by Aiden Thomas
“Me either!”
Wendy’s eyes went wide. “You just blindly led us deeper into the woods?”
Peter smirked. “Not blindly,” he denied with a nonchalant roll of his shoulders. “I followed the sound of the water, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Wendy echoed flatly, watching Peter as he edged around the pool. Wendy carefully navigated the slippery rocks and shifting, multicolored pebbles.
Meanwhile, Peter had found an old length of rope, sun faded and fraying, tied to an overhanging branch. He gave it a tug. Some leaves floated to the rippling water below. The branch creaked but held true.
Wendy didn’t like the mischievous grin on Peter’s face.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, but he was already tugging the faded pink shirt over his head.
Peter laughed and tossed his shirt to the side. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked. He stood there, fists on his hips, cocking an eyebrow.
Wendy glanced at his bare chest. It was tanned and toned, with more freckles splayed across his collarbone. A small trail of copper hair led down his flat stomach.
She forced her eyes back to Peter’s. “H-How do you know the water’s deep enough?” she stammered out, cutting a glance to the pool of water. Ripples from the waterfall made it impossible to see down.
Peter shrugged and turned back to the rope. “I don’t!”
“But what if the rope breaks?”
“Then I’ll fall into the water.” Peter laughed, gripping the rope with both hands.
He backed up a few steps and Wendy’s heart leapt into her throat. “But—”
“Peter Pan, remember?” he said, cutting her off and hooking a thumb at himself. “Not afraid of anything!”
Before Wendy could think of another objection, he took a running start off the rock. Hands gripping the rope and knees pulled up, Peter soared out over the water. He crowed loudly and it echoed against the rocky side of the cliff before he plummeted into the water.
Wendy scrambled to the edge of the rock. Below, the water bubbled where he had disappeared. She counted to three in her head, and the seconds dragged by. “Peter!” she shouted. Panic ripped through her. She shot to her feet, ready to jump in after him. She was on the swim team and had taken lifeguard lessons as an elective in the spring. If she dove out far enough, she could—
With a spray of water, Peter’s auburn head popped out of the water. He spluttered and howled, arms viciously cutting through the water. “Argh!” he shouted, voice tight.
“Peter!” Wendy’s heart pounded erratically. “Are you okay?” She frantically searched for any sign of blood or a broken limb.
And Peter was—laughing.
Peter was laughing.
“Holy crap, it’s cold!” he shouted, head bobbing above the surface as he laughed and treaded water.
Relief crashed over her, quickly followed by anger. “You scared me half to death!” she fumed.
Peter smiled up at her, lazily floating on his back. “Come on!” He beckoned for her. “The water feels amazing! After the initial freezing cold, anyway—”
“Peter Pan, I am going to kill you myself!” Wendy barked.
“You’ll have to get in and catch me first!”
Wendy gave him an unimpressed look. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”
Peter’s head bobbed, his wet hair sticking out at odd angles. “I do, yes.”
Wendy glowered.
“Oh, come on, live a little, Wendy!” he coaxed. “It’s not even that far! And it’s plenty deep!” He flicked water up at her and it landed on her arm.
She had to admit, it did feel nice.
Wendy groaned and raked a hand over her face. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said, more to herself than Peter. Wendy slipped her sneakers off and left them next to Peter’s abandoned shirt. There was no way she was going to take off her clothes. If she was going to do this, then she would just have to walk back a sopping-wet mess.
“Yes!” Peter cheered triumphantly from the water.
Her grip on the rope was vicelike. She tried to gauge the safest way to swing and gave the rope a hard tug, just to check.
“Yesssss!”
Wendy couldn’t believe she was actually going to do this. She took two steps back and then ran to the edge of the rock before jumping off. She held tight to the rope and tucked in her knees. When she swung out as far as she could, Wendy squeezed her eyes shut and let go.
