Inside the café, the walls were painted orange and the tables and chairs were all mismatched. A small teapot with a succulent inside propped up the menu on their table. They sat in the back at one of the many windows that looked out over the river. String lights adorned the walls and windows all year round. Wendy could hear the faint barking of seals in the distance.
She’d only taken a few bites of her sandwich, and her cup of tea was doing little to settle the twisty feeling in her stomach. Wendy was exhausted and not up for making small talk and pretending everything was okay when it wasn’t okay, and she wasn’t okay.
Luckily, Jordan spent most of the time talking through mouthfuls of turkey panini about an intramural swim team she was on for the summer, her mental shopping list for moving into the dorms, and the latest horror movie she and Tyler had seen. Wendy traced her finger along the Coffee Girl logo on her mug—a profile of a woman sipping from a cup—and stared out the large window facing the Columbia River.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jordan asked again when they were in her car, driving back toward the hospital so Wendy could pick up her truck. Wendy had been watching the shipping liners travel down the river, when Jordan’s question pulled her out of her thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, rubbing her temples. She was tired and it made her prickle with fatigue and annoyance.
But Jordan was well trained in the art of reading Wendy Moira Angela Darling. “Well, you haven’t actually made eye contact with me since we left the hospital earlier,” she started to count off on one hand, guiding the steering wheel with the other. “All you’ve said to me is a variety of yeah s, hmms, and oh s.” Her eyebrows set in a hard line.
Wendy wasn’t used to seeing Jordan get upset like this. Usually when she closed up, Jordan was gentle and didn’t push her too far. Jordan was frustrated with her.
“You hardly ate anything, and you keep pulling on your hair, which you only do when you’re upset.”
Wendy’s fingers were halfway through her hair. She stopped and dropped her hands in her lap.
Wendy looked over. Jordan’s eyebrows were raised expectantly.
Jordan was the one person who she felt she could really trust in the world. She had never judged Wendy or believed the gossip when it spread through town. Jordan was Wendy’s first line of defense, the only one who stood up for her when even her parents backed away.
Jordan was the only one Wendy felt she could talk to about the things that haunted her: her brothers, the woods, and her parents. But the events of the last two days were in a whole other realm. How was she supposed to tell Jordan about Peter? If she said that he had showed up in her backyard and then at the children’s wing of the hospital, Jordan would probably freak out. Any sane person would. Jordan would just see him as some guy who’d escaped from the hospital and who the cops were looking for.
And the crappy part was that when she thought of it that way, those were perfectly logical reasons to be scared of Peter. Or at the very least wary.
And what about everything else Peter had said? What would Jordan say if Wendy told her Peter claimed to be the Peter Pan? Or that his shadow had gone missing and was kidnapping kids? Or what about the fact that she was actually starting to believe him? Wendy almost laughed.
There was no way Jordan would believe her. Wendy was alone in this.
“Wendy?” Jordan looked genuinely concerned now as she tried to get a proper look at Wendy while still keeping an eye on the road. Wendy knew if she didn’t reassure her soon, Jordan might crash the car. Or worse, say something to her parents.
“Do you ever…” Wendy cleared her throat to find her voice. “Do you ever wonder if there’s … more to the world than we know?”
Jordan pulled up into the hospital parking lot near her truck and put the car in park. She twisted in her seat to face Wendy and canted her head to the side. “Like what? Aliens?”
“No, not aliens—”
“’Cause I definitely believe in aliens.”
Wendy fixed her with a withering look.
“All that space and unexplored planets up there?” Jordan went on, waving her hand through the air. “You can’t tell me there’s no other life out there—”
“No, not like aliens,” Wendy cut her off, feeling frustrated.
Jordan’s laugh died off.
“Like magic,” she finally said, fiddling with the strap of her bag.
Jordan’s expression pinched in confusion. “Like…？”