Page 61 of Losing Wendy
“Because,” he says, “proving me wrong is dangerous, Wendy Darling.”
“What, because you don’t like to be proved wrong?”
When he turns to look at me over his shoulder, his eyes flash. “Just the opposite.”
Later that day,Smalls and Benjamin get into an argument over who ate the last of the pine nuts Benjamin harvested. The matter has since devolved into a wrestling tournament under the canopy of the reaping tree, the Lost Boys eager to avoid their chores for as long as possible—all but Simon, who sits out.
After brushing aside the twigs littering the ground, I settle cross-legged beside him. “You don’t like wrestling?” I ask.
Before Simon can answer, Victor, who’s cracking his knuckles in preparation to wrestle Nettle, says, “Simon thinks he’s outgrown having fun.”
Simon’s tanned cheeks redden, so I nudge him softly. “That’s okay. I prefer it that way.”
He lifts a questioning brow.
“It means I have someone to talk to,” I say, to which Simon flushes again.
In truth, I’m thankful to have a few moments to speak with Simon while the other boys are distracted. The image of the missing boy berates my mind, but as Simon seemed so unwilling to talk about him last time, I try a different approach.
“Simon,” I whisper, hoping the boys’ hollers will obscure our conversation, “why are you here? You and the Lost Boys, I mean? I know you don’t remember your life before, but surely there’s some explanation for where you all came from.”
Simon shrugs. “I don’t know. None of us know. Well, Nettle says he knows, but you’ve met him.” He shoots me a knowing look.
I bite the inside of my cheek, shrugging noncommittally. Hopefully Simon has more of an idea about their past than the clinging fragments of a nursery rhyme.
“That doesn’t bother you? Not knowing who you are?”
He flashes me a pearly grin. “Who says I don’t know who I am?”
I smile softly at that. I suppose he’s right. Sure, Victor’s comment clearly embarrassed him, but typically he’s about the most self-assured person I’ve ever met. Except for perhaps Peter, but Peter seems steeped in something much less stable than Simon.
“I still think it would bother me, not knowing,” I say.
Simon just picks at a twig on the ground in front of him. “Only Peter knows. He keeps it to himself so we don’t have to bear it.”
I swallow. “So you think it’s something that might bother you if you knew?”
Simon goes quiet. After a few moments, he rubs his hands downthe length of his thighs. “Well,” he says, standing up, “some of us actually have to get work done today.”
When he strokes the bark of the reaping tree and disappears into its tendrils, I maneuver my way over to Freckles, who’s the first to be cut from the tournament after being pinned by both Nettle and Benjamin.
“Hey, Winds,” he says, offering me a bright smile. The brown of his freckles has deepened with exposure to the sun on this uncharacteristically sunny day, where even under the shade of the reaping tree, light filters in through the leaves. “How’s that memory of yours?”
I let out a small laugh and wrap my knuckles against my skull. “Still there, as far as I know.”
He shrugs, a goofy smile on his face. “Entirely my doing, I’m sure. You’d probably have lost them now if it weren’t for my journal. Don’t worry. You can repay me by doing my chores for a month.”
I flick him on the ear, and he swats me away dramatically.
“Hey, Freckles, did you finally find an opponent you actually have a chance of beating?” yells Joel from the center of the ring of boys. He’s drenched in sweat after having pinned one of the twins.
I turn around, expecting to find Freckles red and fuming. Instead, he’s shrugging, palms to the sky, a mischievous look on his face. “What do ya say, Winds? Winner does the other person’s chores for a month?”
The laugh that escapes my lips surprises even me. The freedom of it. “You’re delusional if you think I’m going to agree to that.”
“If you go for his ankles, you actually have a decent chance of winning,” concedes Benjamin.
I’m not sure what comes over me—perhaps this island is messing with my head after all—but I lunge for Freckles’s ankles. He sidesteps me with a shocked laugh, and I end up with a mouthful of earth.