The Lost Boys (complete)

chapter fourteen

A/N: F/N: Friend's Name.

You lay awake at night. It had been a week since your goodbye with Pan and you were still thinking about him. Why couldn't you just get over it, get over him? You thought of the way that he talked to you, how he touched you. How he got you back from that human trafficking joint. He didn't have to get you, but he did. He didn't even know your name when he visited you in the hospital after the explosion. And you told no one about him.

You got out of bed to get a glass of water. Maybe you should go ask him why he let you go. "You told me you weren't gonna tell, so, then there's not reason for me keeping you." But, he just—ugh.

You filled the glass with water and drank up. What is you were never going to see him again? That was actually very likely. Pan told you they moved camp every week at the least, they would have moved by now.

You couldn't help the tears from filling your eyes. You'd never cried over a boy like this. You wanted to see him again so desperately. He knew where you lived, he didn't come. Maybe he didn't want to see you. The thought broke your heart.

You went back to bed and closer your eyes tightly. You couldn't get hung up on some guy, you had to force yourself over it. But how? All that was going through your mind, was when he pressed his lips against yours. You couldn't stop thinking about the warmth of his body against yours on that uncomfortable sofa. You tried to shake those thoughts out of your head, but with no hope.

You then heard a rock hit your window. With the smallest shred of hope inside you, you got out of bed and ran to the noise. You saw a small and thin figure waving at you with the light of their phone. It was F/N.

You opened the window and made an annoyed hand wave.

"What?" you whisper-yelled, but it was hardly audible over the fuss on the street. You looked at the clock. 4:27. "What the hell was she doing out so late?" It was a Sunday. She pointed at the door and you huffed.

You stepped out of the apartment building and into the street. You only wore a top with shorts and a by walker gave you a look.

"Yeah, yeah, keep walking," you snapped. F/N walked toward you.

"Why haven't you been answering my calls?" She was angry. You'd been too depressed to pick up the phone and call your best friend.

"Sorry," you said. "My phone was lost."

"The entire week?"

"Yeah, I left it at the party," you said and she sighed.

"I was so worried," she said and took you in her arms. "I thought you got kidnapped or something."

You gave a nervous laugh as she let go. "Why weren't you at school? People talk you know," she said scoldingly.

"I have a cold," you explained. F/N looked worried.

"Oh yeah?" she said. "You couldn't have called?"

"I told you my pho—"

"Well you mom has my number, doesn't she?" she said. "Come on, Y/N, what the fuck is going on?"

You quickly contemplated wether you could tell her. She'd think you were crazy for falling for someone who kidnapped you. Wait, had you really called for Pan? You panicked.

"Hello?" she waved her hand in your face. You swatted it away and looked at her in the eyes.

"Okay, listen."

After telling her everything, you two were sitting on the steps to your apartment building. F/N was overwhelmed, so were you.

"You slept with him?" she almost yelled.

"Seriously? This is not the time for slut shaming," you bit back. She just stared at you, blank faced.

"Sorry, I just—" she trailed off. "This is so—crazy."

"I know," you said.

"I'm glad you told me," she said with a smile and took your hands her hers.

"But," you said, hesitating. Should you tell her how you felt about Pan? What if she was going to judge you? "I kind of miss him," you blurted. There, you told someone.

At first F/N just stared at you, then she gave you a sympathetic look. "I get it."

"Really?" you were shocked.

"You have Stockholm Syndrome," she said softly. What?!

"No I don't," you said with an uncomfortable laugh.

"He's broken and you want to fix him, I get that. But you can't have real feelings for someone who abducted you," she explained.

"No, you don't get it," you said with a humorless laugh. "It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it like, Y/N?"

"I need to go back inside," you said and she huffed.

You walked up the steps and thought about what she'd said. What if none of your feelings were real? What if it was just you wanting to fix him?

And the worst if of all, what if he didn't really care about you?