Neverland Academy (3 page)

“Apparently
neither are you,” Daphne retorted, letting her gaze scan him from head to toe,
but she refused to meet his eyes. There was something intimidating about this
boy. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was something about him
that made her incredibly nervous.

The
boy smiled, showing off a perfect set of teeth.

“What
are you doing here?” he asked, leaning back against the bookcase and crossing
his arms in a cocky manner.

Daphne
twitched nervously. Surely this guy wasn’t old enough to be a professor, was
he? “I was just sending an email. See, my parents haven’t set up the Internet
at our house yet and I just needed to get in touch with some old friends
from—”

“No
not here, in the library. I mean what are you doing at the academy? Don’t tell
me Professor Pervpot has changed the rules to allow girls in.”

“Professor
who?”

The
boy rolled his eyes and sighed. “Trappe?”

“No!”
Daphne laughed. “My brothers are starting school here. We came to help them
move in and do the tour and stuff, which was incredibly boring, I might add.
And speaking of Trappe, is it just me or is he a really creepy guy?”

“Don’t
I know it.”

For
the first time Daphne met his eyes and did not look away. She was dazzled by
the clarity of them. It was like somebody sliced a lime in half and stuck the
two halves in his eyeballs, with the flesh facing out. She’d never seen green
eyes that looked so bright and clear. She struggled to look away, but couldn’t.
His gaze remained on her, audacious and enraptured.

“So
you’re into computers, huh?”

“Kind
of,” Daphne replied humbly.

“Kind
of? Really? What you just did seemed like the work of a seasoned hacker.”
Daphne trembled a little. Would she get in trouble? Who was this guy?

“Don’t
worry,” he said, catching on to her nervousness. “I won’t tell. What’s your
name?”

“Daphne,”
she said. She instinctively turned toward the entrance of the library when
voices drifted in from the foyer. Daphne could hear the distinct voice of
Headmaster Trappe approaching along with her mother’s gentle voice. She turned
back to the boy. “What’s yours?”

But
he was gone. Daphne walked along the computer tables, peeking down each aisle
of bookcases, but the boy was nowhere in sight. He just seemed to disappear.

“There
she is.” Daphne turned at the sound of her father’s voice. He was standing in
the library, her mother and Trappe behind him. “Daphne, it’s time to go.”
Relief flooded her and she was the first to reach the Escalade and buckle up.

Daphne
spent the entire fifteen-minute ride home thinking about the boy with no name.
How could he have just vanished into thin air? She was looking at the entrance
to the library when he disappeared, so it was impossible he could have left
that way. But there were no other doors in the room, especially in the corner
where she met him. The windows were all shut and Daphne doubted they could even
be opened as old as they were. Could he have been a ghost? His eyes did look
unearthly. But maybe she’d just imagined him. He was definitely too
good-looking to be one of the boring students there. Daphne sighed. It didn’t
matter. She was going to start school next week. And her life would continue to
be miserable.

Chapter
Three

 
Beneath the Surface

Bare feet padded
the dank cellars
underneath Neverland Academy so silently not even one of the many resident rats
bothered to skitter away. His body melted into the darkness. The boy had
traveled the tunnels so often and for so long he didn’t need light to find his
way. He only needed intuition. All but his glowing irises were invisible to the
naked eye. There was no disguising the light in his eyes. But fortunately he
needn’t worry. Nobody lurked in the tunnels except for him and the outcasts,
those boys lost to the academy. Still, keeping quiet was essential. Trappe knew
Finn still roamed the academy. He just didn’t have the acumen to find and
extricate him.

Finn
slipped into a narrow galley where, at the end, he nimbly climbed a hanging
rope ladder. There had once been a wooden ladder fitted into the wall, but the
most of the rungs had rotted with age and mildew and the few that remained
creaked with the weight of a toenail.

The
boy continued his journey through the hollow walls of Neverland Academy until
he came upon a pinhole in one of them. Behind him, on the opposite wall from
the hole, illuminated by the ribbon of light shining through it, was “Belle’s
room” scribbled in black ink.

