Planet Neverland: A Space Age Fairy Tale (Star-Crossed Tales)

by J. M. Page

  "Let's stay a minute longer," he said, not at all ready to leave the balcony and go back to life as he knew it. "I want to stand here with you a little longer. The world and its troubles can wait that long."

  Wendy smiled and settled herself into his arms, her back pressed against his chest, both of them overlooking the city, his chin resting on her head. He'd never before felt this total contentment, this sense of feeling complete and whole. He'd never been as unburdened as he was when Wendy was in his arms.

  "I thought Neverland didn't have troubles?" she teased with a look over her shoulders, her eyes twinkling with mischief. This was such a better look on her than worried and disapproving. She looked... free. "'Responsibilities are a thing of the past' and all that," she added.

  Peter shrugged, his arms tightening around her as he placed a kiss on the side of her neck, pushing aside his jacket to press his lips to her shoulder. "They might look different, but they're still there. No matter how much you try to distract yourself... They always reappear eventually."

  She turned in his arms to face him, a frown creasing her forehead. "I was just teasing," she said, looking down at her hands as they splayed across his chest. "We'll save your theater Peter. The show tomorrow will be great and it'll all be fine. I promise."

  He shook off the sudden encroachment of his problems and smiled at her, tucking her hair behind her ear, resting his palm against her cheek. "And you always keep your promises, right?"

  She stood a little straighter, looking quite authoritative as she nodded. "That's right," she said, a grin slipping through the cracks of her serious façade.

  Peter couldn't resist dipping down to kiss her again, his heart soaring, all right in the world again.

  "Thank you," he said, resting his forehead against hers, his arms still around her protectively. "But now we really should be getting inside. Otherwise we're going to have cold food and I wouldn't want you to miss out on the treat of a dinner at Kensington."

  Wendy nodded, taking his hand in hers as she turned back toward the restaurant. "I don't think anything could improve on this night," she said. "But I am starving."

  Peter chuckled, walking back into the restaurant, hand in hand with the woman who'd stolen his heart.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Wendy

  The day of the show could be described as nothing short of chaotic. Everyone was on edge, nervous, knowing how much rested on this performance going well. Knowing the fate of the show, of the theater, maybe even the direction of Neverland, hinged on a spectacular performance.

  "Peter, when do you want me to open the ticket booth?" Wendy asked, holding her breath for his answer. Despite everything from the night before, she was afraid to approach him in his current state. He was jumpier than any of them.

  "Before the show starts," he snapped, not looking up from the rigging he was currently adjusting.

  "Yes, I figured as much," Wendy answered, her hands on her hips. She knew he was nervous, but that was no reason to take it out on her.

  He heard the irritation in her voice and sighed, turning to her, his face apologetic. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just can't deal with anything else right now. This transition has tripped us up the last three rehearsals and I've gotta scrap it. Tink's already had three meltdowns, and I don't even know what's going on with your brothers, they may have already lost it. You're smart, I know you can figure this out," he said, those impossibly blue eyes pleading with her. "Can you handle that?"

  Wendy softened and gave him a smile and a quick peck on the cheek. "Just leave it all to me. I'll get everyone organized," she said, grinning even harder at Peter's relieved sigh.

  "Thank you. I don't deserve you," he said, slumping against the taut lines of rope that disappeared high into the wings.

  "At least you know it," she said as she walked off, tossing another sly grin over her shoulder. As much as she wanted to stick around and flirt with him more, she could see how badly he needed to be alone to compose himself and she had plenty to do.

  First things first: check on the twins. She didn't know what Peter meant by them losing it, and the thought of them trying to deal with the weight of everything on their own, without her to give them perspective, just didn't sit well with her.

  They were in a different part of the wings, alternately practicing and pacing while muttering curses. Any other time, she'd reprimand them for the language, but just this once she thought they'd earned it. Peter was definitely wearing off on her.

