Panic

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Twenty Nine

            I woke the next night, and tried to get up before I realized I had a tail.  Peter stirred beside me and sat up.  “Morning Wendy,” he said.

            “Actually, it’s night,” I corrected him.

            He looked at me.  “Would it be wrong if I kissed you right now?” he asked.

            “Yes!” a chorus of boys said.                              

            I smiled a bit.  “I’m going to go with yes,” I said.

            He chose instead to brush a strand of my hair out of my face.  A lot of the boys made gagging sounds.  “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly.

            I felt the cloak of grief surround me again, heavy and damp.  “Not so great,” I murmured back. 

            He squeezed my hand and then raised his voice.  “We have to talk battle strategy,” Peter said, and all the boys fell silent.

            “What is there to talk about?” I asked.  “We’ll be on the defence; we just need to kill Fonce.”

            “You make it sound so simple,” Peter said.

            “It is that simple,” I said.  “In the end, it’s going to be you verses Fonce, and you know it.  I doubt the rest of us will see battle.”

            The boys groaned.  “Aw, peanuts,” someone said.

            “Peanuts?” I asked, sitting up.

            “Yeah, you know, the shelled nut,” Cubby began.

            “Cubby, nearly all nuts have shells,” I said.  “And I know what a peanut is.”

            “Oh,” he said, looking at his feet.

            “Look, it doesn’t matter,” I said.  “Did you want to die?  You should be grateful we don’t have to lift weapons.”

            “You’re a girl,” Slightly said, and I immediately rolled my eyes out of sheet instinct.  “Of course you’re happy you don’t have to fight.”

            I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to keep my temper in check.  “You should be careful what you wish for,” I said.  “You might end up fighting and dying after all.”

            “I won’t die,” Slightly said, using the tone of someone who knew what no one else did.

            I looked at Peter.  “I’m leaving,” I said.

            “Wendy,” he said.

            “I will not sit here and let him degrade me in front of everyone,” I said through gritted teeth.

            “The other boys know it isn’t true,” Peter insisted.

            “I know, but I think it’s time I leave,” I said.

            “Alright,” Peter said, and I slid into the water, feeling it run over me and washing the sand away from my tail.

            “Tinkerbelle?” I asked.  There was no response.

            “Tink?” Peter said.  “Tink!”

            “Where is she?” I asked.