“Belle!”
whispered the boy with the green eyes. He peered through the pinhole. A teenage
girl, barely old enough to drive, was lying asleep on a bed covered with a
patchwork quilt of yellows and pinks. Her short, strawberry blond hair was
pulled back into a ponytail as much as possible, and the wisps that wouldn’t
reach framed her fragile face. One wavy tendril dangled in front of her nose,
shifting with each inhale and exhale, like curtains by an open window. It
wasn’t unusual for her to be napping mid-afternoon. It was quite normal,
actually.

Finn
pushed firmly, but gently, on the wall until he could slide his fingers into
the crease that opened up. Along with the wall panel he had to slide a side
table aside to enter, and as he did, the girl roused.

She
inhaled sharply and pulled the quilt to her chin as she sat up against the
wall, clapping her head against it.

“Ouch!”
she cried and clawed at the back of her head. Then, she angled her eyebrows
upon seeing the boy she recognized.

“Pres—Finn!
I told you don’t do that!” she shouted in a whisper.

Finn’s
brows furrowed in a look of warning. “I told you don’t call me that, Belle.”

“I
know.” Belle relaxed and rubbed her eyes with the pads of her fingertips. “I’m
sorry, Finn. I forgot. But as you can see I was sleeping. You didn’t have to
barge in here like that. Can’t you just throw rocks at my window like normal
boys?”

 
“Me? Normal? You do know who you’re
talking to, right?”

Belle
sighed, rolling her eyes. “Of course. What was I thinking?”

“Sleeping
in the middle of the day again?”

“I
have you to thank for that.”

“Why
do you act so regretful? You have to admit, that was fun. Don’t deny it.”
Finn’s eyes sparkled and dimples flashed as his lips turned up. Belle smirked.

“Of
course I did. But we’ve got to lay low for a while, Finn. I think Uncle Byron
is on to me. That’s kind of why I’m here.”

Finn’s
eyes shot toward the white-painted door on the opposite end of the bedroom. “He
locked you in again?”

Belle
nodded. “So what better use of my time than to take a long nap.” She
exaggerated a yawn and fell back against her pillow.

“You
could come hang with me and the boys.”

“Maybe
after the next check in. He’s been sending someone every two to three hours to
make sure I’m still here.”

“Cool.”
Finn scratched his head nervously. “Hey, I need to ask a favor.”

“No,
Finn. No. I’m not helping you do any more of those stupid pranks. I told you
he’s on to me.”

“No,
no. Not that. I need you to find someone. A street address is all I need
really.”

“Find
someone?” Belle’s face scrunched up. “Who on earth would you need me to find?”

“There
was this girl down in the library today.”

“A
girl?” Belle’s words were laced with jealousy and disbelief. She caught herself
and quickly tried to cover it up. “I mean, a girl . . .
here
?”

“Yes,
a girl. Listen, she was on the computers and hacked the system’s pass code
within a manner of seconds. You know what this means? I think she could be the
one.”

“Seriously?”
The incredulity in Belle’s voice weighed heavily on her slumped shoulders.

“She
said her brothers just started here today.” Belle rose from the bed and plodded
lazily over to a mirrored vanity. She yanked the band out of her hair and began
to brush it brutally. “Maybe if you could nab their files or somehow talk to
them and get them to tell you—”

“How
many times do I have to tell you he’s on to me, Finn?” Belle snapped acidly. “I
can’t just sneak in there and take the files.”

“There’s
something you can do. I know it.” Finn approached Belle from behind and gently
placed his hands upon her trembling shoulders. They stilled instantly. “Belle,
please. Do this for me. I’ll owe you one.”

“You’ll
owe me more than one,” Belle scoffed. In the mirror, she glared up at his tall
figure looming behind her. She was a tiny girl, born prematurely at six months,
and never really caught up with other kids her age. But despite her size, she
could be as tough as any of the guys and her attitude as caustic as sulfuric
acid.