  "No, that doesn't work either, we need to—"

  "What if we...?"

  "And then..."

  "Exactly!"

  She had no idea what they were actually saying, because as usual, they were in twin world where they only made sense to each other.

  "How are you guys doing?" she asked, stepping out from the shadow of the new replacement curtain Peter had to buy after the other one was incinerated. She almost felt bad about the expense, knowing the dire straits the theater was in, but she did warn him. It wasn't her fault he didn't heed the warning.

  John whirled around on his heel and hid something behind his back. Wendy didn't even make an attempt to see what it was. If he was hiding it, it was probably for her own good.

  Truth was, Wendy was probably more worried than any of them. She was so nervous for the twins, for their act, their safety — the safety of everyone at the show tonight, really — and nervous for Peter too. She knew how much this theater meant to him. How much saving it from Hook mattered. It was the only thing he cared about, really.

  Well... after last night, maybe not the only thing, but an important one.

  "We're fine," Michael said. "Just working out a few kinks."

  Wendy nodded, watching them carefully. She knew the boys too well for them to have any hope of hiding their nerves. "Well, I just wanted to let you know that I'm proud of you and I know you'll do a great job," she said, the desperate urge to hug them both nearly overwhelming. But they didn't look like they wanted hugs. They didn't even look like they wanted Wendy around at all, so she just stood there, swinging her arms, rocking on her heels.

  John's eyebrows went up and Michael frowned.

  "Wait, that's it?"

  "You're not going to tell us to be careful or try to talk us out of it?"

  "Who are you and what have you done with our sister?"

  Wendy laughed and now she couldn't resist giving them each a quick one-armed squeeze. "No, I know you'll be wonderful. You've grown up a lot and it's time I started to accept that," she said, her throat tightening. She needed to get back to her tasks, back to distracting herself before she was overcome with emotion.

  Michael was the first to crack a smile, but soon John grinned too.

  "Thanks," they said in unison.

  "Means a lot coming from you," Michael added.

  Wendy smiled, her eyes filling with tears that she refused to shed. She held them back, her vision watery. She couldn't blink or else she'd be crying for sure. "I'll always be your biggest cheerleader, you know."

  John nodded. "We know."

  She sucked in a quick breath and blew it out just as fast. "Well! I guess I should let you two get back to it. I've got lots of work to do, too!"

  And she turned on her heel before they could see her emotional display. She did trust them and did expect them to be spectacular after all the hard work they and Peter had put into the act. How could it be anything less than amazing? She wanted them to believe it, and that wasn't why she was swiping away tears as she headed through the big carved door to the lobby. She was crying because they really were grown up. No matter how much she wanted to deny it or delay it, the time had arrived and her baby brothers were strong grown men that she couldn't control and couldn't hover over all the time.

  Now, she just had to come to terms with it.

  She was happy, of course — when they'd been babies, doctors hadn't wanted them to think too far into the future. They'd emphasized celebrating every birthday, every holida
y, every momentous occasion like it would be the last one their family would get together. The fact that the boys had made it this far was amazing and she was thrilled. But it was bittersweet.

  Since she was thirteen, they'd relied on her. Needed her. For the last dozen years, that had been Wendy's whole life. And now? What was her life if she wasn't needed?

  She headed to the concessions stand, organizing and straightening the snacks on display before counting the money and making sure all the prices were clearly displayed.

  Who was she kidding? She was definitely needed. Maybe not by her brothers, but by this theater. Her old job had been nothing more than a way to pay the bills. They probably didn't even notice her missing. She couldn't name even three of her co-workers — despite there being hundreds — and she figured they'd all say the same about her. Wendy who?

  She shook her head, fussing with the arrangements of tiger lilies and dahlias on all the little cafe tables in the lobby. She'd thought that everything they needed — everything she needed — was on Earth. But the longer she was here in Neverland, the more trouble she had coming up with reasons to go back. Was this what had happened to Peter? Was she starting to forget? Her life on Neverland overriding her life back on Earth?

