Trapped forever: The never-ending captivity of a lost girl.

chapter 4(updated)

"Hey, you done?" Pan's voice echoes behind me.

"Ahh!" I shriek, grabbing my towel. "Dude, I'm getting changed! Knock first!"

"On what, genius?" he replies, smirking.

"ON ANYTHING, I DON'T CARE!" I snap back.

"You hungry?" he asks, completely unfazed.

"What?" I say, confused by the sudden change in topic.

"Well, you're really cranky, so I'm assuming you haven't eaten."

"Yeah, I am hungry. I thought you were starving me or something," I say, rolling my eyes.

He laughs. "Knew it."

"Knew what?"

"Girls are ALWAYS cranky when they're hungry, or when..." he trails off.

"When what?" I glare at him, daring him to finish.

"Well, you know... when they're, uh... going through icky stuff."

I give him an incredulous look. "Really? You act all tough but can't even say the word period?"

He rolls his eyes and shrugs. "Whatever. Can you finish getting dressed already? This is awkward."

I laugh shyly. "Sure. But could you maybe not stare at me while I do it?"

"Oh... right." He turns around, grumbling under his breath. "Dumbass."

"Okay, I'm done," I say after a moment, wrapping my towel tighter. He turns back around and grabs my hand, pulling me along.

"I can walk on my own, you know."

"Yeah, well, I don't want you running off."

"Stop treating me like a child! Do you not trust me?"

"Not really. You did try to escape," he reminds me, his grip firm.

"Yeah, I know, but let me walk on my own at least."

He sighs and lets go of my hand. "Fine, but if you try anything, you'll regret it."

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, rolling my eyes.

We walk back to the camp in silence. As soon as we arrive, all the Lost Boys are staring again, especially Felix, the one I yelled at earlier. "What?" I snap.

They all remain silent, so I just roll my eyes and head back to the tent. Pan follows, as usual. "I'll get you something to eat," he says.

I nod and sit on the bed, still stewing over what he said earlier about my mom. A few minutes later, he comes back and hands me a plate with a fried egg on it.

"Thanks," I mutter, as he just stands there, watching me.

"Yes?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing. I'm going," he says, leaving the tent. Weird.

I eat the egg in silence, trying to shake off the lingering tension. About an hour later, I start braiding my hair when the door suddenly swings open, making me jump.

"Pan, what are you doing?" I exclaim, standing up quickly.

"Relax, you're just braiding your hair," he says, sounding irritated. "And it's not like you own this tent. I do."

I cross my arms, confused. "Okay... what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "Just wanted to say dinner's ready."

"Oh, okay," I say, unbraiding my hair. I walk past him, side-eyeing the Lost Boys as I grab some food. After I finish eating, I head back to the tent, feeling overheated. I try cutting my shirt to make it shorter.

"What are you doing?" Pan asks, reappearing in the doorway.

"Trying to make my shirt shorter. It's hot," I grumble, struggling with the fabric.

He smirks. "Need help with that?"

"No, it's fine," I reply quickly, but he steps closer anyway.

"Seriously, let me help," he insists, grabbing the blade.

"I said it's fine, Pan!" I snap, reaching for the blade. In the struggle, his arm moves, and the fabric rips.

"OMG, Pan! My shirt!" I cover myself in shock. "What am I supposed to wear now?"

"It was an accident!" he protests.

"This is so annoying," I mutter, looking down at the ruined shirt.

"Maybe... wear it backward?" he suggests, chuckling.

"No way. I'm not walking around looking like a skank," I snap back.

He laughs again, completely unfazed. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad."

"Not that bad? My whole chest is exposed!" I shout, glaring at him.

He's still laughing. "I'll get you another shirt. Calm down."

"WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY THAT BEFORE YOU RUINED MY SHIRT?" I yell dramatically.

"Relax, love. I'll get it." He walks out of the tent, and I let out an exasperated sigh.

A few minutes later, he comes back with a black t-shirt. "Here," he says, tossing it to me.

"Finally," I huff, grabbing the shirt and turning around to change.

When I finish, I notice he's still standing there. "Why are you still here?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

"Because I can be," he scoffs.

"Ugh, fine. Stand there like a creep then. I'm going to sleep." I roll my eyes and climb into bed.

"You know... my bed's much better," he says with a sly smirk.

"Um, no thanks. I'd rather die," I retort, flashing him a sarcastic smile.

He looks annoyed but says nothing. Just the way I like it.