Finn
chuckled. “Okay, more than one.” He smacked a kiss on her cheek and left the
room so silently Belle wondered why he couldn’t have entered that way.

Belle
sighed and dropped morosely into the chair at her vanity. The puff of air she
blew out flipped up the wisps of hair that fell over her eyes. She cupped her
cheek, still feeling flutters on the spot Finn’s lips touched. Would he ever
know her as more than a friend? Would she ever be his girlfriend, instead of
just one of the guys? Belle never had the courage to tell him straight up, but
she’d sent so many hints of her affection for him he’d have to be a complete
moron not to catch on. But he wasn’t a moron, she knew. His intelligence surpassed
her own, easily.

A
familiar rap at the door announced Belle’s forthcoming freedom. “I’m here!” She
called, and then mumbled to herself, “but not for long . . .”

Belle
jumped when the door cracked open with a squeal reminiscent of the old souls
who used to occupy the skeleton of the old home. But she didn’t turn. She could
see her uncle’s grim face in the mirror’s reflection as he hobbled in on his
cane.

“What
a surprise uncle,” Belle grumbled. “I was expecting one of your obnoxious
bootlickers again.” Belle toyed with the makeup on her vanity, brushing powder
over her face as if she were scrubbing a bloodstain from the floor.

“I’ve
been occupied with some new students and their family all day. Now, about last
night—”

“New
students?”

“That’s
what I said.”

“Who
are they?”

“That,
my dear, is none of your concern. What is, however, of your concern are the
consequences of your own delinquent behavior.”

“It
was just a stupid prank, Uncle Byron. It won’t happen again.”

“No,
it will not,” Trappe growled. “Professor Ryder has had to shave his hair and
even that hasn’t eliminated the blue stain from his scalp.” Belle snickered,
recalling the previous night’s escapades of replacing the crotchety professor’s
shampoo with neon blue dye.

“You
won’t be laughing, my dear, when I put you in the discipline room.” Belle’s
face grew taut. She met Trappe’s angry eyes with her own, filled with terror.

“No,
uncle, please,” she begged. “I said it wouldn’t happen again. I’ll apologize to
Professor Ryder. I’ll do anything. I swear!”

Trappe
sighed and paced the room. He ended up standing beside the vanity and gazed out
the window. “I’ll let it go this time, only because you are technically family.
But the next time something goes amiss I will harbor no leniency. Consider this
your final warning.” With that, Trappe tromped out of the room, slamming the
door behind him so hard that a framed picture fell from the wall and glass
shattered over the old wood plank floor. Belle scrambled to pick up the pieces
of her shattered past.

She
held the picture, faded and wrinkled with age. In it, a beautiful woman with
long, flowing strawberry blond hair held an infant, no more than three months
old. A man with light brown hair, the color of honey, cradled them both in his
arms. Belle had no memory of her parents. They’d died when she was only three.
She’d been raised at Neverland Academy. No person in particular attended to
her, but she’d found a family in the work staff who took care of the needs of
faculty and students. One woman in particular, Janine, had almost treated her
like a daughter. Janine was a cook, but always took the time to read to Belle
and tend to her ailments, like only a mother would. Her own daughter Lily,
lived at the academy as well, but she was put to work at a young age and not
given the same luxuries as Belle. Since girls were not permitted at the
academy, Trappe hired a private tutor to give Belle daily lessons. He came for
two hours in the morning, which was plenty of time when Belle committed herself
to the work. It was easy to do, considering how much she hated the guy. She
studied extra hard to get it over with sooner.

Belle
was saddened when she looked at the photograph, but she did not cry. She never
cried. And she tried never to show weakness. In a place filled with boys and
men, she strived to be their equal. That was why she ended up allying herself
with Finn and the outcasts. They never treated her like a pathetic little girl.
They appreciated her strength. If only Finn could see that she was more than
one of the guys without betraying her pride.

Belle
picked up the large pieces of glass and swept the others using two magazines,
one as a brush and one as a dustpan, dropping them into the wastebasket among
crumpled papers and used Q-tips. Then she shrugged on a hoodie and slipped into
the secret panel in the wall.

