“Ummm…” The server holds a pencil over a notepad, unsure of what to write. “French…fries?”
“Matchsticks,” I tell the girl.
“Right. Of course.” She scribbles that down.
“And a meat sandwich.” I turn to Darling. “What do you like on your burgers?”
“Lettuce?”
I can’t help but laugh. “We don’t put leaves on food here.”
She grumbles. “Pickles?”
“That we do have.”
“Ketchup?”
“Tomato syrup,” I translate to the server.
She nods and continues scribbling.
“Tomato syrup?” Darling screws up her mouth, aghast. “What in the hell is that?”
“It’s sweet like your ketchup. Just trust me.”
“Fine.” She looks up at the server. “A meat sandwich please with pickles and tomato syrup.”
“Coming right up!” The girl practically jogs away and disappears to the kitchen.
“I’m a little terrified of what will come out of that kitchen.” Darling gets in close to my side and I immediately like her nearness.
“Your realm feeds you in fake food and processed garbage and you’re afraid of Neverland tomato sauce?”
“You said syrup.”
I like her wonder and her doubtfulness. She is adorable when she’s unsure because most of the time she likes to pretend she has everything in hand.
My drink arrives by the barkeep and he says nothing as he sets it down and spins and hurries away.
I sniff the glass for poisons. Neverland is full of my enemies now. I can never be too sure.
There is only the spiciness of Winterland and the sharpness of the alcohol.
I take a sip. The heat is welcomed as it pools in my gut.
“Let me try.” Darling takes a drink. “Ohhh.” Her mouth pops open while her eyes squint shut. “That’s like drinking Christmas in a glass. But heavy on the nog. Did she say it’s from Winterland?”
“Yes.”
“And what is that?”
“Another island.”
“There are seven, right?”
“There are.” I take another drink. There is likely no way I will ever be drunk again. The shadow won’t allow it and I suppose it’s just as well, but I will enjoy the burn just the same.
“What are the others besides Neverland and Winterland?” Darling asks.
“Winterland and Summerland are on opposite ends of the island chain. Between them is Darkland, Vane’s homeland. Neverland. Pleasureland—”
Darling chokes on her second drink of my glass.
“Lostland and Everland.”
“Did you say Pleasureland?”
“I did.”
“But…how?”
“It is a place where all your pleasure fantasies come true.”
“I need to go there.”
“You absolutely do not.”
She frowns up at me and pushes out her puffy bottom lip. “Why not?”
“Because it is a wild and reckless place and addictive like a drug. You go to Pleasureland, you don’t come back from it.”
Darling lets that sink in.
“I still can’t believe any of this is real. When my mom told me about you and the Lost Boys growing up, I thought it was a story she read in a book. Now I’m in an alternate realm fucking a myth about to be served tomato syrup.”
My hand immediately goes to her thigh and I push up her dress to feel the warm flesh between her legs. “Fucking a myth? I think the myth is fucking you.”
She snorts. “Keep telling yourself that.”
I smile at her. She is a fucking delight.
Her food comes out fresh and steaming. The French fries, as she calls them, are golden brown and glisten from the oil and salt. The sandwich—burger—sits between two slices of homemade bread and the rich tomato sauce drips from it.
“Oh god. This looks amazing.” Darling pulls the plate closer and tests a matchstick that she runs through the pool of sauce on the side. The fried potato crunches between her teeth and I know the instant the tomato syrup hits her taste buds because her eyes pop open.
“See?” I can’t help myself.
“Wow.” She swallows and grabs another and looks at the server still standing there waiting for a dismissal. “Really, wow. Thank you…”
“Darlina.”
Darling stops chewing.
“Sorry,” the server says. “Maybe that’s weird? It’s a popular name on Neverland.”