Neverland Academy

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Neverland Academy Page 5

by Daelynn Quinn


  Trappe turned and glared at each of the professors, some of whom actually cowered in his gaze. Smeed himself refused to make eye contact. He was still visibly distressed from his encounter with the boys, and ashamed that he’d let a few teenagers take advantage of him. Trappe’s power over the men was eminent.

  “I want the boy!” His voice boomed like thunder as he released the four simple words. The professors sat silently, none audacious enough to grant a response. Trappe paced slowly but steadfast, never taking his eyes off the professors. It would have been comical, him marching around the conference room in his blue-striped pajamas and cotton robe, had the circumstances not been so dire.

  “We’ve let that boy slip through our fingers too many times,” Trappe sneered. “It’s time once and for all to eliminate him.”

  “But sir,” piped in a man with a face that resembled a horse, “how are we supposed to find him? He’s been here for what, five years now? And nobody has been able to locate his whereabouts.”

  “That’s because, Professor Bradley,” Trappe said fixing the man in his icy stare. “You all have gotten lazy. He’s only a teenager for Christ’s sake!

  “Five years ago that boy was expelled. Five years ago he was just a young lad, capable of little more than a setting a whoopee cushion on your seat. Now he’s on the verge of becoming an adult. He’s bigger. He’s stronger. Somehow he’s grown smarter. The longer we wait, the more risk he poses to us.” Trappe met the eyes of three professors in particular. “All of us.”

  Trappe planted his fists firmly on the table. “Find him. Or I will hold you all accountable for his future actions.”

  Chapter Six

  A Daring Escape

  Daphne sulked. She lay in her bed, hearing the words of her father, recorded word for word in the deep and shallow recesses of her mind. Those were words she wouldn’t forget in a hundred years. So hateful. So hurtful. Did her parents really hate her that much?

  “You’re a screw-up Daphne,” he’d barked from behind the wheel of the Escalade. “You have no respect. No morals. No conscience. How could you do this to your mother and me? How could you do this to yourself? You say you want to be treated like an adult, but you refuse to act like one. A bratty, spoiled child is what you are. A selfish brat with no concern for others. If it weren’t for your mother’s and my careers, we would have let you rot in juvie years ago. We should have. When are you ever going to grow up?”

  Daphne had silently cried all the way home in the passenger seat of the Escalade, while her mother had driven the BMW. But she kept her face pointed to the side, staring out the window, so her father wouldn’t see the tears, though the glistening on her cheeks was difficult to mask in the reflection of streetlamps and oncoming headlights. She refused to let him see the powerful effect his words had on her. She wouldn’t let him win. She was tough. She could take care of herself. It was something she’d learned to do among the rough crowds she frequented in Atlanta. She didn’t need him or her mother. She just needed to get away.

  Daphne had been grounded for a month. Imprisoned in her bedroom until the start of school, and then every afternoon and weekend after that. No extracurricular activities, not that she had planned on any. No dates or afternoons out with new friends. She was being treated like the loser her parents thought her to be.

  When she’d returned home, Daphne had slammed her door with such force that she could have sworn she felt the entire house vibrate under her feet. She’d stood there fuming, wanting desperately to throw something, to break something. Instead she looked toward the window. The same window she thought she saw Finn at earlier in the night. He had been at her house. Maybe she really did see him outside her window. Maybe he was still out there. Somewhere.

  Daphne shut off the light. She sat by the window for hours, searching for Finn, hoping he’d still be there or come back for her. She was ready to go. She didn’t care that she barely knew the boy, nor that she’d be living in a den of rising testosterone. Daphne just wanted out. She’d fallen asleep there and woken up the next morning with a deep red indentation on the cheek where she’d been leaning against the windowsill. She spent the entire day by the window, knowing perfectly well he wouldn’t just show up in broad daylight, but still hoping. If he were to come, she’d go with him and never look back.