The sensation of falling through empty air sent a thrill up Wendy’s spine. A strangled shout caught in her throat, but it was quickly swallowed up by water as she plummeted through the surface. The icy water shot through her like electricity, robbing her of the breath she’d held. She kicked her legs and broke the surface of the water, gasping for air and flailing.
Peter’s crow echoed loudly.
“Holy sh—”
“Told you it was cold!” Peter said, swimming to Wendy’s side. There was a wild, excited look in his eyes. “See! That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he teased.
No, it wasn’t so bad. It was thrilling. Wendy couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt a surge of adrenaline like that—the good kind that made your stomach flip and your heart flutter.
Water lapped at Peter’s grin as he watched her expectantly.
Maybe she could.
“Well?” Peter asked.
Wendy reached out and held Peter’s shoulders. Confusion flickered across his face, then quickly jumped to surprise when Wendy shoved him underwater.
He resurfaced, spluttering and wiping water from his face.
Wendy laughed, the loud sort that came right from the belly. “Come on, I’ll race you to the top!” she called to him. Wendy dove forward, arms slicing through the water as she swam for shore.
“Hey, that’s cheating!” Peter called after her.
The water tasted cold and sweet through her smile.
They raced each other over the edge of the rock and through the water. Sometimes with the rope, sometimes without. Wendy stuck to the safety of a pencil dive, but gradually she leapt with less trepidation and more speed. Peter tried different tricks, from backflipping off the edge of the rock to hanging from the rope upside down. About half the time, he either landed flat on his back or ended up belly flopping. Wendy laughed hard and loud every time. After a while, she wondered if he was doing it on purpose.
Exhausted and content, Wendy floated on her back, staring up at the blue sky framed by the green canopy. White clouds drifted by. Her blue tank top billowed around her, tickling her waist and wrists. Under the water, the rhythmic thundering of the waterfall filled her ears. Wendy inhaled a deep breath, reveling in the sensations.
When she opened them again, Peter was there, a curious expression on his face. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear what he said.
Wendy shifted, lifting her head out of the water. “What?” she asked.
A strange little chuckle quaked Peter’s shoulders as he shook his head. “Nothing.”
Wendy flicked water in his face.
In return, Peter scooped her up, hooking his arms under the back of her knees and across her mid-back. He twisted, dragging Wendy through the water as he rotated.
Water rushed over Wendy’s shoulders and tickled her neck. She let her fingers drag through the surface of the water. Laughs bubbled through her lips.
Peter laughed along with her, eyes crinkled, droplets clinging to his lashes. When he stopped, Wendy still felt like they were spinning. “Whoa,” he chuckled, blinking his eyes hard. “Dizzy.”
Wendy looked up into his face. He hadn’t let go. “Yeah.” Dizzy and lightheaded. “Me too,” she said.
Peter grinned down at her, his soft chuckles gently reverberating in his chest pressed against her arm. Light sparkled in his wet auburn hair. A drip of water glinted from the tip of his nose. Peter wet his lips. She saw his Adam’s apple bob. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words seemed to die in
his throat, followed by a loud, uneven laugh.
Wendy felt like she was swinging out over the cliff again, weightless and short of breath. She couldn’t even feel the water anymore.
Brow furrowed, Wendy glanced down. They weren’t in the water anymore. Instead, they hovered in mid-air above it. Drops of water fell from their wet clothes into the pool several feet below.
Wendy gasped and latched on to Peter’s shoulders. “Peter!”
“It’s okay,” he said, calm and steady. The words tickled her ear. His skin was warm and reassuring under her cold hands. Wendy tore her eyes away from the water below and looked at Peter. He grinned. “I’ve got you.”
Sunlight lit up and sparked in his brilliant blue eyes as he stared into hers. Her arms looped around his neck, holding on tight. Wendy thought she wouldn’t mind gazing into the cosmos of his eyes forever, searching for hidden answers in their stars and coming up with her own constellations like the ancient Greeks.
“Shouldn’t you be saving your magic?” she asked, nearly whispering.
Peter’s dimples came out to play. “Probably.”
