Free Pan's Revenge by Anna Katmore Page A

at the clock tower.
    I follow the
river for a mile and a half. Reaching the outskirts, I aim for the
street with Angel’s house. According to the bright sun high in the
sky, it must be around three in the afternoon. The perfect time to arrive in London.
    Best would be
to return to the roof and then sneak down to her balcony to meet
her. I barely landed, when Angel’s voice drifts up to me. She’s
calling for Paulina and Brittney Renae. If I remember it right,
they’re her little sisters. Stepping closer to the edge of the roof
at the other side, I spot her in front of the house, two strawberry
red-haired girls squeal as they come out the door and run toward
her.
    Angel is wearing a black coat that’s shaped
like a dress and barely covers her knees, her feet stuffed in
painful-looking high heeled shoes. Amazing, how easily she can walk
in these. The girls flank her, taking her hands, and together they
head down the street.
    Never letting
them out of sight, I follow, sneaking along the roofs. Less than a
mile away from their home is a park. Since the l ine of houses stops quite a bit before the entrance, I
glide down from the last roof, using a massive chestnut tree for
cover.
    As soon as the three girls enter the park,
the twins let go of their older sister’s hands and squirm away,
their pink dresses fluttering in the steady breeze. Angel strolls
on.
    Hands in the pockets of my new leather
jacket, I amble a safe distance behind her. After another couple
hundred feet, she lowers onto a bench at the side of the pebbled
walkway and fishes a book out of her tote bag. She’s alone,
reading—there might not be a better time to meet her. I pick up
pace.
    “Peter Pan!”
    Baffled, I
whirl around to the voice of a young girl. “Yes?”
    “Stop or I’ll skewer you from the back!” one
of Angel’s sisters shouts after the other, wielding a twig like a
sword.
    “You can try, Captain Hook, but you have to
catch me first!” the other yells back over her shoulder. Laughing,
both children scurry in their neat strappy shoes across the lawn,
not cutting so much as a glance at me.
    What the heck?
    With my brows
pulled down to a frown, I tear my gaze
away from them—and instead look into the shiny brown eyes of a
smiling Angel. She lowered her book and is staring at me from
across the path, her expression intrigued.
    The moment
drags on, because I’m not sure what to do or say now. There’s only
this funny warmth spreading in my chest when I look at her.
Eventually, she breaks the awkward silence and asks, “Your name is
Peter, isn’t it?”
    By
the rainbows of Neverland , she recognized
me! I nod, a smile tugging on the corners of my mouth.
    “ I thought
so, because you turned and said yes when Paulina shouted that
name. They are my sisters.”
    My smile
slips. “Oh.” But then, it doesn’t matter.
She’ll know who I am in a minute. “So you told them all about
Neverland?”
    Angel laughs like this is a joke. I don’t get
it. “It’s actually their favorite story. I think in the past three
years I’ve read the book a thousand times to them.”
    “ The book?” I
frown as I sit down beside her. More, how could she tell the story
over three years? It’s only been two months since she left
Neverland. She doesn’t look older to me, so there can’t have passed
more time here than in my world.
    “Peter Pan?” she answers with a slight edge
to her voice. Then her face relaxes again. “You probably only know
the movie, right?”
    Whatever is a movie?
    I shrug, leaning forward to prop my elbows on
my knees, and mumble, “Yeah.”
    “That’s alright. Disney did a great take on
the classic.”
    My head starts to hurt. What in the world are
we talking about? I need to put an end to this and get down to the
point before she confuses the hell out of me. Slowly, I tilt my
head toward her. “Do you ever miss Neverland?”
    Now she makes big eyes at me. “Miss it? Well,
that’s a big word, isn’t it?” She chuckles,