Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,49

their hatred and disgust toward Peter, only changing their expressions when Peter looked at them directly. Now that Charles had properly cried out his terror from nearly being arrested, he seemed more serious and way more focused on using his large body to physically block Ominotago from view. Charles looked at Peter the way one would look at a sleeping lion: wary and ready to defend himself. Fyodor refused to look at Peter at all unless directly addressed. So aggressive was his refusal to participate and determination to stay faced away that Peter loudly began pointing out when they were turning, as if he thought Fyodor was about to walk in the wrong direction.

By contrast, Nibs and Curly looked at Peter often, as if waiting for orders he hadn’t given yet. They leaned toward him the same way Tinkerbelle had leaned toward Peter in the alley when they’d first met. Nibs and Curly also moved in lockstep with Peter, like a pack, with Peter at the front. Tinkerbelle and Ominotago walked at the rear of the group. Peter seemed incredibly agitated by Ominotago’s presence, but was putting up with her for reasons Wendy didn’t yet understand. Unlike the rest of the people Wendy had met tonight, Ominotago didn’t seem afraid of Peter at all. Now that she thought about it, Ominotago was also the only person who had seriously disobeyed him and gotten away with it.

I don’t take orders from him, she’d said. Ominotago had stated that like a fact, as resolutely as Wendy would say that there were fifty states in America.

Tinkerbelle, she realized, was mimicking that. Her shouting in the alley was less impactful than Ominotago’s conversational tone. Her rebellion was always followed immediately by cowering and silence. She was fighting back without the right weapons and without durable armor.

The air around the group was thick with tension. Nine different people walking together, wrestling with Peter’s gravitational pull in their own ways while the boy himself gave off nothing at all. No fear, no guilt, no concern. Strolling down the street like the entire neighborhood was the inside of his house. Like it was midday instead of 11:33 p.m.

Wendy noticed that while his right arm swung beside him carelessly, his left hand was dipped into his messenger bag, where she knew he kept his bombs. He seemed nonchalant, but Peter was always ready.

The mood got even more anxious the longer the group walked in silence. It was beginning to feel dangerous, so Wendy decided to throw herself into the fray to ease the tension.

“So, what kind of party is this?” she asked.

To her surprise, Minsu was the one who answered. “It’s a warehouse party out in Skokie. Ominotago, Curly, and Waatese throw it once a year. It’s like a big … uh … like a show? There’s local DJs and stuff.” Minsu turned around and began walking backward. “Also, what’s your name again?”

“Wendy Darling.” Wendy stuck out her hand, remembering that Minsu had been extremely busy comforting Charles during the “get to know you” part of the bus ride.

Minsu fist-bumped Wendy’s outstretched hand chaotically instead of shaking it. “Wendy like Wendy’s™? Yikes. I’m sorry.”

Charles did a double take, but then shook his head like he was already tired of dealing with Minsu’s antics.

Minsu himself was unrepentant. He stopped walking backward but slowed down a bit so he and Wendy were walking next to each other. “I’m not sure if house music is your thing, because it’s barely mine, but pretty much everyone in CPS who is cool enough to get an invite goes to this. It’s, like, the biggest party of the year.”

“CPS?” Wendy asked. “Is that the school you go to?”

“Chicago Public School,” Ominotago, Charles, and Minsu answered in unison.

“We go to Luther South,” Minsu elaborated. “You from out of town?”

Wendy nodded. “Hinsdale.”

“Oh, so this is a party party for you,” Minsu said knowingly. “You responsible for this, Peter?” he called to the front of the group.

“Always,” Peter tossed over his shoulder. “You treat her nice, now.”

Out of Peter’s view, Minsu made an incredulous face. “He doesn’t know how to treat anybody,” Minsu muttered under his breath.

“I’m beginning to notice,” Wendy replied, just as quiet.

Minsu smiled at that, and it felt like the sun was burning off Wendy’s whole face to look at him directly. Did Peter have a sexy-only policy? Who was responsible for gathering this many attractive people in such a small space? Did Minsu brush his teeth with literal bleach? Were you not allowed