  Daphne had ignored her mother when she’d been offered breakfast and lunch. The only thing it seemed she could control was her food intake. And Daphne was going to hang on to every bit of control that she could. She would not eat. She would not give her parents the satisfaction of knowing they owned her and turned the steering wheel on her life. If she was really stuck here, and Finn never came back for her, she had to do something productive. Starving herself was her only option. Her parents would eventually break down and free her when they found how emaciated she’d become.

  When Daphne caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror she was horrified—and grateful that Finn hadn’t shown up. Her skin was pale; her eyes were red and puffy. Vines of mascara had slithered down her cheeks. She could have passed for a new member of KISS.

  After a long shower—the only event that granted her freedom from her incarceration since she wasn’t eating—Daphne put on a black tank top and her favorite pair of long flannel pajama pants, the pink ones with speckled red lips that looked like she’d been kissed all over.

  As she towel-dried her hair in front of the mirror Daphne caught a glimpse of movement behind her. She turned sharply, holding still and quiet. Her eyes scanned the area, but all was calm. Then they rested on the window.

  Daphne dropped the damp towel, impervious to the damage the moisture might cause to the hardwood floor. She walked slowly, but deliberately, toward the window, never shifting her eyes off it, not even to blink. She thought of turning the light off, but she knew she’d have to look away and she refused to do that, even for a split second.

  Daphne twisted the locks and wrenched open the window. The old wood scraped against the metal frame and Daphne paused, hoping that her parents were watching the news so they wouldn’t hear it. The only thing that could ensnare their focus was the news based out of Atlanta, where her father still commuted for work every day. With the window only cracked about two inches, Daphne lowered her eyes and peered out the crevice.

  “Finn?” she whispered. Her request was answered with darkness and the chirping of crickets. She raised her lips to the opening. “Finn, is that you?”

  Suddenly, a pair of eyes shot up in front of hers. “Hey Daffy!”

  The shock forced Daphne to fall back, clapping her head on the frame of her bed. “Ouch!”

  The window screeched as it was forced up by Finn’s hand and he crawled inside.

  “You okay?” he asked, standing above her.

  “Of course I’m not okay,” Daphne yipped. “I just hit my head.” She stared at Finn expectantly. “You think maybe you could help me up?”

  “Um, okay.” Finn grabbed Daphne’s hand and yanked her up roughly as if he were pulling a 90-pound carrot from the dry Georgia clay. Daphne’s expectations of a potential suitor were crushed in that moment.

  “Daphne? Everything okay in there?” Daphne jumped at her mother’s voice and spotted a shadow under the crack of her bedroom door.

  “Who’s that?” Finn asked.

  “Shh! My mom,” Daphne whispered. “You probably woke the nearest town opening that damn window.” She turned back toward the door. “Everything’s fine, mom!”

  “Hide!” Daphne whispered to Finn, pushing him down to the floor and pointing under the bed.

  The door flung up open and none too soon. As Mrs. Werring entered from the opposite side of the room, Finn slid silently and effortlessly under the bed, disappearing under the bed skirt.

  “Why is your window open?” Mrs. Werring interrogated.

  “I was cold. You think maybe you could turn the air up a little?”

  Mrs. Werring sauntered over to the window and leaned out. She wore her suspici
on on her sleeve though she would never admit it. After seeing nothing of interest outside, Daphne’s mom sighed. “Daphne, there’s no screen. You’ll let in the mosquitoes. Put on a sweater and close the window.”

  “Okay,” Daphne said, fighting the urge to argue.

  “Are you sure you don’t want any dinner? I’ve been keeping it warm in the oven.”

  Daphne shook her head, frowning.

  “Daphne I know what you’re doing. It won’t work. You’ll drive yourself crazy with hunger. It’s not worth it.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Daphne grumbled.

  “Suit yourself.” The door remained intentionally wide open as Daphne’s mother left. Daphne stood by, listening as her mother’s footsteps descended the stairs. As soon as they hit the downstairs floor, Daphne shut the door and Finn slid out into the open.

  “You know you have dirty socks under there?”

  “How did you get up here?” Daphne demanded. She plodded to the window and stuck her head out, viewing the straight vertical drop to the ground below.

