Free Never, Never by Brianna Shrum Page A

beside him. She climbed up on it.
    â€œYou’re perceptive.”
    â€œNot really,” she said, shrugging. “Every animal in the woods heard you, I think.”
    They sat in silence for a little while, James getting over his embarrassment, the girl just sitting. James wished he had a way of knowing what she was thinking.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” she asked. Her skin was brown and pretty, and her voice was sweet, like he imagined a honeysuckle would sound, if a honeysuckle could speak.
    â€œJames. James Hook.”
    â€œJames Hook.” She giggled. “That’s a funny name.”
    â€œIt isn’t!” he retorted, indignant. “What’s yours?”
    â€œTiger Lily.” Tiger Lily smiled with her teeth, quite proud, apparently, of the title.
    James smirked. James Hook was certainly no sillier a name than Tiger Lily .
    She held out her tiny hand and James shook it and smiled brightly, unreasonably thrilled at a familiar gesture.
    â€œWhy were you crying?”
    â€œYou’re full of questions, aren’t you?”
    â€œYes, I am.”
    He regarded her for a second, concluding she was trustworthy. Most children her age were. “It’s just—it’s hard to explain. Well, I, it seems I can’t go home.”
    Tiger Lily nodded gravely, as though she really understood what he was saying.
    He wondered, briefly, if somehow, she did.
    He frowned. “How did I end up crossing paths with you anyway? I thought you lived across the river.”
    â€œI do.”
    â€œWell, I wonder how that happened.” He stared away from her, eyes resting on the branches and the leaves and the grasses that swayed this way and that. The leaves were brighter now, back to usual, and James thought it very unfair that the foliage wasn’t darker, for his sake. It seemed it should have been, all things considered. But he wasn’t Peter. And the trees didn’t care about him.
    She shrugged and stared at the ground, kicking her little feet. He figured he must have crossed the river earlier, when he had no reasonable thoughts running through his head.
    The silence was nicer, it turned out, in the company of the little girl. She sat, picking at the log and examining the wildlife peacefully, felt no need to chatter on, and he was grateful for it. He felt a flash of embarrassment when tears threatened to spring from his eyes again, but Tiger Lily just looked up at him and smiled too wise a smile for a girl of her age, and the flush in his cheeks went away. So, he cried quietly for what must have been several minutes at least, and Tiger Lily scooted closer to him, unabashed and trusting, in the way of small children, and laid her head on his shoulder.
    When evening began to fall, the little Indian girl slid off the log, and James finally decided to get up. Shepointed over his shoulder. “The river is that way.” Then, she just turned and disappeared into the trees. James walked back, as best as he could remember, to the last place he recalled seeing the boys. After quite a bit of roaming, he managed to find the place, and he sat at the periphery. Peter noticed him and smiled, like there had been no argument, no fight, no unspeakable betrayal. Had he truly forgotten the incident? That didn’t seem possible, as it had only occurred hours ago. But, Peter, he was learning, was rather adept at forgetting things, inconvenient things, impossible things. Perhaps he truly had forgotten.
    James did not return the smile. He simply laid his head on the ground outside the clearing and closed his eyes. He’d no inkling of how to get to the Spanish Main , and he feared that once they’d realized he was part of Pan’s crew, they’d turn on him even if he did know the way. Tiger Lily certainly hadn’t invited him back to her camp. And he would rather stay with a threat he recognized than risk a Grap, whatever that was, swallowing him whole in the middle of