Neverland Academy

by Daelynn Quinn

  “I’m saying that if I think my brothers or I will be in danger, yes I will leave.”

  “Daffy I would never intentionally put you in danger.”

  “What about tonight, Finn?” Daphne broke out of his grip and stood up. “I understand the thrill you get out of this. But we’re not all invincible. Trappe had me by the throat. I couldn’t breathe! Is that not dangerous enough for you?”

  Finn’s expression sank. For once, he could see that Daphne was right. She was in serious danger tonight. And it was because of him, because he’d let his guard down.

  “I’m sorry Daffy. That shouldn’t have happened. I was careless.” Finn paused to look at the rippling water on the lake, streaked with orange and red. He seemed to be reflecting inward, making a decision. “Look, I won’t let it go. But I can do something else. Something that won’t hurt any innocents.”

  “Like what?” Daphne asked. Finn stood up, meeting her face to face.

  “Shag has a stash of pot he regularly steals from students. I could plant it in one of the professors’ rooms and anonymously report it.”

  “That would be hurting the professor,” Daphne chided.

  “I said I wouldn’t hurt innocents. Professor Vermin—he’s a perv. Once, Lily said she caught him peeping into her room from that big pecan tree outside the house. And when I was a student here, a lot of the boys in my class were really uncomfortable around him. They never said anything, but I’m sure he touched them or something. Daffy, he deserves this. We’ll get rid of him and, as a bonus, the police sirens will freak out Trappe, sending him the message he needs.”

  “Police sirens?”

  Finn nodded. “Ever since I reported Trappe five years ago he’s had this paranoia about police. Whenever he hears sirens he clams up and hides, like they are coming to get him. It’s hilarious, actually, watching him cower in his room. So what do you think? Will you stay?”

  “Okay,” Daphne conceded. “That seems fair enough.”

  Daphne started to sit back down, but Finn grabbed her hand and yanked her back up. His other hand cradled the small of her back and tugged her closer.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. Once again, Daphne was mesmerized by his eyes, which seemed to be glowing with the remnants of the fading sunlight. His onyx hair hung down in scraps over his forehead and as he closed in on her she could feel them tickle her own forehead. Despite her attempted resistance, she leaned into him. She was trapped. There was no escape this time. That fullness in the pit of her stomach made sure of it. Softly, he brushed his lips against hers, teasing rather than moving too swiftly. Daphne ached for a kiss more intense, more passionate. But he held back, savoring the moment with breath-like movements.

  Daphne couldn’t take it any longer. She needed him to kiss her. She reached up around the back of Finn’s head and grasped his hair, pulling him sharply toward her. He did not resist. They fell to the ground, bits of wild grass scratching their exposed arms. Daphne’s back fell on top of the bug spray can and she rolled over on top of Finn. Finn’s hand slipped under her shirt and traced her spine. She longed to feel this way for so long. But they were moving too fast. Her back arched up when he reached her bra strap.

  “We shouldn’t,” Daphne said, once she’d come to grips with herself. Her breath came in gasps.

  “Why not?” Finn asked. He kissed her neck. “We’re human. It’s natural. And who’s to stop us? Why should society dictate what we do and what we don’t do?”

  “That’s not what I mean, Finn.” Daphne slid off of him and sat, hugging her knees to her chest. She wanted this just as badly as he did. But she still had some rational thought left over from her life before Neverland Academy.

  “Then what?” Finn asked, sitting up and slinging his arm over his knee. Daphne could feel his stare weighing on her, but she was afraid to look at him. Afraid he would see what she was really feeling, that she longed for him just as he did her.

  “You don’t want a relationship. You made that clear when I came here.”

  “That’s right. So what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is, I don’t want to get hurt.”

  “Daffy, I wouldn’t . . . oh. I get it.” Immediately Finn grew distant, like his consciousness had teleported to another dimension. The air turned instantly frigid and Finn picked up a rock, hurling it at the lake. They both watched in awkward silence as the ripples floated out.

