“Oh.” He jumps over to me. “I meant nothing by it. How good that she does.” Then he leans in close and whispers quietly, “Just that this one doesn’t like Peter much.”
That strikes me as interesting because, as far as I knew, all fairies like Peter. Actually, all female creatures like Peter, as though he has a magic kind of pull over us. There is an innate assumption that men are immune to whatever it is about Peter that we* tend to love, and of course that’s occasionally true,? but it’s not always （nor often） the case.
Girls might be drawn in by his boyish charm and those stupid stars he has stuck in his eyes, but Wendy says the boys often find that Peter has a gravity for them also. Not in the same ways, necessarily, but in how he can climb anything or that he catches lightning bolts and spears them back at the clouds or the way he flies so low just above the water’s surface that he skims the sharks’ fins the same way you do mindlessly with a stair railing.
My point is, really, that to find anyone immune to him is a rarity, thus I like her already.
I nod. “Well, Rune, I’m entirely delighted to meet you.” I give her my warmest smile as Peter floats on over.
“What are you two birds saying?”
Rune jingles angrily.
“I like birds. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Peter frowns.
More jingles.
“Fine.” Peter looks quite sheepish. “I’m sorry then.” His cheeks are pink now, and I can’t imagine he gets scolded all that often, because he swats his hand. “You can go.”
Rune chimes again and it’s mocking. She grins at me and flits away, and I feel a bit sad that she’s gone.
“Where does she live then?” I look around.
“Just around a corner.” Peter shrugs as he looks at his own bicep.
“Which?”
Percival shrugs. “Dunno.”
“Well then.” I give them all a pointed look, and each of their faces （bar Peter’s） falters at it. “Where am I to live?”
Peter glances around. “Here, stupid,” he says after a moment.
“Here?” I repeat. “With all of you?”
Peter nods again, exchanging quizzical looks with the other boys.
“What will the neighbours think?”
Kinley looks over his shoulder. “What neighbours?”
“I can’t very well stay here,” I tell them all with a look.
Peter shrugs. “Of course you can.”
I lift an eyebrow. “But where would I sleep?”
Peter snorts a laugh as he shakes his head. “With me.”
I blink. A lot. “I beg your pardon?”
All those boys stare over at me, frowns on their faces as though my reaction is the odd one.
“Maybe she’s hard of hearing?” Percival whispers to Peter.
“With. Me.” Peter overenunciates.
I give him an exasperated look. “I. Heard. You. The. First. Time.”
“Oh.” Peter floats over, arms folded over his chest. “What is the problem then, girl?”
“Well—” I give him a cautious look, glancing around at the younger boys before I lower my voice. “What would people say?”
Peter shakes his head with a perplexed smile. “Whatever you want them to!”
I sigh. “No. I mean—”
Peter raises his eyebrows, waiting.
I purse my lips. “A boy…and a girl…in a bed… It’s very—” I trail my eyes over the boys, hoping one of them might jump in nobly, finish this car wreck of a sentence so I mightn’t have to.
“Cosy?” offers Kinley.
I shake my head. “No. I mean—Well—” I stifle a smile. “You know about—” I swallow nervously and clear my throat. “Sex?”
“Yes, of course.” says Percival. “How do you spell it again?”
“S-E-X.”
“Ah, yes. A German word.” Percival nods knowledgeably. “For the number after five and before seven, I believe?”
“It’s—” I shake my head. “No, ah—that’s. No.”
Brodie frowns, folding his arms again. “Well, what is it then?”
“Um—” I scratch behind my ear delicately, and I suppose my cheeks must be looking pink because suddenly Percival takes flight and brings me over a chair.
“Are you feeling flushed, my lady?”
“No, I’m—”
He shoves me backwards into the chair anyway. “Much better.” He smiles, pleased with himself.