Grow Up

Five

After a long night of dancing and chanting, it was time for bed. At least for Gardenia it was. She was beyond tired. Back in America, it should be the middle of the night. It should be nighttime. She should be asleep. Yawns kept escaping her mouth as she sat upon a log. This camp was a nice little size. Big enough for the boys to freely flail their limbs and dance like crazy banshees. Peter floated above them, playing away on his Pan Flute. Legend says that if you could hear his tune, you were truly lost. Gardenia could hear it, but was too tired to dance.

The girl had a plan. She were to go to bed, then when she woke up, she'd ask Peter where the showers were. Did they even have showers? She didn't know, but after bathing, she would ask Peter about going home since her first attempt got interrupted. Sure, she loved the thought of living in Neverland, but something was wrong. Her instincts were telling her this place was full of bad juju. She wanted to go back home, where she knew the ins and outs of the streets. Knew its secrets and hideouts. Gardenia did not like this new place. Too much change.

"Tired, Little Flower?" Peter had his arms folded over his chest. An eyebrow was cocked up again, and he had a scowl on his face. Like he was some snobby brat. Gardenia didn't notice the tune had stopped.

"Well yeah, your little Shadow pet did take me away right when I was going to try and sleep," she gave him a sassy look. She folded her arms over her chest as well, and leaned more on one foot.

"So sassy and sarcastic," He lightly shook his head, chuckling a bit at her. "Nothing frilly or dainty like other girls."

"And you're so not like the Peter Pan I've grown up to know." She commented. This Peter didn't have a kind face, or a green hat with a feather. She hadn't even seen Tinker Bell.

Peter's face hardened. He hated how the world seemed to soften up his image. He wasn't innocent, he wasn't stupid or clueless of things, and he most certainly did not know a Wendy Darling. He had never met a Wendy Darling, nor knew anyone with such a name. He knew what kisses were and that they were not thimbles and acorns. When he received gifts, he didn't think of giving one back. The only thing that was true was that he never aged, and he did love games. Just not innocent games. His Lost Boys also weren't as stupid and unruly either. They were tough and sometimes idiotic, but not like they are portrayed in the fairytales.

"Well, darling," he said in a mocking tone, "this is nothing like your pathetic fairytales." He hissed at the curvy, yet still small girl. She took a step back, her fear being visible once again. She looked so vulnerable, and Peter silently laughed to himself about it. Pathetic, really.

"I... Uh, I'm, um gonna... go to--" But Peter cut off the stammering girl. He wasn't going to let her go to bed just yet. He wanted information. Not all of it all at once. That'd be no fun. He was smart though, and knew he'd have to start off with stupid and simple questions.

"What's your favorite color?" The question was so random and so out of place. His voice went entirely soft. His eyes looked innocent and a gentle grin played on his lips. He looked like a boy. Not some scary teenager, but a child. A small and innocent child asking an innocent question. Of course, Gardenia was taken aback from such a simple question. What did this have to do with anything? Nothing, that's what.

"T-teal?" She made it sound like a question, completely unsure of his reasoning for asking it.

"Ah yes, teal. Lovely color, isn't it?" Voice was still soft and gentle, and for a moment Gardenia believed that he was kind and innocent.

Of course she fell for it. "Right? It's such a beautiful colour. My mom used to... used... to..." Gardenia fell out of the small trance. Instead, her mind went elsewhere. She hadn't spoken to anyone about her mom or even family in years. Not since she was eleven and gave up on talking about them.

Peter wanted her to continue. Yes, he thought, tell me about your mother! Give me information! He was desperate for it. But all he got were tears from her. He tilted his head to the side, genuinely confused. He almost felt sorry for her. Something was clearly wrong. Did she miss her mom? Probably. That's how most of the boys were when they first arrived. Maybe she was homesick already?

"I'm going to bed," Gardenia mumbled, storming off.

Peter went after, wanting to know why her sudden mood change. She skipped away almost, trying to get away as quickly as possible without running. Peter, having longer legs than she, took longer strides, but eventually just floated to her.

"Little Flower, why the tears?" Sincerity was in his tone. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all? Maybe he only put up this evil front to prove that he was the boss. Gardenia couldn't be sure.

Gardenia wasn't having any of it. She pushed him away, laying down on a hammock. "It's nothing, Peter. I'm homesick." She partially lied. She was homesick of the town she grew up in, but the thoughts of her family always made her emotional.

Peter didn't know what to do. He wouldn't admit it, but he literally did not know what to do. Girls were so weak and emotional. Another reason why he was glad to never deal with them. But now there was a girl, and she was crying over nothing. She wasn't in hysterics, but tears were falling from her eyes as she silently wept. Peter once again scrunched up his face. Crying was annoying at times. He usually found it humorous, but this was flat out annoying. But he caught on that something was mentally wrong with her. Mentally damaged, which was the prime reason for her crying. Peter crossed his legs, hovering so he was next to her.

"You've cried a lot in your days, haven't you?" The girl nodded, recalling all the times when she actually did cry all the time. Now it was a rare sight to see tears fall. She was only laying there, staring up at the ceiling as tears slid down her cheeks. "What's wrong, Flower? What's upset you so much?"

"It's nothing important. I don't even want to talk about it. Please, just let me sleep," she practically begged. Peter so badly didn't want to let her sleep just yet. He wanted to talk to her. Get more information out of her. Figure her out. Why was teal her favorite color? He didn't mean for that distracting question to actually turn into something, but it did.

"Okay, goodnight then." And with that, he disappeared reluctantly, sounding mad. This girl was something else. Completely something else.