by Xavier Neal
It doesn’t matter anymore. Somewhere between the sheets of lies and truths, I got lost. I’m sick of trying to be who Justin wants me to be, who my parents want me to be, who Peter needs me to be! I’m sick of it all. It’s my life, and if I don’t get a hold of it now, I might not ever. I’m stealing that painting, not for Justin, not to get back at my dad, but for me. Everyone has had the power in my life; it’s about time I take it back. My way.
Chapter Ten
The day of the heist, I’m sitting at my desk with my sketchbook open to that first picture of Justin. After a day of isolation, I told my parents I thought I was getting the flu. I returned to school with my mind clear about one thing. I tap the side of my desk, thankful that it’s been an easy day to avoid everyone. Finally looking up, my attention turns to the dry erase board at the front of the room, where there are words that weren’t there before.
Turn around.
Annoyed, I snap without turning around. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to tap me on the shoulder like a normal person?”
“I would’ve, but this is more natural to me.”
“Conning a girl into doing everything you want?”
The words roll right off my tongue as I shove my sketchbook into my backpack and stand up.
“Peyton, I can explain.”
“That lying is like breathing to you? Yeah, I don’t really need an explanation for that.” I start to storm off toward the door when the Lost Boy crew begins multiplying.
“There you are,” Aiden huffs breathlessly.
“Really?” I toss my head over my shoulder to look at him. “You couldn’t do your dirty work yourself? You had to have help? Geez, you’re so pathetic that…”
“I didn’t send him here.” Justin hops over the desk. “What is it?”
Between pants, Aiden manages to say, “We’ve got trouble.”
Aiden moves out of the way just in time for a flood of Dark Watchers to march themselves in as I move my body backward toward Justin. Before I realize it, we’re completely surrounded with an all too familiar face staring at me.
“Well, hello again.” Lola hums, this time in a pair of ridiculously tight leather pants and a matching black leather top.
“Seriously?” My head turns to Justin. “Would it kill you people to use a phone?”
“Hi, Justin,” she coos sweetly while fiddling with something in her pocket.
He gives her a wave and asks, “What can we do for you today?”
“I was just asking your friend Aiden over there for the painting.”
“I told you we don’t have it.” His voice shakes, drawing my attention to the bruises on his body.
“Yes, that’s the lie you keep telling me,” she snaps at him before turning to us. “Now, I know you may think that because I’m a girl, I’m stupid.”
“That’s not why I think you’re stupid,” my voice interrupts as my backpack lands on the ground.
“Excuse me?” She takes a step closer to me. “Um, Peyton,” Aiden whispers.
“Aside from wearing what looks like a Catwoman costume, I think you’re stupid for continuing to chase us. If we had the painting, do you think we would still be here?” I find myself strolling toward her. “If we had the painting, dearest, you’d be eating our dust on our way to Neverland. Now, you and the watchers need to get out of my face before I do something about it.”
Aiden croaks, “Is she feeling okay?”
“Yeah,I don’t think so,”Justin says,slightly distraught. “Like what, princess?” The words roll off her mouth. “Dagger.” My hand extends toward Justin who tosses me one without hesitation.
“Oh, the little girl wants to play.” She nods condescendingly at me, backing up slowly. “Well, before I break a nail putting you in your place, let’s see what you’ve got.” Her hand makes a tornado motion, and the Dark Watchers attack us.
The first Dark Watcher that goes after me receives a quick fist to the face and slash across the neck. Following that, I shove the dagger into several rib cages, causing repeated puffs of smoke. Once, I’m grabbed from behind, and I twist the knife and stab it directly backward, causing the Dark Watcher involved to disappear. “Practice much?” Aiden asks. Turning to Justin, he asks, “How pissed off at you is she?”
Impressed and more than a little surprised that I’ve held my own, I toss my hands, “You ready to dance, sweetheart?”
With a crooked smile, once again, her hand swirls in the tornado motion, and the Dark Watchers hold off on attacking. “Another day and another time. I want that painting.”
“Well, thanks to you and your friends, that painting is on its way up north. Hello, Canada.” I toss the dagger back to Justin. “Had you waited, you might have had a chance at it.”
“Canada?” she gasps. “When did it leave?”
“At 10:00 a.m., bright and sharp, on an armored truck.” I walk backward, grab a large envelope from my backpack, and toss it at her. “There’s your chance to catch it before it gets out of reach. They’re going to make a stop for gas at that station. It’s what they’re routed for.”
“Peyton,” Aiden calls out to me.
“What? I may not like her, but at least she’s been honest about the whole thing from the beginning.” My words cause Justin to clasp his head in his hands.
“Like I said, we don’t have the painting. I suggest you take that information and show Alex how you have one up on the infamous Lost Boys.” My shoulders shrug, and Lola fans herself with the envelope.
“How do I know you’re not lying? How do I know you’re not still working with them?”
“I slipped you a little extra present in there.” The grin on my face grows wide. “Directions to their ship. Hopefully, you can hinder them from catching up. Enjoy.”
