Walking home from the local drug store, Wendy Darling carried last minute shopping. Her father had asked her to buy him some more beer and cigarettes. Wendy had just turned eighteen, so the clerk didn't mind. This town was small, so small that if something happened everyone knew about it. However, it wasn't small enough to avoid gangs from forming.
The Darling family had moved to the small secluded town of Neverland only a year ago, and during that time people had constantly asked them why. "We wanted to stop growing up." They always replied.
Wendy sighed and looked over her shoulder as she heard someone following her. It was a boy, probably sixteen or seventeen. His blond hair fell over his eyes, it was too dark to see his face anyway. He was whistling and his hands were in his pockets.
He seemed innocent enough. Wendy shrugged mentally and continued to her three-bedroom, two-story house. She opened the front door and announced, "I'm home!" She looked back once more at the boy, he was still walking, still whistling, and his hands were still in his pockets.
Her two brothers John and Michael looked up from the TV, "Hey!" John was sixteen and had black hair and round glasses. Michael was thirteen and had light brown hair and eyes. Wendy walked into the kitchen and placed the cigarettes on the table, then took out the six-pack of beer, and put them in the fridge. She took one out and walked back out to the living room. She tossed it to her father.
"Thanks, hun'." He said waving.
Mary, Wendy's mother came down the stairs, "George, how many of those have you had already?"
Wendy dodged her mother up the stairs to avoid the fight brewing. As she reached her room she heard her father bellowing. She sighed and collapsed on her bed, shifting her head to look out to the window. "Home, sweet, home." Wendy sighed. Her eyes began to droop and she fell asleep dreaming of a far away place in the stars.
Her alarm rang at seven o'clock, but it woke her up at seven thirty. She groaned and got up, someone had closed her window while she slept. She glanced at her clock and gasped. "Shit." She jumped off her bed and pulled a brush through her hair. She reached a massive tangle and screamed as she pulled out half of the hair on her head. Tears came to her eyes as she looked in the mirror. It wasn't as much as she thought it was. She sighed and grabbed some listerine, she didn't have time to brush her teeth. Wendy ran down the stairs and into the kitchen to grab a granola bar, she took a huge bite of it as she rushed outside for her bike.
Wendy pedaled as fast as she could, she was --
"Late for your first day," Her manager shook his head disapprovingly, "Not a good start, Miss Darling."
"I'm sorry, I thought I would have enough time."
He held up his hand, "No excuses." His eyes trailed to the bike she was chaining. "Maybe with enough paychecks you should buy a car."
"That's the idea."
He looked up at her, "Right." Then pointed to the front doors, "Work, now."
Wendy tied on her uniform apron and stood beside the register. She was one of the new registers. At first the day was going by slow, young girls buying magazines, boys buying food for parties, old-timers catching up on the latest gossip, mothers buying formulas. It was only until someone tapped a gun on the counter did Wendy come out of her boring work haze.
He had blond hair that fell into his eyes, it was hard to tell, but they looked dark blue. "Put all your cash in here." He pointed to the bag, and held his gun low.
Wendy's hand trembled as it opened the register, the other hand quickly tapped the security button over and over again. She had to stall him, "What's your name?"
"You're just going to report me." He glared at her.
Her voice trembled, "What gang are you in?"
He reached into his pocket and dropped a dark blue cloth on the counter. It had a picture of two swords clashing, he was a Lost Boy. The Lost Boys were only one of the two gangs in Neverland. The other was the Pirates. Whenever something was going down, it was either one of them. Wendy didn't know a whole lot about them, but she knew she signs. The Pirates were a skull and cross bones, and the Lost Boys were two clashing swords.
"How old are you?" Wendy asked trembling as she placed the bills into the bag.
He glared at her, "Why are you asking so many questions?" He looked around and saw three security guards walking toward them. "Shit! You pressed the stupid security button!" He pointed the gun at Wendy. She gasped as she stared at the barrel between her eyes. "Don't nobody move, or you'll have to go up to that intercom of yours and tell them you need a clean up in isle, erm. What isle is this?" He looked up at the glowing three. "And tell them you need a clean up on isle three!"
Wendy grimaced, was he for real?
He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a cell. The guards took a step forward, and he fired two warning shots into the ceiling. "Shit! I said don't move!" A few moments passed and a van pulled up out front. "Smell ya'll later!" He called as he grabbed the bag and ran for the exit. "You thought you could beat the Lost Boys! Fat chance!" He ran into the door.
The guards all oooed. The boy cursed and pushed the door open before running toward the van. Wendy could see the boys in there all laughing before they drove away, swerving all over the road.
Moments later the police made their grand appearance, and they questioned Wendy about how the boy looked.
"I couldn't really concentrate on his looks, I was more preoccupied staring at the gun between my eyes." She explained.
They seemed to understand, and Wendy got to leave work early so she headed home on her bike. "I'm not going to tell my parents about this. They'd freak." Wendy decided.
She chained her bike in the garage and walked in, "I'm home!" She announced. Wendy found her mother and father cuddled into each other's arms, sobbing. She sighed. They got up and gave her big hugs before scolding her for almost getting killed.