  “Are you kidding? Haven’t you noticed all the balusters and gables on this house? Queen Anne architecture is a cinch to climb.”

  “Balu-what? Anyway there’s nothing out here.” Daphne took notice that the wall her bedroom was on was the only flat side of the house.

  Finn leaned out beside her, brushing against her shoulder. Daphne jerked away, rejecting the tingles that shot through her skin at his touch. But he pulled her back against him, giving her a better glimpse of his view. His breath was warm against her ear. “There,” Finn said as he pointed to the corner where the covered wraparound porch ended. “I just climbed that. The reach from there to the window isn’t as far as it looks.”

  For a moment, Daphne wondered if she could reach it, being as small as she was. Then she became painfully aware again at how close Finn was to her. It’s not that she didn’t like him. She kind of did. He was pleasing to the eyes. Perhaps that’s what made her so uncomfortable. Because the last thing she wanted right now, after everything that happened at the club, was another boy stealing her heart. And then crushing it under steel-toed boots.

  “Shut up and let’s go,” Daphne grumbled, pushing away from the window.

  “Really?” Finn asked, hope gleaming through every pore on his face.

  “It’s either that or stay locked up in my room for the next month. And who knows what after that. Let me grab some stuff and I’ll be ready.” Daphne grabbed an empty backpack from her closet, stuffed it with some clothes and a few things from the bathroom, and took one final look at her darkened room before fleeing with Finn.

  ***

  “How far is it?” Daphne asked, creeping carefully over the uneven ground in the forest, thickly blanketed with hulking shadows. She’d had serious reservations about joining Finn’s journey back to Neverland Academy when she’d discovered he hadn’t had a car parked in a hidden alcove along the wooded road as she’d imagined. He’d actually walked the whole way to her house. And now she was expected to walk all the way back to the academy through the woods. She felt uneasy enough about that as it was, but having to do it in the dark, with only his flashlight to keep her from tripping over rocks or walking face first into spider webs or stepping on a copperhead was almost too much to bear. But Daphne had decided it was better than going back home. “Consider it an adventure,” Finn had said. “Loosen up and let yourself have some fun!” Daphne tried, but she had a hard time finding fun in the mosquito-infested woods in the middle of summer.

  “Usually it takes me about thirty minutes,” Finn replied, pushing a branch full of scratchy leaves aside for Daphne, “but at the rate you’re going we’re looking at least an hour or two.”

  “Seriously?” Daphne whined and leaned back against a narrow tree trunk. She felt a pinch and slapped her arm. Itchy welts were already beginning to dot her skin. By the time they’d reach the academy she’d be a poster child for chicken pox.

  “It’s okay,” Finn said happily. “I don’t mind waiting on you.”

  “I can’t believe you don’t have a car,” Daphne grumbled. “Or even a bike.”

  “Never needed one. Belle has a motorbike. She’s offered to let me use it, but I don’t see the point. I never need to go anywhere far. Everything I need is at the academy.”

  Daphne’s attention perked as if she’d been bitten by the words themselves. “Belle?” At that moment, an owl hooted through the tree limbs behind her. “How appropriate,” she silently thought.

  “Belle’s the headmaster’s niece. Don’t worry; she’s nothing like him. Hates him almost as much as I do. She’s one of us—the outcasts, that is. The only girl member of our gang. Actually, she’s the one who gave me your address. She can be a little nippy at times, though. Not sure why. I guess it’s just a girl thing.”

  “So, are you two . . . you know . . . ?”

  “Are we what?” Finn turned back questioningly, with a naïveté well suited for a boy much younger than he.

  “You know,” Daphne said again. “Are you and Belle . . . together?”

  “You mean is she my girlfriend?”

  “Well, yeah?”

  Finn exploded with laughter, so loud that Daphne crouched and hid under some bushes. They’d passed a farmhouse not too far back and she worried that some redneck hillbilly might come out with his shotgun. In her head she could hear the haunting banjo from Deliverance. It was no use trying to quiet him. If he’d been laughing any harder he’d collapse from exhaustion.