With a proud smile, she tilts her head at us. “Thanks. Hey, Justin, now would be a good time to follow in your girl’s footsteps and switch sides.”
“You know,” Justin tosses a hand in the air, “I’m kind of a loyal guy. Once I commit to someone, I do everything in my power to stay that way.”
I mumble under my breath, “That’s new.”
“Chump.” Lola shrugs and saunters out of the building with the Dark Watchers at her side.
Once they’re out of sight, Aiden shrieks, “Peyton, how could you!”
“How could I what?” I grab my backpack off the ground.
“Just give her that information,” he squeaks.
I raise my eyebrows at him. “Aw, honey, you think that was real? She’s about to try to hit a federal bank truck, so that’ll keep them busy for quite a while.”
“Wow.” Aiden is taken back for a second. “And the ship?”
“Jimmy called a couple of days ago. Your new ship is ready. I overheard Eiden on the phone the day of the carnival.” My hands innocently toss in the air.
“So all that was…”
“A distraction.”
“That was good.”
“I learned from the best.” My eyes meet Justin’s, who looks as if those words have broken his heart.
Sensing this isn’t a group moment, Aiden pipes in, “Hey, I’m going to head to the apartment to get ready.” Justin gives him a slight nod and stares at me as Aiden exits. Once we’re alone, he says, “Peyton, I
can explain.”
“I’m sure you can. I’m sure it’s great. I’m sure it’s the best sob story you cooked up this decade, but I really don’t care.” My head nods slowly.
“You don’t care?”
“I don’t care about you or this stupid crime that could get me killed or thrown in jail or…”
“You don’t care?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Then, why’d you do that?”
“What?”
“With Lola, just now? The decoy? Why?” My shoulders shrug, and he snaps, “Peyton, that’s your problem. You run from things you care about.”
“How would you know?”
“I…”
&n
bsp; Aggravated, I toss my backpack on the ground. “You wouldn’t! Besides, even if I were, you have no room to talk!”
“I didn’t care about anything!” he yells in return. “My parents were gone. My life as I knew it was gone! So yeah, I made some poor choices while I was grieving. In order to hide the pain, I did what I thought felt good, and then something clicked in my brain. I didn’t want to be who I was anymore, so I reinvented myself as the con artist.”
“And?”
“It was fun. It was exciting, and to be honest, I am damn good at it, but I got in too deep. I hit a point where my only option other than a lifetime jail sentence was escaping to Neverland. I thanked my lucky stars I was given the offer. But Peyton, it feels like just another jail sentence with a different warden. It didn’t seem like that mattered until I met you.”
“Aw, the Tin Man wanted heart?” The lack of sympathy in my voice surprises him.
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Before you, there was no reason to need to think twice, and all of sudden, I met this wonderful girl who viewed the world in a different light. You saw the world through pure eyes. You saw the beauty in it the same way you practice your art. It was refreshing and intriguing. Then, here I am trying to follow instructions from Peter and falling in love with you. All of a sudden, I’m questioning my own loyalty.”
“But…”
“Then, you throw it in my face: I’m not a normal boyfriend, and it burns because you’re right. I’m not. And I’ll never be. I gave up on myself before I had the chance to realize there are people like you in this world. Peyton, if I had known you existed sooner, I would’ve passed on being a Lost Boy.”
“Likely story,” I mumble.
“You don’t believe me?”
“No! I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know if you were telling the truth about how I made you feel or conning me to keep me close.”
“Drug me.”
In total aggravation, I snap, “What?”
Justin pulls out a small, dark purple, velvet bag from his jacket pocket and tosses it at me. “Drug me. Test me. Pour it into my drink the same way Peter did. Then, ask me if I was lying when I said you were beautiful. Ask me if I was lying when I told you that you were funny, that I thought your paintings were amazing.”
Twirling the packet around, I continue to listen. “Ask me if I was lying about my father, my grandfather, and my mother. Ask me whether I was lying about the secrets I shared with you and about my personality. Ask me whether I was lying about my past. Ask me if I was lying about how I care for you. Do it! It doesn’t matter to me because I have nothing to hide anymore.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“Why do you want the painting?”
“I don’t. Peter does.”
“Why?”
Shrugging, he sighs. “There are secrets in this world that you only find out if you aren’t in it any more yourself.”
My lips press together. “Justin, do you know anything about the Precious Society?”
With a slow nod, he sighs. “Each Lost Boy can only tell his own story.”
“Peter.” The name rolls off my tongue.
“Look, Peyton, I completely understand if…”
“No.” I cut him off more, determined more than ever to steal the painting. “I’m in. Pick me up at seven.” I grab my bag, which landed next to his feet, stumble on my way up, and fall right into his arms. “You, okay?” he asks.
With a soft smile, I sigh. “You’re always there to catch me when I fall.”
“As long as you let me.” The answer is followed by him leaning his forehead against mine. “Peyton, I…”
“Don’t.” My head shakes slowly from side to side, fighting the tears that were my best friend the day before. “Don’t.”