Chapter Four

Imprisoned

The loneliness of
laying on a bed
without a phone to text anyone was stifling to Daphne. Her fingers twitched
with the insatiable need for some fine motor activity, preferably with an
electronic device. She should have felt a sense of unconditional freedom with
the acres open space surrounding her new home, no obligations to friends or
school yet, and nothing but empty time slots before school starts; but instead
she was suffocating. She needed a connection to the outside world, a beacon to
draw human relationships to her. Or at least a melodic chorus of honks and
resonating engines to remind her of home.

She
lay there staring at the ceiling, listening to the gusty wind blow the boughs
of a maple tree just outside her window. One of the longer limbs scratched at
her window and she turned in alarm. Lightning flashed. For a brief moment she
could have sworn she saw a pair of eyes staring at her. Unearthly green eyes.
She shot up out of her bed. How could he be
here
? How could he possibly know where she lived when he didn’t even know
her name?

Daphne
turned off the lamp on her bedside table so she could get a better view of the
outside. The darkness that lurked beyond the window was still too dense without
the light of the moon and stars to break it up. Still, she could see more
clearly without the glare projecting her reflection in the window.

She
brushed her fingertips over the pane of glass and peered out. Huge droplets of
rain splattered against the side of the house in the beginnings of a summer
thunderstorm. Lightning struck again—a long one, followed by a shorter
flash and then a heart-stopping crack of thunder. Long enough for Daphne to see
that there was nobody outside. How could there be? Nobody would be stupid
enough to hang around outside during a thunderstorm. And even if he was,
Daphne’s bedroom was on the second floor. The only way she could have seen him
was if he had climbed the tree. And there’s no way he could’ve climbed down
that fast. No, it was nothing. Daphne laughed at her folly. Why was she even
thinking of this boy? What was it about him that intrigued her so? He was
dirty, obnoxious, and possibly didn’t even exist. Yet the mystery surrounding
him was magnetic.

A
rap at the door tugged Daphne away from the window with a start. Mrs. Werring
appeared, a silhouette in the sliver of light between the door and the jamb.

“Daphne?
Why are you standing there in the dark?” Her mother entered and flipped the
light switch on. Daphne squinted as her eyes burned in the incandescent light
from the ceiling fan.

“I
was just watching the storm.” Her mother’s eyes darted to the window and then
back to Daphne.

“Oh,”
she said, looking relieved when the lightning flashed again. “We’re heading out
to dinner now. There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge.” Mrs. Werring
hesitated. This was usually the part where she told Daphne that no friends were
allowed to come over, but that wouldn’t be necessary to mention tonight. Daphne
didn’t have any friends here yet. Instead, she’d said, “We won’t be long.”

Daphne
read between the lines. What Mrs. Werring really said, though in her own words,
was “We don’t know when we’ll return, but I don’t want you to think you have
plenty of time to get into trouble.” Normally she would resent her mother for
thinking she was so stupid to fall for it. But tonight, she simply smiled and
said, “Okay.”

Tonight
was the night Rocks would be playing with his band in Athens. Mr. and Mrs.
Werring would be downtown near the club, but Daphne was confident she wouldn’t
be caught.
 
It was Friday night and
the streets would be overflowing with drunk college students looking to party.

She
sat silently on her bed in the darkness of her room. Waiting. Waiting, until
she heard the growling of the garage door opening and she saw the red
taillights disappear into the black beyond Morton Road.

She’d
have to be quick if she were to go to the show and be back before her parents
got home. Daphne bolted to the bathroom to fix her hair into a high ponytail
with ribbons of black and burgundy tresses raining down the sides of her face.
She dabbed on some lip-gloss and mascara—all she really had time for. The
closet stared back at Daphne for the few minutes she couldn’t decide what to
wear. Then she realized it wasn’t that important and threw on a black tank,
black jeans, chain link belt and chunky boots.