  “Me and Belle?” Finn said when his laughter began to wind down. “No. Belle’s a good friend, but she’s not like that. She’s like one of the guys. None of us have girlfriends. Well, I did once—Lily, the cook’s daughter. But we’re just friends now. What do we need girlfriends for anyway? That just leads to romance, which leads to marriage, which leads to children, which leads to adulthood.” Finn made a face as if he’d just smelled a pile of fresh steaming dog poop.

  “But you’re practically an adult already, aren’t you? How old are you?”

  “I’m seventeen for three more months. And it doesn’t matter how old I am anyway. Being an adult means being responsible, paying bills, working.” Finn’s voice took on an intonation that sounded like he was about to vomit.

  “But you can’t just stop aging. You’re going to be an adult eventually, whether you like it or not. It’s nature.”

  “In the physical sense, yes. But I’ll never be an adult as society sees it. Not as long as I stay at the academy.”

  “I don’t understand. What does the academy have anything to do with it?”

  “At Neverland Academy, we do what we want, when we want. It means never having to follow rules or do what you’re told. Never doing homework or stupid book reports. Never being punished for having fun. Never falling in love and having your heart broken. Never having any responsibility. Never growing up.”

  “But you can’t stay there forever, can you?”

  “Why not? They’ve got everything we need. As long as we stay hidden and out of sight, we can keep partying like it’s 1999 until we’re old and gray.”

  Daphne’s ears perked. Though her rational side kept trying to tell her that this was wrong, she was too tempted by the seductive nature of Neverland Academy. She didn’t want to have her heart broken again, like Rocks had done to her. She didn’t want to get a job or be responsible. She wanted to have fun and live life her own way, by her own rules, where nobody would tell her what to do or how to do it. She wanted to be free.

  “Okay, let’s keep going.”

  Chapter Seven

  Slave Tunnels

  It was a full moon, the sky was sprinkled with stars, and the former plantation glowed with a light blue fog. Belle had been staring out her window overlooking the garden for over an hour, waiting for Finn to return. Tonight would be the night. The night that she would reveal her true feelings for him. This would be her final chance. He had to know before it was too late.


  Belle didn’t know why she had never told him before. She’d just assumed that he’d get the hint and fall madly in love with her. After all, he had been with Lily for almost five months. If he could love her, why wouldn’t he love Belle? I’m ten times prettier than Lily, she thought. But Belle was not always comfortable being straightforward with Finn. She would be fine until he pierced her with his emerald eyes. Then her knees would wobble and her stomach would drop ten stories. She’d lose her nerve. Tonight will be different, she thought. She couldn’t afford to drop the ball this time. She had to say something or risk losing him to the new girl. That couldn’t happen.

  Finn often went out at night. Sometimes he would hunt or fish and bring back rabbits and crappie for the cooks to prepare. Sometimes he would go skinny dipping in the lake at the outskirts of the property. Other times he would just sit in the meadow by the lake, staring at the stars. Belle knew he was doing none of those things now. She knew exactly where he was and she didn’t like it. She liked being the only girl here. Apart from Lily anyway, but that relationship had run its course and it was her turn now. She didn’t want any more competition.

  A shadow, moving swiftly behind the boys’ dormitory, stirred her attention. She squinted, trying to ascertain whether it was Finn or just a grazing deer. The shadow bolted across the quad to the garden. A second one followed, slower and wavering. The figure turned and looked as if to see if it was being followed.

  Belle dropped to the floor, wounded and on the verge of tears. It was too late. How could he have brought her here? If only Belle had spoken her heart sooner, maybe she could have avoided this disaster. Why her? What could Daphne possibly do that none of the other boys could do? A single girl alone in the presence of all those boys, stealing the attention. The thought sickened Belle and her grief thickened until she couldn’t take it anymore. Her heartbeat raced and her shoulders rose and fell with each labored breath. Her heartache turned into resent, which turned into fury.

 

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