Lost Ones

1

The only thing I like about London is the rain. The smell of it on the air, the feel of it on my skin, the sound of it against the roof of the stupid group home for girls I've lived in since I was four. The rain drowns out the sounds of the other girls, the younger ones crying about the dark and the older ones gossiping about boys in their year. No one really talks to me. It bothered me at first but I got used to it over time; I always stood out because I haven't been here since I was born, and because I got adopted at ten but sent back a month later. The meaner girls never let me forget about it. But it doesn't matter anymore.

I'm leaving tonight.

At eleven o' clock when everyone else is asleep, I get up quietly out of bed, glad I have a room alone. I get dressed in black leggings, a plain white t-shirt, a black hoodie, and a pair of ratty Vans, my only shoes. Then I out everything I own, which isn't much, in my rucksack and silently climb out the window, thankful I'm on the first floor.

As soon as I hit the ground, I run. I run fast, and I don't look back.

After about half an hour, I reach the end of an empty loading dock about two miles away. I walk all the way to the edge and look out at the black water, the moon illuminating the ripples on the surface. I realize it's started to rain softly and lift my face up to the sky, closing my eyes and feeling the droplets against my skin, soaking my hair. Like maybe it will wash away all my bad memories, at least the worse ones, and help me start over, because even though I finally got out, I have no idea where I'm going to go. For about half a second I question if I made the right decision.

Then I hear bells.

It's just one little tinkle. But I open my eyes and look around. The dock is still empty.

Just when I convince myself I imagined it, I hear it again.

Tink tinktinktink tinktink tink-

"Shh! Stop it!" I hear someone whisper.

I whip around, but I still don't see anyone. This is crazy.

Tinktinktinktink-!

"Hush or she'll hear us!"

"Aye, who's there?" I call out.

"Great," the voice says, "thanks a lot, Tink."

"Who's there?" I repeat louder.

Suddenly a boy's face appears right at my feet, coming from below the dock, and I stumble back. He smiles. "Hi!" He climbs over the edge effortlessly, and I keep a respective distance away from him in case he's a total freak. Then there's a boy about my age standing in front of me. One that just climbed out from under the loading dock.

"Wha... What in the bloody hell were you doing down there?"

"Uh." He rubs his neck, looking embarrassed (and kind of cute, in a rugged way). "Honestly?" I nod slowly. "Well, hiding from you."

"Well, I'm confused. Why? Do I even know you?"

His smile comes back, wide and honest. "I'm Peter Pan. I heard you coming so I hid, but Tink kept telling me I should talk to you-"

"Hold on." I raise an eyebrow. "Did you say you're Peter Pan? As in, the bloke from the movie?"

"There's a movie now?? Wow."

I look at what he's wearing, which I can see pretty clearly because of the bright moon: muddy Converse, khaki shorts, and a forest green shirt under a brown leather jacket. His hair is dirty blonde and medium length, the ends curling at his ears and the nape of his neck, his bangs ending just above his eyebrows. His bright blue eyes seem to actually sparkle in the moonlight. He's my height, and has this, like, aura of innocence, his face so open. Too bad he's crazy, or just a liar.

"Well, you don't look like Peter Pan," I finally say.

He smirks, looking amused, but not in a
condescending way. It's more playful. "What am I supposed to look like?"

I can't help it; I smile back. His smile is contagious. "You know, wearing clothes made of like, leaves, and red hair, and that hat, and flies around."

He chuckles. "Well-"

He's interrupted by that tinkling again, and then I see a light coming from inside his jacket.

He quickly zips it up and smiles at me like that was normal. "Um, are you going to tell me what that is?" I say.

"What was that?"

Tink! Tinktinktinktinktink!

He sighs. "Jeez, okay, you don't have to be so mean."

He unzips his jacket and the ball of light zips out towards the water, circles around in several dizzyingly fast circles. "What the-" It zips back to  hover between us, litter glitters of light following in its wake.

"Am I on acid?" I knew they were putting something in the water.

He just laughs at me. "C'mon, Tink, let her see you."
The ball of light dims just a little dimmer so I can see the tiny figure of a girl in a green halter top and tutu. "Whoa."

"This is Tinker Bell," the boy- Peter- says. There's more tinkling, and he laughs, and I think he blushes. "Not yet, Tink."

"What, what did she say?"

"It's nothing."

"Tell me."

"Really, I-"

"TELL."