Daphne
tromped across the hall to her parents’ bedroom and headed straight for her
father’s armoire, the place where he always kept hidden that which was
forbidden to Daphne and her brothers. In her younger days, she would find
birthday and Christmas presents buried under crisply folded shirts and
underwear. Sometimes she would find receipts for larger gifts that wouldn’t fit
inside the armoire. Tonight, however, what Daphne was searching for was plenty
small enough to fit in one of the cubbies on the top shelf. She stood tiptoed
on an antique armchair to reach the top shelf where she found the keys to her
mother’s BMW. It was effortless. And while Daphne was reaching, her fingers
slid across something else she desired. Her heart warmed when she caressed the
sleek surface of the device and she felt instant comfort. No mac-n-cheese
needed. Just her iPhone.

Hopping
off the chair, Daphne sat at its edge, pushed the power button, and waited
impatiently for the phone to turn on. Much to her dismay, it was dead.

After
about a minute of contemplation she ran downstairs and placed it on her
mother’s charger. She could wait a few minutes, just to check her messages
before she leaves. No sooner had Daphne done that than she heard a sharp
tapping at the window above the kitchen sink. She had hoped it was just the
wind blowing a wayward branch against the glass. But the tapping was much more
intentional, rhythmic. Her pulse quickened as she warily approached the glass.
A thought passed through her mind for a moment, that maybe she should just stay
home and keep the doors locked. She saw the movie,
Scream,
once and it terrified her to think somebody could be
out there waiting for the right moment to attack a vulnerable teenage girl.

Then
she saw the eyes. Those lime-green eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. She
shook her head, convinced that she was imagining it again. But when she looked
back a dimpled smile appeared just below them as if the Cheshire cat were
appearing before her eyes. Daphne stood across from the window staring,
dumfounded. The boy tapped again.

“Are
you alone? Can I come in?” his muffled voice carried through the glass.

Daphne
snapped out of her trance and reached across the sink, wrenching the window
open.

“Who
are you? How do you know where I live? What are you doing here?”

“It’s
wet,” the boy said. And wet it was. His face glistened with streaks of rain.
His raven hair was plastered to his head like a swim cap. His tee shirt stuck
to his figure as if he were wearing nothing at all. “Can I come in please?”

“Not
until you answer me. I don’t even know you.”

“My
name is Finn. Your brothers gave me your address. And I’m here to say hi.”

“Hello,”
Daphne said blankly. “Now, goodbye.” She slammed the window shut in Finn’s
face. She didn’t need some crazy boy stalking her. Not tonight. She had too
much to do and barely enough time to pull it off. But he was not chagrinned by
Daphne’s blatant rejection. His smile broadened and he disappeared into the
storm, which was beginning to wind down. When Daphne peered out the window
again, he was nowhere to be found. She went to the front door and peered out
the side windows. He wasn’t there either. She sighed a breath of relief and
grabbed the keys to her mother’s car.

The
garage door hummed open while Daphne tossed her purse into the passenger seat
and climbed in. She started the engine, checked her face in the mirror, and
placed her hand on the shifter—where another hand was waiting for her.
Daphne’s heart leapt into her throat, choking her for a moment. She swallowed
it down when she found the glowing green eyes smirking at her from the
passenger seat. His other hand held her sunshine yellow purse.

“How
did you—”

“I
can be very discreet, Daphne.”

“How
do you know my name?”

“You
told me, remember? In the library.”

“Yeah,
but you—”

“Like
I said, I can be very discreet.”

“What’s
this all about? Why are you really here? And don’t tell me it’s to say hi. That’s
the stupidest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re
right. I’m not here just to say hi. I like you Daphne.”

“You
don’t know me . . . what did you say your name was again?”

“Finn.”

“Finn.
What kind of name is that?” The boy did not answer, but simply grinned at
Daphne. “You don’t even know me Finn. How can you say you like me?”

“True,
I don’t know you that well, but I’d like to. There’s something about you that
makes me think you’d get along great with my friends and me. I think you’d like
hanging out with us under the academy.”

