Grow Up

Fourteen

"No!" Gardenia's eyes snapped open, her green and orange hair falling into her face. The bedding was still damp from her wet clothes and hair. Her hair was drying, natural curls forming. Her skin was dry, but tiny beads of sweat ran across her cheeks and forehead.

"Quite a nightmare you were having." That chilling voice of Peter's rang from across the room. He was perched on a makeshift chair, balancing perfectly on the back of it.

Gardenia finally sat up, forgetting of the events that happened hours ago. The covers fell, exposing her chest which was still bare except for her bra. The cool breeze hit her upper abdomen, making her look down. Seeing the sight made her jolt with panic. She then took notice that her bottom half was also bare except for her underwear.

"What... What did you do to me?" She shouted at him. She didn't remember anything that happened, and her adrenaline was so far up that she didn't feel the pain from her cuts.

"Relax, Flower. I did nothing," Peter scoffed, staying put.

Gardenia got up from the bed, holding the blanket around her. She tucked it in as if it were a towel so her hands were free. "Liar," she accused.

The devilish boy smirked, raising his brows. How amusing that she didn't remember the previous events. Peter stood up from his spot, walking over to Gardenia and placing his hands on her upper forearms.

"I said I did nothing, now why don't you believe me?" His voice was husky.

Gardenia jerked herself away, hands instantly going to her blanket to fix it.

"Don't do that! Don't touch me! Take me back home now. I don't care if we're playing some stupid game, or you're testing me, or whatever! Just take me back home, Peter!" She turned around, both hands in her hair as Peter stood in his same spot.

"But you just said not to touch you. How can I take you back home if I'm not allowed to touch you?" He teased her. But now Gardenia was fuming. She swiftly turned back around, pointing a finger at him.

"Don't mess with me, Pan. Take me back. Now."

Peter didn't know she had it in her. But what took him more by surprise was how she said Pan. He didn't like it. It didn't sound right to him. He'd prefer if she called him Peter. He stood up, having enough of her attitude. He glared down at her. If looks could kill, she would've been dead.

Gardenia backed up a little now, him being too close. But he was close enough that her sneaky self snatched his dagger that always seemed to be in the holster on his belt.

"Listen here, you--" he began but got cut off.

"No, you listen here. I'm in charge now, so take me back. I don't want to be alone with you!" She held his dagger out, in a self defense stance. One hand gripped the small knife, the other clutching the blanket.

Peter for once showed a face of shock and surprise. "How did you..." He checked the holster, finding it empty. "Sneaky Little Flower you are. My question is how did I not know?" He examined her, his head racing. First he couldn't sense her on the island, couldn't read her thoughts, and now he couldn't even feel her on himself.

She pushed the dagger further in his face, the tip of it almost touching him. Thing was, Peter was always able to tell people's next moves because they thought about it, but he couldn't sense Gardenia's. Not with that move of taking his dagger. His own weapon from his person. He was quite impressed. No one could fool Peter Pan.

"I don't trust you, so take me back home." The girl shouted. "I'm not afraid to use this, you know."

Now Peter could see right through her. Terrified. Scared. Frightened. This tough act was fake. The anger she displayed moments before was not, but this was. He chuckled lowly, giving her a different kind of look. Before she knew it, Gardenia couldn't move. At all. It was like she was paralyzed. He yanked his weapon out of her hand, keeping her frozen. His evil and cold stare was back on his face. A frown present and eyebrows knitted together.

"Never take my things. Ever. You don't know what I'm capable of, Flower. I'm not afraid to treat you exactly like the Lost Boys, so don't push it."

He circled around her frozen self, eyes on the dagger. He inspected it, but quickly entered Gardenia's personal space bubble. He was behind her, blade against her neck. If she could, the girl would be shaking.

"I could kill you right now. Slit your throat." He whispered darkly, his breath hitting her neck and ear. Gardenia mustered out the tiniest whimper. Peter once again snickered at her. Pathetic. "By the way, you should trust me. I mean, I did save you from the mermaids. I could've let them take you away." With that, he let her move again.

Gardenia backed away from Peter immediately. She pressed her body against the wall, terrified of Peter. Though that's when the memories came flooding back. The game. Testing her ability to find camp. Falling into the mermaids' trap. Them nearly drowning her... the unbearable pain... Peter taking care of her.

"Why'd you take care of me?"

"And thus she finally remembers. Took you long enough." He mumbled. He inched closer to Gardenia, seeing what'd she do. She sucked in a huge breath, not letting it out. She braced herself for anything. "To answer your question, I can't have my Lost Girl dying on me yet. Especially when she hasn't been figured out."

Her eyebrows furrowed, knitting together and almost looking as if she had one brow altogether. "I'm not your Lost Girl. I told you, I'm not even Lost. I just want to go home to my... family."

"Ah, now that's where you're wrong. I know you hear my music, Little Flower. You gave it all away when you dance along with my boys."

"What does your music have to do with any of this?"

Peter chuckled darkly. This girl knew so little. She practically knew nothing of the real Peter Pan. "Don't you remember from your little faiytale about me? Those who are lost can hear the music. About only one of the things that's accurate about this place." He scoffed at the end.

That little fact blew right over Gardenia, she had completely forgotten about that minor detail. She sighed, annoyed that Peter always seemed to outsmart her. She hated the feeling he gave her when he did that. She was going to learn his ways and outsmart him back. She was going to do it.

"Just get out so I can put my clothes back on--ow," she huffed in defeat before the pain resurfaced. Her adrenaline finally went down, causing her to feel pain again.

"Not so fast, darling. Your clothes are still wet. I need to get you fresh ones." With the wave of his hand, new clothes appeared on the chair he was perched on moments ago. A magenta top that was a bit raggedy, and some black trousers that would hug her legs. On the floor in front of the chair were her shoes. Her old, worn out Vans. They were so faded they seemed gray, when they once used to be blue.

"Now I will leave. Just take it easy with those cuts," Peter pursed his lips, a smug smile forming. He disappeared from thin air, a light trail of green smoke surrounding his former presence.