  Would it make her forget her parents too?

  Wendy's throat closed up at the thought and the vase in her hand slipped through her fingers, bouncing across the carpet, leaving a big puddle among the scattered petals of the delicate flowers. She stooped down to clean up the mess, her blood icy cold.

  If staying in Neverland meant forgetting the few memories she had left of their parents, she couldn't do it. Wouldn't. The longer she was here, the more she wanted to stay and she didn't know if that was really her wanting it or the effect of the place on her. It was too much to consider when she had so much else to focus on. Maybe Peter could explain it more to her later, after all the excitement of Opening Night died down and the looming sword of his debt wasn't hanging over his head any more.

  For the next few hours, Wendy made sure everything was perfect and show-ready for the guests. She kept an eye on the twins — who spent all day alternating between stony silence and chattering like chipmunks — and kept a wide berth from Tink while she threw yet another tantrum about her wardrobe. Wendy couldn't even begin to imagine how to deal with that, so she left that one issue to Peter.

  But everything else, she handled. And when it was time to open the ticket booth, she was there with a smile, selling tickets, then moving to concessions, plying people with snacks, and finally, when the lights in the lobby flickered, she opened the great wooden doors to help guide people to their seats. There was a crackling energy in the air. Excitement buzzed like electricity and Wendy could hardly wait for the curtain to go up.

  She was already exhausted by the time the house lights dimmed to half and she just stole a spot behind the last row, leaning against the wall to keep an eye on everything.

  People all around her murmured excitedly about the return of the show, about Peter, about Tink... She wondered if next time they'd be whispering about her brothers, too. Would they make the same splash that the others clearly had? And did she want them to? She wanted them to do well, to be successful, but if the boys got a standing ovation and suddenly became big shots in Neverland, they'd never ever want to leave. And then what for Wendy? She'd have to stay, even if it meant forgetting her whole life back on Earth.

  Her heart tightened at the thought and she tried to shove it away as the lights dimmed all the way. A spotlight appeared on stage, tracking Peter's movement as he went to the center, greeting the crowd.

  From the back of the theater, he looked small, but somehow, his presence still managed to fill up the whole gigantic stage. He looked at home up there and seeing him in his element had Wendy's heart galloping.

  Seeing Peter smiling and relaxed, she was breathless all over again, transported to the night before on that rooftop deck overlooking the city. That was a memory she'd hold on to forever. The magical sensation of being in his arms, his warmth soaking into her, his lips against hers, his reverence when he called her incredible...

  Wendy's fingers rose up and touched her lips at the memory. She swore she could still feel the tingles his kiss had left there. Her lips curled into a smile, the butterflies in her chest flapping madly as she let out a happy sigh. Peter was incredible in his own way and she couldn't wait to see him after the show and be close to him again. Ever since they'd gotten back from their date, he'd been consumed with last-minute preparations for the show and then, with his nervousness, she'd kept her distance. But once everything was done, once he could exhale and relax, Wendy fully intended to kiss him again. And again.

  Peter left the stage, only a smattering of applause following him. As excited as everyone seemed to be, they also seemed hesitant. Wendy scowled at the crowd that couldn't see her in the shadows at the back of the theater. How could they not see how amazing he was? They should have been more enthusiastic for him. He was an incredible showman and so much more. He was...

  Well, Wendy didn't really know what he was to her, but she knew that she had feelings for him that she couldn't deny. Not really. They were too obvious for even her to pretend they weren't there.

  And as much as she hated to admit it, she was quickly realizing that she didn't want to leave Neverland anymore. She'd grown fond of the place before, but with everything with Peter... It all just seemed so much more promising. He seemed promising.

