Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,10

to make a profit and take off with their TV. And much more terrifyingly, just as she had warned her parents, there was a stranger in their home, and she had no real way to escape him or contact the authorities.

The boy relaxed against the wall and pushed his hair back from his face, cradling Wendy’s phone in his slim fingers. He raised an eyebrow at her impatiently.

Wendy gritted her teeth. “Will you. Accept. A trade of labor? As you can see, everything is packed except for my room. I have sewing materials here, and I’m pretty sure your entire sleeve is downstairs, lying on the kitchen table. If I sew your sleeve back on, will you get out of my house and never come back?”

The boy gaped at her. “You … what? You’d do that for me?”

“Not for you, you weirdo. I’m doing it so you’ll leave!” Wendy shouted.

“No one has ever … yes. Please sew my sleeve back on. This jacket means a lot to me and I just … yes.” He sat down on the floor to wait.

Wendy went out of her room and dashed down the stairs. The sleeve was indeed lying on the kitchen table, and she grabbed it. The landline phone caught her eye and a thrill of triumph quickened her heart for a moment, but when she picked it up, she realized the connection hadn’t been set up yet, which meant any lifelines were still out of reach. Her stomach fell in disappointment and fear, and she made her way back up the stairs.

The boy was sitting there patiently, leaning against the wall. He had her phone perched in the well between his long thighs and was doing a cat’s cradle with some yarn. He looked up when she came back into the room, and his eyes laser-focused on the sleeve.

Wendy sat on her bed and pulled the sewing kit from underneath her mattress. She threaded a needle with thick button thread and waited.

“I can’t actually sew the sleeve on without the jacket,” she said icily.

The boy scrambled out of his jacket and held it out to her, his eyes round with anticipation.

Wendy snatched it from him, turned it inside out, and began to pin the sleeve back on. “You know, you could have just come to the front door during the daytime, apologized to my parents about the misunderstanding, politely asked for the sleeve, and sewed it back on yourself.”

The boy let out a snort of laughter and then covered his mouth like he was surprised it had found its way out. “I don’t know how to sew,” he admitted sheepishly. “And I doubt that would have worked, anyway.”

“Why does this jacket mean so much to you that you’d trespass just to fix it?” Wendy asked. “It’s only a jean jacket. You can get one just like it at H&M.”

The boy hummed low in his throat and leaned the long line of his neck back to rest his head against the wall. “I’ve had this jacket for a very long time. It used to belong to a friend of mine—the very first friend I ever had. I’ve kept it safe for him for ages. I know the circumstances of our meeting tonight aren’t exactly … cordial. But I do really appreciate you fixing it for me. I hope you know that,” he said softly.

Wendy glanced over at him in spite of herself. The boy was gazing back at her through lowered eyelids, half closed but still sharp and observant in the light of her bedside lamp. He was studying her, she realized.

“You’re very pretty,” he said. “I don’t mean that in a selfish way. I just thought you should know.”

“Thanks,” Wendy muttered and tugged the thread extra tight.

“So, you said you just moved here? From where?”

“I’m not telling you,” Wendy said immediately.

“Why?” the boy asked, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Because we don’t even know each other!”

“We could.” The boy climbed to his feet and crossed the room in quick strides. He placed her phone on the corner of her bed and held up his hands, backing away, when she snatched it.

“Please don’t call them. You’re almost done,” he said softly.

Up close, Wendy could see that he had been crying. Eyes rubbed red around the rim; nose still puffy from wiping it.

“I’m Peter,” he said, sniffing. “Peter Pan.”

“Wendy Darling.” She felt the words leave her mouth helplessly.

Peter gave her a watery smile. “Nice to meet you, Darling.”

He turned