  “Maybe we should go,” Daphne murmured. Her emotions had taken a sharp turn and all she wanted was to be alone.

  “You think you can get back on your own?” Finn asked coldly. “I’m not ready to go back yet.”

  “Yeah,” Daphne whispered. She climbed to her feet and began to leave. Stopping at the entrance, she glanced back at Finn. He was still sitting on the grass staring at the lake as if she weren’t even there. She wondered if she would regret this night. In a way, she already did. The sun had disappeared now, and the sky behind Finn’s silhouette was pale with twilight. Even without the light shining on his face, Daphne could tell he was having some serious cogitation. She wished she knew what he was really feeling. Did he really have no interest in a committed relationship? Or had he built his own protective wall, as Daphne had? One thing she knew for sure, she had to harden her heart if she intended to remain at the academy any longer.

  With a small flashlight in hand, Daphne looked down at her palm, where she had retraced Finn’s map every morning, and entered the tunnel.

  Chapter Sixteen

  So Right

  When Daphne awoke the following morning, Finn was still asleep. A plate with sausage, hash browns, and scrambled eggs sat on a shelf against the wall next to wadded up tin foil that held biscuits. Most of the boys had already eaten and there was plenty left for Finn and Daphne. But she didn’t have much of an appetite.

  “Hey, Daffy,” Hangman called out. Toot, Shag, and Kevin were noticeably missing. Only Trick and Hangman were in the cellar, lounging on the pillows reading.

  “Morning,” Daphne replied. Her voice sounded like she’d swallowed a spoonful of gravel.

  “Late night, huh?”

  “Not really. At least not for me,” she lied. It took her hours to go to sleep last night. Her brain just wouldn’t shut up. It worried her that she stayed up so late, and Finn still hadn’t come back. “Did you talk to Finn?”

  “Nope. I have no idea when he got in, but must have been some time this morning. I thought you two were together last night.”

  “We were, but I came back early.”

  “Did you get the booze?”

  Daphne froze. She had left Finn with the bottle last night. The way she’d left him, she didn’t know what state he had been in. She hoped he hadn’t spent all night drinking it.

  “Sort of. I think Finn has it.” She recounted the details of their heist in Trappe’s bedroom and how they’d just narrowly escaped him.

  “I guess that explains the marks on your neck,” Hangman remarked. Daphne felt around her collarbone and winced at the bruise that had developed there. She hadn’t realized it left a mark. Or maybe Finn had done that. She blushed at the thought.

  “Where’re the others?” Daphne asked.

  “Out at the lake, taking their weekly bath,” Hangman replied.

  “Wanna join them?” Trick asked with a quiet smirk.

  “I’ll pass. Besides, I need to start decorating for Lily’s party tonight. Any idea where I can get some crepe paper and balloons?” Daphne asked facetiously.

  Hangman sent a sidelong glance at Trick. “I think we can cook something up. Come with me.”

  ***

  “Geronimo!” Toot cried out as he took a long running jump, scooped his knees under his arms, and plummeted toward the water, his skin as bare as a newborn baby. Three little piles of clothes gathered in the tall grass at the lake’s edge. As he surfaced, the two older boys sent wild splashes into his face.

  “Stop!” he yelled, but they wouldn’t let up. They were like the big brother
s he thankfully never had. They didn’t always pick on Toot, though. Sometimes they really were like family: sticking together when times were rough, helping him adjust to the outcast boys’ way of life, and letting him participate in pranks. That was the best part.

  Finally, Toot ducked his head under water. He could see the shadows that were his friends’ legs faintly through the muddy brown fog. Swimming around behind one of them—he thought it was Shag, but he wasn’t totally sure because of the murky water—Toot inserted his foot between the boy’s legs and gave a quick, upward thrust.

  When he came up for air, Shag was hunched over, listing every swear word Toot had ever heard, and even a few he hadn’t. Shag lunged at Toot. Toot tried to dodge him, but the water made his movement too slow, and he was crushed under the weight of Shag’s hands pressing him down. He struggled, flailing his arms and legs. The weight lifted off his head and he had just enough time to take a quick gasp of air before he was shoved under again.

