Never, Never by Brianna Shrum Page A

Hook.”
    â€œTiger Lily.”
    He could barely see her at first, in the darkening night. As the flavor of metal snaked its way deeper into his throat and the leaves turned a darker shade of silver, the sky darkened as though ink was dripping down into it from space.
    When she stepped closer, his breath caught in his throat. The Indians and Lost Boys had met occasionally beyond the throes of battle, but, as he’d said to Bibble, he’d deliberately avoided Tiger Lily since he’d noticed her beginning to grow up by years, and looking it. She’d gone off from time to time with Peter and he’d seen a blurry figure of her here and there, but that was it. For his own sake, James hadn’t really seen her up close since that night so many years ago, the one he preferred not to think about, the night he found out that he was never going home again. Whereas, since he’d seen her last, he had aged five years, Tiger Lily had aged nearly ten. She couldn’t have been more than a year or two younger than him now.
    Her hair was longer than he remembered and fell in black waves to her waist, which was gently curved and impossible to look away from. The rest of her was delicate but strong, like her namesake. She smelled like rain. She cleared her throat lightly, and James realized that he had forgotten himself.
    â€œYou know me,” he said.
    â€œOf course I do. I’ve seen you around with Peter. And I’d never forget that night, when I was just a little girl. I’d never seen a boy cry like that before.”
    James was glad, then, for the dark. It hid the deep red in his face. He coughed. “Yes. Well. Not my finest hour.”
    Tiger Lily stepped a bit closer, and James thought his windpipe might constrict until he couldn’t breathe at all.He decided, then, that avoiding her all those years had been a wise decision.
    â€œYou’re bleeding.”
    â€œAm I?” Then James could feel the sting across his throat, where the blade had apparently sliced his skin.
    â€œWait here,” she commanded, stretching her hand out. As if it were possible for him to do anything else. When she returned, she was holding something wet. She gestured toward the black earth, and James sank down next to her. Then she pressed to his throat something he determined must be a sort of cloth. He hissed at the prickling pain, and Tiger Lily rolled her eyes and touched his bare skin with her free hand. James swallowed hard, a buzz of excitement flooding him with her fingers touching his throat, her chest moving lightly up and down less than an inch from his.
    â€œWhere did you get this?” she asked.
    â€œCourtesy of Peter Pan.”
    He saw something strange flicker in her eyes, and she looked away for an instant. Then, she regained composure of herself. “Is that—is he why you’re running in the middle of the night?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI am sorry.”
    He didn’t know why she should be apologizing, but didn’t press her.
    â€œI just—I wish I knew what to do.”
    Tiger Lily bit her lip. “I cannot offer you anything. Once my father has made a decision, it’s final. I’m sorry.” She hesitated for a moment, reconsidering, he hoped. But then she started up with the cloth at his neck again, swallowing what looked like guilt.
    He caught her hand as she washed the blood away from his throat, and she looked up at him.
    â€œNever apologize to me,” he said, voice gravelly and tired. Older. “Thank you for your kindness. Now and years ago.”
    She stared intently at him, and he felt his heart quicken. Then, he let her go, hearing yet another crow somewhere off in the direction of the Lost Boy camp, but likely closer. Tiger Lily heard it too.
    â€œBe safe, James Hook.”
    Tiger Lily disappeared then, and he was left alone again, mouth agape, foolishly sweaty, and not from running. But he pushed her face from his mind and made