Stars (Wendy Darling #1)(84)
John turned away from her, his eyes on the sea. “I knew you wouldn’t understand it here. I knew the minute we arrived, when you looked out at the Lost Boys with such horror, that one day you would make us leave. They don’t fit into your pretty world. You don’t belong here, but Michael and I do.”
Wendy tried to calm her voice so that she wasn’t yelling. John wouldn’t respond to her growing desperation. “John, I love it here. There is no prettier place than Neverland. But John, boys die here. Darby—and Kitoko died. I watched his blood spill on the rock.” Her voice caught in her throat, unable to control the sob shaking up it. She saw it again. “You weren’t there; you don’t know how horrible it was.”
John spun on her, and Wendy was caught off guard by the fact that he was almost as tall as she was. “I do know. I do know you’re a girl and you don’t understand. There are risks to adventure. This is war . . .”
“This isn’t war!” she erupted. “This is a game! Don’t you see?”
John’s hazel eyes narrowed. “And Peter? Are you ready to leave Peter?”
Wendy was silent as she considered the question. No. No, she didn’t want to leave Peter. In fact, at the sound of his name, her skin flushed. When she remembered their kiss in the mist, she wanted to stay. And yet . . . Booth. A feeling pressed on her chest, an uncomfortable shifting. She wanted Peter, but not in the same way that she needed Booth.
The sea crashed underneath them, showering their shins with a salty spray. The bright Neverland sun bore down, rays of golden light washing over them, turning even an argument between siblings into a beautiful moment. John gestured to the scene in front of them. “How could you want to leave this, Wendy? It’s the only place we’ve ever belonged.”
Wendy tried to reach for him, but he shrugged away. “John, that’s not true. We belonged at home.”
He turned to her with cold eyes. “You’re free to go anytime you please.”
Wendy thought of what the look on her parents’ faces would be if she returned without one of her brothers. “John, don’t be ridiculous. I could never leave without you or Michael.”
John scoffed. “Why do you care now what I do? Why do you care if I stay or not? You never cared about me before, never wanted me to have anything good.”
Wendy reeled. “What are you talking about?”
“You told Peter that I was too young and too inexperienced to lead the raid. You betrayed me to him. You could have lost everything for me.” He shook his head. “I will never forget it.”
Wendy didn’t know what to say. John looked so deeply hurt. Could he have truly been so wounded by her words? What had gotten into him? “John? That was nothing! It was nothing. It didn’t mean anything. I didn’t want you to get hurt! I said it because I care about you. You’re my brother; of course I want you to be safe. That’s what family does. Don’t you see? Our parents need us; our place is in London with them, in our home. What if we have broken their hearts, John? What if they are waiting by the nursery window, clutching each other? You can’t live here forever, just being a wild boy and killing pirates.”
John whirled on her, his face crumpled and cold. “Why not?” Wendy didn’t know what to say and stared at her brother in bewilderment. “Wendy, the truth is, you need our parents because you’re the good girl. You always do the right thing; always the center of attention. Even here, in this place that is everything I’ve ever dreamed of, you have somehow made it about you, you and Peter. We should be fighting pirates and planning battles to win this war, and you’re in the corner, with your stupid bows and dresses, and all Peter can focus on is you—you, Wendy! You’ve thrown off the balance of this world, all because you’re pretty!” His lips curled up in a mean sneer. “But prettiness fades. Adventure is forever. Glory is eternal.”
Wendy threw up her hands. “Listen to yourself! What are you saying? What are you even talking about? John, this world isn’t real!”
“You’re wrong. The life I have here is much better than any life I was living back in London. I can’t understand why you would want to go back.”
“You don’t understand because you don’t remember our London life. You choose not to remember. I don’t know how it works, but something about this place puts a veil over your memories, John. You aren’t yourself here!”
He looked away from her, his eyes steely and hard. “I’m more myself here than I have ever been. See, I remember some things. I may not remember our so-called parents, but I remember how I felt there: bitter, quiet, jealous, invisible. If you truly love me, you would never ask me to choose a boring life over being here, being alive. What is so great in London that it would be worth leaving this for?” He raised his hands above him, as if to sweep in all of Pan Island.
Wendy grabbed his hand and shook him. “John! Do you not understand what Neverland does to you? The enchantment of it . . . yes, it’s beautiful and perfect here, but it’s also violent and dark. You didn’t see what I saw at the Vault. You didn’t see the death that is waiting for you. The pirates aren’t imaginary, John! They are grown men, and they have real swords and real pistols, and they hate Lost Boys, especially Generals. And you aren’t a General, John! You are John Darling, the child of George and Mary Darling, my brother! You love the stars, and you love reading twisted stories of the North! You aren’t even whole here! You don’t know who you are without your memories. John, please, our parents are waiting for us!”