Page 114 of Losing Wendy
“Here you go,” I say, nudging my gift forward.
Michael shrieks, his foot colliding with my nose, and he tries to escape John’s and Smalls’s grips.
Pain spots my vision, stinging in bursts all over the inside of my skull. I drop the clay, mud staining my face from what’s leftover on my palm as I bring my hand over my nose to catch the blood streaming out.
I turn away, a sob swelling in my throat, but I can’t weep in front of John. Not when he’ll internalize it, think he’s only made the situation worse.
“Wendy Darling.” Peter appears in front of me, Michael still screaming behind us. “Let me fix it.” Gently, he extracts my muddied hand from my nose. I can’t imagine what I look like with mingled blood and clay and tears smearing my face. Peter slides his forefinger and thumb down the ridge of my nose. “Well, the bright side is that it’s not broken.”
“That’s…that’s good,” I manage between sharp inhales.
Peter pulls a roll of bandage cloth from his satchel and uses it to wipe the grime from my face. Thankfully, the bleeding has already subsided by the time he’s done.
“I ruined everything for him,” I whisper to Peter. “I ruined his life, and now he’ll never see his mother again, and I can’t even explain to him why. He hates me, and I can’t make him understand…”
Peter watches me closely, then flicks his eyes over to the boys. “What if you could give him something familiar? Show him you still love him in a language he understands?”
“I don’t know how to do that,” I say, soul heavy with resignation.
“He likes games, does he not? Play? Is there a game that’s familiar to him? One that might make him feel like he’s home?”
My head snaps up so fast I’m shocked it doesn’t trigger another nosebleed. “Peter, I’d kiss you if my brothers weren’t standing right behind us.”
“I could always ask them to leave.”
Playfully, I swat him on the shoulder before spinning around to face the boys. Michael is kicking at the ground, but he’s not screaming anymore, so that’s encouraging.
“Michael,” I say, my heart lurching a little when he flinches at the sound of my voice. I summon up the will to continue. “Michael, last one to the top is dead meat.”
Michael’s foot halts its course in the earth. He doesn’t look at me as he whispers, “Last one to the top’s dead meat.”
He doesn’t have to look at me. The iron doors weighing on my chest unfold.
“Smalls, let go,” says John, dropping Michael’s hand. Smalls frowns but obeys. For a moment, Michael does nothing except stare at the ground, flapping his now-free hands. John is still tensed and at the ready in case Michael tries to scratch himself again.
But then Michael looks me straight in the eye and says, “Last one to the top’s dead meat!”
He runs.
John flashes me a dazed grin, but I’m already dashing after Michael, soaking in the lovely feel of moss underneath my feet once I reach the wooded area. I race through the underbrush, not a care in the world for the bruises that are sure to appear on my heels later.
I can’t hurt as long as Michael is laughing.
And my brother is laughing, his breathy giggles chiming in with the birds perched above, a melody unlike any a harp or lyre could ever aspire to play.
High above, a dark figure cuts off the rays of light from drifting through the canopy—Peter, watching after Michael from above, ensuring he comes to no harm.
I adore that man.
Smalls zips past me, his fae agility and speed allowing him to maneuver over fallen logs with ease.
Soon enough, I sense John stumbling through the forest behindme, his heavy breathing giving him away before even the pounding of his footsteps.
“I really thought you would be faster than me by now,” I huff as we scramble over a mossy boulder, John holding a twig out of my way. “And here you are lagging behind.”
John flashes me a grin. “I am faster than you.”
A second later, my brother releases the twig, allowing it to flick me in the throat. He chuckles as I yelp, then picks up his speed. He shoots a triumphant glance behind him, glasses askew, then checks the sky, making sure Peter still has an eye on me before he disappears into the brush after Michael.