Page 38 of Darling

Peter laughed loudly and slipped a hand under Bella’s waist to help her back up and out of her contortions.

“I’ll see you later, dove,” he said quietly.

Nibs and Curly were already starting to rise when Peter turned to the table.

“All right, let’s go,” Peter declared. “We have places to be.”

Wendy half expected both the Crocodile and Detective Hook to be lurking outside waiting for them, but the detective had left. The Crocodile was leaning against the side of the building, smoking, so out of the way and silent that Wendy didn’t spot him until he reached out a meaty arm and grabbed Peter by the wrist.

To Wendy’s surprise, Peter laughed in the Crocodile’s face and snatched his arm back. “You don’t have to get so testy,” he said. “I’ve never been late.”

Wendy looked frantically at Ominotago, but the other girl didn’t seem alarmed, just tired. Fyodor looked mildly disgusted, but also unsurprised, which made Wendy feel safer. Peter flipped open his messenger bag, handed the Crocodile an envelope, and turned away.

“More,” the Crocodile said to the back of Peter’s head with a voice that sounded like two boulders rubbing to- gether. “Tonight you’re a hassle.”

Peter scowled and whipped back around. “You’re always a hassle,” he snapped. Then he rummaged in his bag for his wallet and gave the Crocodile what looked like at least a hundred dollars.

“What the fuck?” Wendy started to say quietly, but Tinkerbelle tapped her and shook her head sharply. The Crocodile’s beady eyes snapped over to Wendy, jolting her enough for her to take a step backward. The bounty hunter looked them all up and down one by one before moving his grizzled head back to focus on Peter.

“See you next month,” the Crocodile rumbled. He flicked his cigarette, then pushed himself off the wall next to the restaurant and slunk back inside.

Peter took a steadying breath and turned back to Wendy. “Protection,” he explained. “Keeps the coppers off our backs.”

“That’s normal?” Wendy couldn’t help herself. She could make excuses in her head to rationalize a lot of things that had happened tonight, but this wasn’t one of them.

“It is for me,” Peter replied with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 10

After Detective Hook’s outburst, it was a bit easier to see the dynamic of the group as a whole. Everyone was on edge and not doing a great job of hiding their emotions. Everyone but Peter, it seemed.

Wendy watched from the back of the group as they made their way toward the train station. Minsu and Charles were doing the least to disguise their hatred and disgust toward Peter, only changing their expressions when Peter looked at them directly. Now that Charles had properly cried out his terror from nearly being arrested, he seemed more serious and way more focused on using his large body to physically block Ominotago from view. Charles looked at Peter the way one would look at a sleeping lion: wary and ready to defend himself. Fyodor refused to look at Peter at all unless directly addressed. So aggressive was his refusal to participate and determination to stay faced away that Peter loudly began pointing out when they were turning, as if he thought Fyodor was about to walk in the wrong direction.

By contrast, Nibs and Curly looked at Peter often, as if waiting for orders he hadn’t given yet. They leaned toward him the same way Tinkerbelle had leaned toward Peter in the alley when they’d first met. Nibs and Curly also moved in lockstep with Peter, like a pack, with Peter at the front. Tinkerbelle and Ominotago walked at the rear of the group. Peter seemed incredibly agitated by Ominotago’s presence, but was putting up with her for reasons Wendy didn’t yet understand. Unlike the rest of the people Wendy had met tonight, Ominotago didn’t seem afraid of Peter at all. Now that she thought about it, Ominotago was also the only person who had seriously disobeyed him and gotten away with it.

I don’t take orders from him, she’d said. Ominotago had stated that like a fact, as resolutely as Wendy would say that there were fifty states in America.

Tinkerbelle, she realized, was mimicking that. Her shouting in the alley was less impactful than Ominotago’s conversational tone. Her rebellion was always followed immediately by cowering and silence. She was fighting back without the right weapons and without durable armor.

The air around the group was thick with tension. Nine different people walking together, wrestling with Peter’s gravitational pull in their own ways while the boy himself gave off nothing at all. No fear, no guilt, no concern. Strolling down the street like the entire neighborhood was the inside of his house. Like it was midday instead of 11:33 p.m.

Wendy noticed that while his right arm swung beside him carelessly, his left hand was dipped into his messenger bag, where she knew he kept his bombs. He seemed nonchalant, but Peter was always ready.

The mood got even more anxious the longer the group walked in silence. It was beginning to feel dangerous, so Wendy decided to throw herself into the fray to ease the tension.

“So, what kind of party is this?” she asked.

To her surprise, Minsu was the one who answered. “It’s a warehouse party out in Skokie. Ominotago, Curly, and Waatese throw it once a year. It’s like a big … uh … like a show? There’s local DJs and stuff.” Minsu turned around and began walking backward. “Also, what’s your name again?”

“Wendy Darling.” Wendy stuck out her hand, remembering that Minsu had been extremely busy comforting Charles during the “get to know you” part of the bus ride.

Minsu fist-bumped Wendy’s outstretched hand chaotically instead of shaking it. “Wendy like Wendy’s™? Yikes. I’m sorry.”

Charles did a double take, but then shook his head like he was already tired of dealing with Minsu’s antics.

Minsu himself was unrepentant. He stopped walking backward but slowed down a bit so he and Wendy were walking next to each other. “I’m not sure if house music is your thing, because it’s barely mine, but pretty much everyone in CPS who is cool enough to get an invite goes to this. It’s, like, the biggest party of the year.”

“CPS?” Wendy asked. “Is that the school you go to?”