“Finn,
that’s very, uh, kind of you. But I have my own school to go to starting next
week. And the last thing I need is to hang around with a bunch of juvenile boys
at that academy with that creepy headmaster. Why would you think I’d want to
hang out at a place like that?”

“It’s
fun. Trust me. You’d love it. And I see how you get along with your parents.
They chain you up here like a dog and expect you to be obedient without
question. They probably control who you can be friends with and where you go
and when. Am I right?”

Daphne
refused to respond. She didn’t want to admit his accuracy. His ego seemed
pretty inflated as it was. Besides, she was in a hurry and he was wasting her
time.

“Come
with me,” he continued, “and you won’t have to put up with their stupid rules.”

Daphne
entertained the thought for a moment. How she would love to just run away and
never see them again. But she knew it was a stupid, impulsive idea. It’s not
like her parents would just forget about her and leave her alone. Plus, there
was nothing about that place that appealed to her. “No, thank you. Now if you
don’t mind, I need to be leaving now. Get out.”

“Sure
thing, Daffy,” Finn chuckled as he opened the door and started out.

“That’s
Daphne!” she called out after him.

“See
you later, Daffy!”

“No,
it’s . . .” Daphne started, but the boy was gone. She shook her head in
annoyance. “Whatever.”

***

Even
from the sidewalk Daphne could feel the thumping from the bass blaring over the
speakers inside the club. College students filled the floor, jumping and
grinding, most of them not drunk enough to cause problems yet except for a pair
of girls on the far end of the bar who kept laughing hysterically while leaning
on each other for support. Jagger’s was a Mecca for students in this small
college town, the perfect place to get wasted and hook up with a total stranger
or that weird mohawked guy from Statistics 101.

Daphne
had arrived at the perfect time. Parking was a commodity in downtown Athens and
someone had just happened to pull out of a parking space right in front of the
club as Daphne approached. She saw it as a good omen. Could this night get any
better? Of course it could. She’d be seeing her boyfriend tonight.

At
the entrance, Daphne pulled out her fake ID, knowing full well she’d be carded.
She was tiny and barely passed for a college student. The bouncer glanced at
the card and back at Daphne. She hid her nerves well and smiled sweetly when
the bouncer handed back her card and stamped her hand giving her full alcohol
privileges.

She
paused inside, orienting herself with the club. She wanted a drink, but she
wanted to find Rocks first. Her eyes were still adjusting to the dim,
multi-colored lighting when somebody pounced on her.

“Daphne-san!”
A girl with black-striped blond hair and thickly lined blue eyes towered over
Daphne, embracing her in an awkward hug. Daphne always thought it was strange
that her friend, Carrie, had an infatuation with all things Asian, while she
looked like she came straight from the middle of Sweden. Daphne had some Korean
in her from her mother’s side, and with her ink-black dyed hair she almost
looked Asian herself. However, Carrie’s oriental obsession had nothing to do
with Daphne’s heritage. Although, sometimes Daphne wondered if that was the
real reason Carrie was her friend.

“I’m
so stoked you’re here, Carrie!” Daphne shouted over the din. “I missed you!”

“Me
too, chickie! Why haven’t you called? Or texted? Or  something?”

“Damn!”
Just then Daphne realized that she’d left the iPhone on the charger at the
house. “My parents took my phone. I found it tonight and put it on the charger,
but I left in such a hurry. It’s still on the kitchen counter.”

“Well,
couldn’t you at least email?”

Daphne
recalled her little hacking stunt in the library at Neverland Academy, just
before she’d met Finn. And then he’d just shown up at her house tonight out of
the blue. There was something about him that she just couldn’t figure out. But
it was intriguing. And she was curious. Carrie lifted an eyebrow as she waited
for Daphne to respond.

“No,
sorry. The ‘rents are screening my emails. I’ve got to keep it on the down low
for awhile, you know?”

“Man,
they really are keeping you under lock and key, huh? I guess I needn’t ask how
you managed to pay us a visit tonight?”

Daphne
jangled her mother’s key chain in front of Carrie’s face. “Nope. I think you
know good and well how this works. Where’s Rocks?”