They were almost nose to nose. Water dripped from his hair onto Wendy’s cheek.
Was he holding his breath, too?
In the distance, a shotgun boomed.
Wendy’s chest bucked. A violent jolt ripped through her. She jerked back from Peter, knocking him off-balance and sending them both crashing back into the water.
When Wendy resurfaced, she gasped for air. Her heart clenched, her whole body rigid as she tried to stay afloat. She swore she could still hear the echo of the shotgun fading in the distance.
“What happened?” Peter swam to her, face etched with worry. “Are you okay?”
“Y-Yeah.” Wendy’s teeth clacked together. “It just s-s-startled me,” she stuttered out.
Concern dug lines into Peter’s face. He reached out, but Wendy pulled back. Hot shame swirled with ice water through her veins. “Come on, we should g-go,” she said. Without looking back, she swam for shore.
* * *
The walk back was quiet. Peter seemed lost in thought and Wendy was trying to just focus on the back of his neck and not look around. Soaked to the bone, she shivered and trembled her way back through the woods. Peter offered her his dry shirt, but Wendy declined. The longer they were there, the more she felt like they were being watched again. She half expected to look up and see a figure standing among the trees. The trek back was uphill and went even slower than their hike in. Her canvas shoes rubbed raw blisters into her wet feet.
After what seemed like ages, the trees became sparser and Wendy could make out the fence that separated her yard from the woods. A sigh of relief heaved through her. “Finally,” she breathed.
Peter stopped and turned to her. “You should see if you can find a map of the woods.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his soaked shorts. “That would make it easier for us to find our way around and check off where we’ve already looked,” he suggested.
Wendy nodded in agreement. “That’s a good idea. I’ll see if I can dig one up around the house. I should probably head in now—my parents are going to be home soon,” she explained. But she lingered, eyeing Peter.
He stood there, rubbing his arm and rocking onto the balls of his feet. Apparently he was quite interested in examining his shoes. “I’d invite you in, but I’m paranoid my mom might suddenly recognize you from that crappy police sketch,” she said with an uneasy laugh. “And I don’t think my dad would be too excited about me bringing a guy home while all of this is going on,” she added.
Peter let out a short laugh and arched his eyebrows. “Yeah, I’m not too excited about the idea, either.”
Wendy smoothed her hands through her wet hair, pulling out a twig as she did so. She didn’t like the thought of Peter being in the woods alone. “Are you going to be okay out there by yourself tonight?” she asked.
“I’ll be fine,” Peter said, waving off her concern. “I’ll just lie low and practice my origami.” The smile was back, accompanied by a waggle of his eyebrows.
“You aren’t afraid of your shadow?” she pressed, not comforted by his nonchalance.
“Me? Afraid?” Peter gave her a grin, ducking his head closer. “Never,” he whispered.
Wendy bit down on her lip. “Well, if something does happen or you need me, just … throw a pebble at my window or something. It’s the top one on the right, in the front of the house.”
“I’ll be sure to serenade you awake with a flower between my teeth,” he said with a solemn nod.
Wendy rolled her eyes and nudged his shoulder with her own. “You’re not funny,” she told him. Her mouth started to twist into a smile.
Peter’s smile grew wide again, his dimples coming back out to play. Just then, something caught his eye over her shoulder. The smile faltered.
Wendy turned to see Jordan coming through the gate at the side of the house. Even from across the yard, she could see her dark eyes locking onto Peter before frowning at Wendy.
A heavy weight dropped into her stomach. “You should probably leave,” she told Peter quietly. He clearly didn’t need to be told twice. Peter gave her a curt nod, but when he turned to the woods, Wendy caught his arm. “Go around the front of the house,” she said in a harsh whisper. Seeing Peter walking off into the woods would only make Jordan ask more questions.
Wendy and Peter climbed back over the small fence. Wendy stopped in the middle of the yard, waiting for Jordan. She and Peter passed each other. She couldn’t see Peter’s face, but Jordan said, “Hey, Barry,” in a tone that lacked her usual warmth.