  And she knew not to get her hopes up, but Wendy couldn't help it. Peter was the only person who'd ever helped Wendy learn how to let go and have fun. The twins had tried, of course, but never succeeded because she was always too worried about them. But not Peter. He somehow made her worries flit away, disappearing and leaving her feeling oddly weightless.

  For the first time ever, only with Peter's help, Wendy felt like she was living for herself and not the boys. And she wasn't even ashamed to admit that she liked it.

  Tink took the stage next, and when she did, she came alive like Wendy had never seen before. Gone was the pouting diva, the petulant girl who whined about unflattering lighting or a missing hair accessory. Tinker Bell flew through the air, twisting, flipping, performing crazy spectacular feats and dizzying stunts that seemed to defy physics.

  Regardless of Wendy's opinion of Tink personally, she was impressed. No one in the audience would know about her temper tantrums or bad attitude. They only saw the performer, and she was amazing.

  The crowd seemed to think so, too. The whole theater was filled with gasps and cheers, loud whoops echoing in the space as Tink did another death-defying aerial trick, smiling the whole while.

  Though Peter was in his element on stage, Tinker Bell looked like she was home. Like she was literally born to do this. There was no arguing with that kind of pure talent and charisma, no matter how much Wendy didn't like her.

  Still, she was happy to see the crowd responding so enthusiastically. They were finally entranced in the way they should have been for Peter. But maybe they just needed some warming up. Maybe that's how these things went. As long as the crowd stayed excited when the boys came out, all would be well, she was sure of it.

  Tink was just launching into her finale when the big door behind Wendy creaked open and a nervous looking guy peeked in, his eyes darting around.

  Wendy stepped toward the door, coming out of the shadows that shielded her, and made eye contact with him, her brows going up in a silent question.

  He scurried through the door to get closer to her. "Ma'am," he whispered low enough that no one heard him over the music accompanying Tink's routine. "Do you work here?"

  Wendy nodded, hearing the crowd behind her gasp. She'd been enjoying the performance, too, but that wasn't really why she was here, so she couldn't be upset by being pulled away. "Did you need something?"

  The man's eyes widened a bit and he shook his head. "No, but there's someone at the ticket booth, knocking on the window. I think they wan
t to buy a ticket."

  "Oh!" Wendy said loudly enough to draw a glare from the couple in the last row. "Okay, thanks for letting me know," she whispered, scampering through the door to the lobby. As soon as the door closed behind her, all sounds of the audience were lost, muffled by the thick wood.

  But she heard the knocking on the window and felt instantly guilty that she'd been watching the show instead of manning the ticket booth like she should've been. She'd told Peter not to worry, that she'd take care of everything and keep it all running smoothly and then what did she do? She begged off her duties to enjoy the show with everyone else just because she wanted to catch a glimpse of him on stage, doing his thing.

  Okay, that wasn't the only reason. She wanted to see her brothers, too. Wanted to support them after all the hard work they'd put into their act. A different guilt gnawed at her as she unlocked the door to the booth and turned on the light. Her brothers would be looking for her in the crowd. They'd want to see her there supporting them and they wouldn't find her.

  She'd always been there. Every science fair, every debate team meet-up, every robot battle — though she always found those a bit too violent for her tastes — she'd always supported her brothers in whatever their next crazy idea was. And she was going to miss this one. The one that they were arguably the most serious about.

  But duty called and she'd have to miss their big debut. Hopefully they'd understand and forgive her. She knew how hard they'd worked and hated that she wouldn't get to see the show — they'd been very secretive about the act around her, probably not wanting to worry her after the inferno incident. Maybe the show would be recorded. She'd never thought to ask Peter about that. Maybe she could still see it later.

  Wendy drew up the blinds, a smile plastered on her face. Every ticket sale counted, every seat filled was a step closer to saving the theater. "Hello! Looking to buy a ticket?" she asked brightly, straining to hear the sounds of the audience. She just wanted some indication of how the boys' act was going, but she couldn't hear anything other than the heavy breathing of the man on the other side of the window.