“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Peter turns to me, his eyes narrowing. “Why do you think something is wrong?”
“Because not a single one of you is ever quiet. So, if I see two of you being quiet together, something is definitely wrong.” I pop a neverberry into my mouth and chew dutifully.
He raises a brow. “Observant.”
In fact, ever since I rolled out of the pallet by the fire, got dressed, and came to the kitchen, I’ve sensed that something’s off. There’s a tension in the air. “I mean, I don’t like to brag, but I’m pretty clever.”
Coy snorts.
“Hey!” I smack his leg. “I totally am.”
He gives me a sarcastic nod. “Very much so.”
“I don’t appreciate your tone.”
“Well, I don’t?—”
“I’ve been thinking about the food,” Nibs interrupts.
“Yours is coming up, Nibs. Give me a minute. Sheesh.” Slightly casts him a dark glance.
“No.” Nibs rolls his eyes. “I’ve been thinking about why she can’t see it.”
I lean forward. This is definitely important information. I need those waffles, damnit! “Okay, hit me.” My hands stray to my temples, and I rub them in slow circles.
“Headache?” Peter asks.
“It’s fine. I think maybe I got tense or ground my teeth or something in my sleep. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about your whispering over there, but I have bigger fish to fry at themoment.” I keep rubbing and look back at Nibs. “How do I get the food, Nibs? Tell me.”
“You don’t believe.” Nibs points to his plate. “You don’t believe there’s a stack of waffles right there, dripping with syrup and?—”
“Oh, I want to believe.” I stare at his plate and do my best to will the waffles into existence. “I want to believe so bad I can nearly taste it.” I lick my lips and imagine sweet syrup and deliciously warm waffles. Even so, nothing appears on the plate.
“Ugh!” I slap my palm on the table. “I want waffles! Ibelievein waffles. Waffles are pretty much my god at the moment, so where are the damn waffles?”
Coy hides his grin behind his hand, and Foy pretends to be inspecting something on the granite wall.
“Interesting.” Nibs sits back. “Maybe it’s because you’re a grownup.”
My mouth drops open at that. “Have you looked at yourself lately, Nibs? You’re older than I am!”
“Island time isn’t the same as mainland time, Moira, especially not since Hook began siphoning off its magic.” He takes off his round glasses and polishes them on his shirt. “My point is that I came to Neverland when I was still a boy, so I already believed in magic. Maybe because you came to Neverland when you were already a grownup, you’re sort of … stunted in that area of?—”
“Stunted?” I can’t believe this guy.
“Nibs.” Peter waves a hand at him, trying to shush him.
It doesn’t work.
“No, I’m simply saying that once you become a grownup, it’s as if you’re immune to believing in things that would’ve been as easy as breathing for you when you were a child. You came to Neverland outside of—let’s call it the ‘window of magic’—so it’s more difficult for you to see the waffles.”
“But I can see Tinker Bell,” I counter. “And the island. And all sorts of things that are magical—like the mermaid.”
“She has a point,” Peter chimes in.
Nibs settles his glasses on his nose and loops them behind his ears. “Certainly. But all those things have their own intrinsic magic. Waffles are just … well, they’re just waffles.”