Peter gave a small wave and slipped through the gate.
“I thought you were going to call me,” Jordan said as she walked up to Wendy. It was more of an accusation than a question.
“Yeah, I was about to, actually,” Wendy said. She tried to force the most innocent smile she could muster, but it felt all wrong. She never lied to Jordan like this. “Me and Barry were just…” She trailed off.
“Going for a stroll through the woods?” Jordan suggested with a lift of a skeptical eyebrow. She looked Wendy up and down. “You’re soaking wet!” She pulled a leaf from Wendy’s hair, then huffed. “What is going on with you, Wendy?” she asked. Jordan had her own brand of “angry” that lacked any real heat and was mostly a cover for concern.
“What do you mean?” Wendy didn’t like feeling chastised.
“You’re not acting like yourself at all! You’re avoiding me—”
“I’m not avoiding you!” Now it was Wendy’s turn to cross her arms.
Jordan ignored her and lifted her palms. “Listen, I’m all about you branching out and getting a secret boyfriend—”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” Wendy spluttered. “He’s—he’s just—”
“Some stranger you’re gallivanting off into the woods with?” Jordan pressed. “I don’t get it, this isn’t like you! You’re not calling me back, or telling me when you get called down to the police station?”
“They just wanted to ask me questions about Alex.”
“Yeah, Alex, from the hospital where we both volunteer,” Jordan pointed out. Her arms fell to her sides. “How could you not come and talk to me as soon as you found out he went missing?” she asked. Her brown eyes searched Wendy’s for an explanation.
Wendy didn’t have one.
“I’m your best friend,” Jordan continued, voice quivering. “You used to say that I was the only person you felt like you could rely on, remember? And now you’re, what, going into the woods with some guy you just met? Wendy, you’re terrified of the woods!”
The maddening part was that she knew Jordan was right.
Wendy groaned and pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. What could she tell Jordan? She couldn’t explain herself, there was no way. She didn’t want to hurt Jordan, but she also couldn’t tell the truth. Jordan would either think she was having another mental breakdown or that she
was flat-out lying. “You wouldn’t understand,” was all she could say.
“Look, I know you’re going through hell right now—the missing kids, your brothers—” Wendy’s eyes burned. “Just the other day you came to my house practically in tears over those missing kids and the detectives showing up at your door. You’ve always been able to talk to me about what’s going on!”
“I know, but this is different!” She didn’t like being yelled at by Jordan, and she wanted to push back. They never got into shouting matches. It made her feel like she was talking to her father, not her best friend. “You say you know what I’m going through, but you have no clue, Jordan!” Wendy didn’t want to yell, but she couldn’t help it. She felt backed into a corner.
“We’ve always been able to talk to each other about anything,” Jordan pressed on. “When we’re stressing out together about college, when me and Tyler are having a fight.” Jordan’s brow furrowed and the anger in her voice broke when she said, “Or when I’m missing my mom—”
The tension in Wendy shattered. “This is bigger than that, Jordan!” she shouted. Jordan took a step back, as if Wendy had just slapped her across the face.
Wendy regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth, but she couldn’t stop herself. Everything that had built up swiftly unraveled. “And I don’t expect you to get it! Just because you listen to me doesn’t mean you can understand because you can’t, you just can’t!”
Jordan reeled back another step. Her cheeks were flushed. Her brown eyes shone in the waning sunlight. “Don’t shut me out, Wendy,” she said. Her tone was quiet and resigned. “If you don’t want to tell me what’s really going on, I can’t make you. But I’m worried about you.” She glanced up at Wendy. “You need to be careful. Those missing kids haven’t been found yet, and, for all we know, you might be in danger.” Jordan turned around and started to walk away.
This was all wrong. Wendy needed to stop her and apologize. “Jordan—” She reached out to catch her elbow, but Jordan was too quick.
“Call me when you actually feel like being real with me,” she said over her shoulder, rubbing at her eyes. She rounded the gate and then was gone.