His hand gently lifts my chin up; his eyes are magnets to mine. “I’d give it all up for you if I could. I love you.”
My bottom lip quivers as I slip my body away from him. “See you tonight.”
Quickly, I move out of the room and make a beeline straight for my apartment. The moment I open the door, I notice my father sitting on the couch, tying his shoelaces. He looks up and proudly yells, “There’s the birthday girl!”
“Not until 12:05, Dad,” I correct him.
“Close enough.” The response feels suspicious. “Are you all packed? You know your flight is first thing tomorrow morning 6:00 a.m.”
“I know.” My bag drops by the stool I’ve placed myself on. “Dad, can I ask you something?”
“Of course, love.”
“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if you weren’t an artist?”
“No.” He leans against the back of the couch. Baffled by the question, he continues, “It’s in our blood. Art is what we do, Peyton. We were meant to be artists.”
“Does a person always have to do what she’s expected to?”
His head tilts to the side as he debates, “If it’s her duty.”
“How would someone know that unless she was told? And what kind of duty are you forced to have without signing up for it?”
“Sometimes, there are bigger things at play than us. Who are we to destroy those things that were lifetimes in the making?”
Realizing my father is really listening, I play back. “What’s wrong with change?”
“Unnecessary change can be destructive, Peyton.”
“Whose to declare if it’s unnecessary, Dad?”
“Is there something you want to tell me?”
My mother strolls out of their bedroom gripping her clutch and smiling proudly, “Hey, sweetie, you ready for the museum tonight?”
“I am. You look radiant, by the way.” My compliment makes her giggle.
“Oh, stop it.” She snuggles beside my father. “I’m so glad this trip is only a few cities over, you know? No ridiculously long car rides. I’m ready to take a break from traveling after all this is said and done.”
“Me too,” my father concurs.
Switching gears, Mom hums. “Are you all packed for your flight in the morning?”
“Almost.”
“It’s so hard to think that, almost eighteen years ago, I was blessed with a precious darling like you.” The words cause my father to give her a look that raises a red flag to me. “Well, let’s go.”
“We’ll be home late tonight,” my father reminds me. “Just go ahead and put your suitcases out here by the front door, so I can load them into the car in the morning, all right?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t stay out too late.”
“I won’t.”
“And don’t misplace your plane ticket.”
“I won’t.”
“Remember to set your alarm.”
“I will.”
“And…”
“Oh, give it a rest,” my mother fusses as they head toward the front door.
“Any more to remember and she’ll probably forget.”
I stand and escort them over to the front door. Staring at my mother, I admire the way our soft features match, her sweet smile that always projects a loving demeanor, and the confidence that radiates from her, something I think I’ve finally learned to do myself. I lean in and wrap both my arms around her for a long hug.
Afterward, I pull away and look at my father. His attitude toward me lately has begun to change in a way I’m not a 100 percent sure how to handle. While I still see the loving, playful, and caring man who raised me to be independent and follow wherever the wind takes me, I’ve begun to see a man who resembles more of a warden with chains and locks that I didn’t know existed. I place my arms around him, hug him tightly, and let out a soft sigh.
Pulling away, I swallow a few tears in my throat and smile. “Have a great time. I love you both.”
Not sensing anything is wrong, my mother says, “I love you too.”
She prances toward the front door, while my father lingers for a minute. “Peyton, are you sure there’s nothing you wan
t to tell me?”
Bravely, I ask, “Is there something you want to tell me?”
His patent leather dress shoe taps the floor for a moment. “I love you. Remember that.”
I nod and watch the two of them leave, knowing the life I once knew and trusted just disappeared with them.
Over the course of the next few hours, I am a busy bumblebee preparing more than I ever have in my entire life. Not only do I make sure my room is tidied up with everything on display in a showcase manner, but I take the time to carefully decide what it is that’s valuable enough for me to take. Once I’m done with that, I take a long, hot shower to help focus my mind, listen to a classical piano station on my phone, and center myself, knowing I’m about to commit the biggest crime I’ve ever attempted. I take my time applying makeup and slipping into my cocktail dress, knowing that, if the slightest detail is out of place, things could unravel like a poorly knitted blanket.
A few minutes before seven, I smile proudly to myself. While placing conventional items such as lip gloss, perfume, and a makeup compact into one little, black purse, I’m loading an identical one with the tools every good thief needs.
Hearing a soft knock on the door, I grab both bags and answer it. Justin is smiling sweetly with a rose in his hand that matches the deep red shirt underneath his black jacket.
“Dastardly.” I shake my head slowly. “That’s how you look.”
“And, that’s bad?”
“In this situation? Yes.”
“The red’s a little much?”
“A bit.”
He holds up a finger to me, dips his finger into a small pouch in his inner coat pocket, gives his shirt a tug, and it instantly changes to a bright blue. I shake my head, and he tugs once more, so it’s gray. “Better?”