  The next time he came up, Kevin yanked Shag back, throwing him into the water. Toot fanned his arms back and forth, trying to stay afloat while catching his breath.

  “You okay, Toot?” Kevin asked. Toot regurgitated some murky water back into the lake and nodded. “Sorry little man, you know we were just messing with you, right?”

  “Yeah,” Toot said breathlessly. “Whatever.”

  “That teaches you for kicking me in the nads,” Shag said, flipping his hair back. This was the only time any of the boys would see Shag’s forehead. He almost looked alien to them.

  “Well you wouldn’t stop splashing me.”

  “Yeah?” Shag said as he bulldozed a wave of water toward Toot. Toot countered the splash with one of his own. Poor Kevin was stuck in the middle.

  “Hey, you two! Quit it!”

  Suddenly Shag and Toot seemed to forget about their differences and teamed up against Kevin. Within a minute all three boys were laughing like the best of friends that they were.

  “So guys, about that party tonight . . .” Shag started, and then twisted his head from side to side, as if looking for eavesdroppers.

  “Yeah?” Kevin said after a pause. “What about it?”

  “I was thinking about making a move on Daffy.”

  “What kind of move?” Toot asked naively.

  Shag gave him a light shove on the shoulder. “You know, Toot, sometimes I think you really are too young to be one of us.”

  “Shut up!” Toot shouted.

  “But what about Finn?” Kevin asked, interrupting the little spat.

  “What about Finn?”

  “You know he and Daffy are pretty close. I think there might be something going on between them already.”

  “There’s nothing going on between them,” called out a mousy voice from the tall grass by the tunnel entrance. All three boys craned to find the source. Belle sauntered out, the skirt of her lemon yellow sundress ruffling as her hips swayed from side to side, as if trying to seduce the boys. “Finn doesn’t like Daffy like that.”

  “How do you know?” Shag asked, oblivious to the fact that she was quickly approaching his pile of crumpled–up clothes.

  “Because he told me. He’s only using her to entrap Uncle Byron. Once he’s done with her, he’s kicking her out of the club. But hey, if you and Daffy hook up maybe he’ll let her stay. Who knows?”

  “Wait a minute,” Kevin interrupted. “He told you this? And not us? I don’t know. That doesn’t sound like Finn.”

  “He only told me because I hate the girl. He knows I wouldn’t tell her. I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this.”

  “So you think I should go for it?” Shag asked optimistically.

  “Absolutely.” A devilish smile stretched across Belle’s cheeks. She looked down at her feet where the lump of smelly fabric lay. “Here,” she said as she kicked the clothes into the lake. They floated on the surface, slowly sucking in the dirty water. “These need washing.”

  ***

  Trappe pounded his fist into his desk as if trying to restart a dead heart inside it. It thundered with each hit and a crack began to form at the corner.

  “Smeed!” he growled, pushing the intercom button. “Get in here!”

  He paced back and forth like a three-legged lion trapped on a zoo island, eying the spectators with a hungry stare. He had to gain control over the academy. He wouldn’t let Finn run the show and make him look like a bumbling pigeon who couldn’t run his own property.

  Within minutes Smeed had stumbled in, nearly tripping over his own feet, which were too small for his legs anyway.

  “Smeed. We have a problem.”

  “I-is this about the Glenfiddich, sir?”

  “The Glenfiddich,” Trappe closed his eyes and lifted his nose to the ceiling as if smelling a delicate fine wine. “Did I tell you that was an original 1937 vintage? Impossible to find anymore. From my own father’s collection. We shared a quaff while he was on his deathbed. And now it’s gone. Wasted on that damned parasite and his litter.” Trappe hung his head as he leaned against his desk. “No. It’s not about the Glenfiddich.”

  “Sir?”

  “I need ideas. I need you to brainstorm. There must be a way for us to find him. Drive him out.”

  “Last night, you said there was a girl with him?” Smeed suggested.

