Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,85

with online friends—but otherwise she looked the same. Eleanor stepped back to take all of Wendy in properly. She gently patted Wendy’s shoulders, then her cheeks, then the side of her hair. Up close without a screen between them, Wendy could see Eleanor’s freckles and a bit of red in her blond hair.

Eleanor looked sleepy, but her eyes were bright and happy. “What’s up, buttercup?” she asked with a soft grin. “Not very romantic to have our first meetup like this. Although I must give you points for drama and originality.”

Wendy laughed and felt much better. So much better. “How long are you grounded for?” Wendy asked.

Eleanor glanced over at her parents, who were now smiling and talking to Wendy’s parents enthusiastically. “A month for enabling,” she replied, turning back. “How about you?”

“Thousands and thousands of years, apparently.”

Eleanor groaned. “So, right back to normal, then?” She pulled Wendy back into another hug, this time laying her curly head in the hollow of Wendy’s neck.

Wendy rubbed at Eleanor’s back remorsefully. Over Eleanor’s shoulder, she could see Tinkerbelle watching them curiously.

“Not even close, Eleanor,” Wendy said. “Not even close.”

“On these magic shores children at play are forever beaching their coracles. We too have been there; we can still hear the sound of the surf, though we shall land no more.”

Peter Pan, by J.M. Barrie

EPILOGUE

The sun was so bright that Wendy could see it through her eyelids. She turned over and wrapped her blanket over her head and groaned. Why did the blinds have to be all the way up? It was a Sunday for God’s sake. A day of rest.

“You should really be awake by now,” Tinkerbelle said. “Eleanor is going to be here in half an hour.”

Wendy tugged her blanket off her head and stared directly at the ceiling. There was no way she would have agreed to share her room with Tinkerbelle if she had known what a yoga freak the other girl was. Meanwhile, Prentis stayed asleep until twelve p.m. every day of the weekend. And he’s neater, Wendy thought ruefully.

Tinkerbelle finished stretching and hopped up to sit on her bed, bouncing happily on the firm expensive mattress—the first she’d ever had. “You should really get dressed.”

Wendy turned over completely so her face was buried in her pillow. “Eleanor doesn’t care if I’m in pajamas, and I’m not allowed to leave, anyway, so why should I put on real clothes?”

“She might be bringing Fyodor—I don’t know,” Tinkerbelle said coquettishly. “You wouldn’t want to not get dressed and wish that you had.”

Wendy flipped over again and sighed loudly and angrily at the ceiling. “You wouldn’t say that unless you knew for certain he WAS coming,” she snapped. “Why don’t you go downstairs and bother the twins? They’re always spoiling for a fight.”

Tinkerbelle shrugged. “Teasing boys isn’t the same. You should know, they’re your brothers now, too.”

Wendy scowled and let her legs fall out of bed. Instead of getting up, she just slithered limply off the mattress to the floor like wet spaghetti and lay there, arms and legs akimbo.

Tinkerbelle bounced down from her mattress and settled somewhere near Wendy’s head. She squished Wendy’s cheeks between both hands, and Wendy let her. Petulantly.

“You’re so spoiled.” Tinkerbelle giggled.

“You are now, too,” Wendy said through her tightly held cheeks. “Only, you actually get to enjoy it. They’re not going to let me outside until I’m buying my own home.”

Tinkerbelle hummed. “Sucks to suck. It’s only been four months, you’ve experienced worse things in life.” She squished Wendy’s face tightly one more time, then stood up and began peeling off her exercise gear to change into her new everyday clothes. After her adoption, Tinkerbelle had given up her giant wardrobe of many-size pieces and sheepishly let Wendy’s parents buy her new clothes that actually fit. With more money to actually choose things she liked, Tinkerbelle had developed a cute, mod style with little minidresses, colored tights, and bold fake eyelashes. Her hair had even grown out a bit, but she’d already warned Mrs. Darling that she would be getting it cut short again soon and not to get used to it.

“I’m going to visit Slightly,” Tinkerbelle announced. “They’re putting Curly’s bottle sculpture up in the Chicago Cultural Center, and he wants us to help. Slightly said his great-cousin would make us lunch if we stopped by first. Are you sure you don’t want to sneak out and come?”

Wendy missed having Slightly around, but the allure of seeing Fyodor again was too much to resist,