The Lost Boys (complete)

chapter thirteen

Pan got out of the shower, his hair still dripping of water. You were laying on your bed, on your phone. You'd left it home on the night of the party, not a good idea. Your friends had been sending you texts all night and day, asking where you were.

"So are you going to kidnap me? Since I can't go out," you said, eyes on the screen.

"No," he said carelessly, sitting on the bed at your feet. "I'm pretty sure though, that I can compel your mother into letting you out."

"Then you don't know my mother," you laughed, still not looking at him.

"So, what I'm saying is, that it was my fault your daughter got drunk that night." Pan's voice was apologetic. "I should've been keeping an eye on her, but—"

"Oh, Milo, no," your mother said, setting her hands on his shoulders. You gaped. "She can't be tamed," she said.

"Yeah, I know that," Pan said, giving you a look, and you rolled your eyes.

"So?" you asked your mother. She tilted her head after a deep sigh.

"You are no longer grounded, but," she said. "No more disappearing, okay?"

You nodded with a wide smile, until you realized Pan would be taking you back to his garage. Your grin faded.

"I need to change," you said and walked to your room, blank faced. You wanted to scream. Taking out some comfortable clothes, jeans and a t-shirt you only sighed. Someone knocked on your door. You quickly pulled on the t-shirt and went to the door. Thinking it was your mother you hadn't bothered to put on your pants. But it wasn't her. Pan looked at your bare legs and smirked.

"What?" you asked, more like snapped. He raised his eyebrows at your sudden moodiness.

"Someone's cranky," he teased, trying to make you smile but you didn't. "Sweetness, don't look at me that way."

You just closed the door in his face.

"Milo! You absolutely have to stay for dinner," your mother called. You huffed, pulling on your pants. You ran out into the living room and grabbed Pan's arm.

"Actually, mom, he have to be somewhere," you said with a frown. She got up from the arm chair and walked after you.

"But hone–" You slammed the door. You pulled him out of the corridor and into the street. He tore himself free and took out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and looked at you.

"Your mum seems nice," he said, like nothing had happened.

"I'm not coming back to your little layer," you said, folding your arms across your chest.

He just heavily inhaled the smoke, without saying anything.

"Okay," he then said, smoke seeping through the words. You gaped. First he couldn't let you leave, now he couldn't care less?

"You're kidding, right?" you said. He just shrugged. And a shrug?!

"If you don't wanna come back, I'm not going to make you," he said. Wait, did you want to go back? He sighed, looked away.

Now he did look handsome. He had soft features that melted you inside. You just couldn't stop thinking about him kissing you the previous night. You just wanted to do it again and again.

"Look, you told me you weren't gonna tell, so," he said just as you began toward the door.

"I won't," you assured. He shrugged again.

"Then there's so reason for me keeping you," he said. "I guess this is goodbye."

Those words broke your heart. Goodbye? You'd only known him for three days and you'd grown attached to him. Even though he treated you like shit at first, there was a certain caring in his tone.

"I guess it is," you said in a small voice. "Bye."