  “There was.”

  “And what was their relationship?”

  “How the hell would I know?”

  “Did they seem close?”

  “He urged her to run away while he remained in the room to distract me. It’s more than he would do for one of his toadies.”

  “Perhaps she is his weakness.”

  “A girl?” Trappe almost laughed. “Are you suggesting that roach might have developed some feelings for a girl?”

  “He is a teenaged boy, after all. And well past puberty.”

  “That boy’s as obdurate and apathetic as they come. If anything he’s using her for some purpose. Or was anyway. After last night’s incident she’s bound to be long gone by now.”

  “Is there anything else you can tell me about last night. Anything he said? Anything she said? And how did they get away?”

  “Come with me, Smeed.”

  Trappe led Smeed down the hall to his own bedchamber. Trappe usually allowed nobody in his bedroom. Not even his closest companions. As Smeed gazed in awe at the grand four poster bed centered in the huge bedroom, Trappe stomped over to the bureau and shoved it aside, revealing the massive opening Finn had left behind.

  “My word,” Smeed gasped. He hustled over to the gaping hole and peered into the darkness.

  “Don’t even try to enter,” Trappe warned. “It’s much too narrow.”

  “How far does it go?”

  “I don’t know. As it is, my only option seems to be to knock out all the walls until I reach him. Unless you can come up with a better plan. I sure would hate to destroy this antebellum era wallpaper.”

  “Perhaps there are more of these, uh, doors. There must be! We know he has accessed different places in the facility. He couldn’t have possibly come through here every time.”

  “Yes, but where?” Before Smeed could respond, Trappe answered his own question. “The library.”

  ***

  The grid of bookcases towered over the men like an enormous tic-tac-toe board. Morning sunlight poured in through the east windows, highlighting the dust motes stirred up from Trappe’s hands brushing across the shelves. He was like a kid on an Easter egg hunt. Only his treasure was much more valuable to him than a chocolate bunny.

  He wondered if there was some specific book that, if pulled, would reveal a hidden door behind a bookcase, just as he’d seen in many movies. He really never spent much time in the library, even when he was a boy. If he wanted a book, he’d have Smeed or some other assistant fetch it for him so he didn’t have to be near those irritating students.

  Trappe’s hands glided along every crease and crevice of the bookshelves. Every time h
e thought he’d found something it turned out to be no more than a narrow space between the boards.

  “Find anything yet?” Trappe asked.

  Smeed worked along another side of the room, where bookcases stood perpendicular to the wall. He, too, searched thoroughly, but found nothing.

  “No, sir. Perhaps there’s not an entrance in here.”

  “There is,” Trappe declared. “The way he appeared in here all those years ago. And then simply vanished.”

  “He could have closed it up, for fear that you may have spotted it.”

  Trappe’s lips pressed together in a hard line as he contemplated Smeed’s idea.

  “No. That boy likes taking risks. He lives for it. Keep searching.”

  An odd sound began to ring in Trappe’s ears. It was just his nerves, he told himself. He was on edge from his recent transgressions with Finn. The sound couldn’t possibly be real. He was just imagining it. But it seemed to intensify as if somebody was slowly turning the volume up. The variation of low to high pitch caused his heart to panic every time it reached the climax of its song. His arms began to prickle as his hair stood on end.

  “Sir?” Smeed called out.

  Trappe sucked in his breath and bounced back in alarm.

  “Please tell me I’m hearing things,” Trappe muttered.

  “Sir, there’re two police cars in the driveway.”

  ***

  “Toilet paper? Seriously?”

  Daphne crinkled her nose and pinched a strip from the roll as if it had already been used.

  “Sure,” Hangman said, beaming. “It’s really not all that different from crepe paper. And it’s free and easily accessible.”

  “But it’s white. Who has white decorations at a birthday party?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Kevin’s working on something to spice up the color in here.” Hangman reached into the box he had brought to the cellar and pulled out a roll of brown paper towels, also presumably stolen from one of the boy’s restrooms.