?” He scrunches his face up. “And what are those?”

I roll my eyes. “The clothes that you swim in.”

Peter rolls his back. “Well, why didn’t you bring them?”

“You told me not to!” I stand up, feeling cross.

So he stands up, frowning defensively. “No, I didn’t!”

“You did too!” I stare at him indignant. “You said you were all I needed!”

“I am!”

Percival leans in towards Kinley and whispers ever so quietly, “Evidently not so.”

And then Rune zooms in, hovering, all sparkles in front of my face.

I put out my hand for her to land.

“I know!” I shake my head at her. “He’s so conceited.”

“Hey!” Peter growls and throws a blueberry at the fairy.

She flies over to him at the speed of light and pulls his hair before she flies back over to me.

“He said he was all I’d need. Can you believe it?” I roll my eyes. “That’s my fault though, isn’t it, for believing him. Men are such terrible packers.”

She jingles.

“Oh, no. I shouldn’t like to trouble you.” I shake my head at her offer. “Well, if you’re sure it’s no bother?”