Peter by day, Pan by night

Chapter 10

        My memory overflows with color and beauty, but my heart is full of sadness because I know I will have to leave soon.

        The fairy circle was more than I could have imagined. Tiny footprints were still visible, held there for over a century by magic I cannot understand.

        After a meal of bear meat and roasted apples, Peter takes me to one of Neverland's lakes.

        In my mind, lakes are green and muddy, but this one is almost perfectly round with clear, blue water and soft grass on its bank. A few rocks jut in the middle of the lake. There are no fish in sight.

        "This is where the mermaids used to come sometimes. It was their favorite spot." Peter's boots move carefully over a row of stones near the bank. I realize he is one of the few lost boys who bother to wear shoes. I bury my own dirty toes into the soft mud. I can easily imagine mermaids sunning on those rocks. What was Neverland like before the darkness? Before the curse that Peter refuses to tell me about. His words in the treehouse are hours away, the sunlight and magic of this place obscuring them.

        "I made something for you." Peter jumps onto one of the largest rocks. A dress materializes in the air beside me. It is blue and beautiful.

        I gently rub my fingers over the silky material. "This is for me?"

        "Yes. I was going to make it green, but yesterday you said you liked blue. Besides, that way it matches your eyes. I made it this morning out of one of Neverland's blue roses."

        I don't know what to say. No one had ever given me something that pretty. How could I possibly wear it? This dress was meant for balls and fancy tea parties, not for me.

        "Don't cry, Wendy! What's wrong? You don't like it? Maybe I should have picked a different color or-"

        I blink away the tears I hadn't noticed, but he had. Why do I still feel like crying? I almost never cry. It helps nothing. "No, Peter, it is perfect. I love it. But I've never worn something so beautiful before."

        Peter stares at me quietly. The wind stirs the water separating us. "You are more beautiful than any dress, Wendy. You deserve it."

        Beautiful. No one has ever called me beautiful before. I'm not sure whether I should believe him or not.

        "Thank you, Peter."

        "Why do you call me Peter?" Peter leans forward, but he stays on his rock and I on my grassy bank.

        I smile. "Well, it is your name."

        "Yes, but everyone else calls me Pan."

        "Would you prefer-?"

        "No. I mean, I don't mind. Like you said, it is my name."

        Silence moves between us. I am about to thank him again, when he blurts out, "Um, I'll leave you alone, so you can bathe." He points at the pool of cool, clean water.

        "Oh, okay. Thank you."

        "If you need anything, call me."

        "Call you?"

        "With your thoughts. Just think my name."

        My eyes widen. "You can hear my thoughts?!"

        "Only the ones about me." Red brushes his cheeks.

        I cover my face, too embarrassed to figure out everything he's heard.