7. Bonnie
Age 13
Iflip the book open, stopping where the purple petals, now discoloured and crinkled, lie pressed between the pages.
After Puck tucked the purple flower behind my ear all those months ago, we stayed out in the woods until the sky darkened and the breeze grew cold.
My blue dress had grass stains and my skin felt damp from the air, but if he hadn’t suggested we leave, I would’ve stayed out there forever.
But once we came inside, I ran to my room, took my oldest copy of Peter Pan out of my bag that we’d been reading and placed the clematis inside, closing the book gently to help preserve the flower.
I never wanted to part with it.
There aren’t very many special moments in my life. In fact, I can name them all on one hand.
The first one was when King found me in the woods when I was five years old. Apparently, everyone, and by everyone, I mean King, Dax, and Maria, were worried sick because they couldn’t find me. Considering I was never allowed to go anywhere, I was never far away. But they looked and looked, and I wasn’t anywhere they searched.
King, who was only six at the time, was convinced I’d run away, so he explored the woods to find me. Which he did. But my knees and palms were covered in mud, my hair was a tangled mess, and I had grass stains on my white socks.
I had never ventured far into the wooded area of the grounds before, but I knew once I’d found it, I never wanted to leave.
And instead of taking me back to my room, where I’d surely get in trouble, King played with me, until he, too, was covered in mud and grass stains.
That was one of the only strong memories of a childhood I could remember that seemed normal.
Once Daddy found out, though, he told us both off for getting so dirty. Told off is a bit of an understatement. Daddy shouted at me until I ran to my room, crying. But as I was running, I heard a loud whack, like the sound of a hand hitting a cheek. And he never admitted it, but I think Daddy hit King that night. And I hate how King got the blame for something I made him do.
But even though it ended badly, it will never quite take away the immense joy I felt spending all day with my brother outside.
The second memory was when Dax moved in. I can’t even remember how old I was, because it’s always just felt like forever. But when Dax’s daddy died when he was really little, and his mum was struggling to raise him on her own, he came to live with us.
He still saw his mum lots whilst she was still alive, but he was ours. And he’s always been like a big brother to me. He plaits my hair because he knows I’m rubbish at doing it myself, and he makes me laugh when King is being grumpy.
The third moment was standing against the hallway window, watching the new boy walk up the driveway and smiling up at me as he entered our house.
And the fourth and final special moment, Puck choosing me over anybody else. Listening to me.
Playing with me.
Giving me a flower.
I’ve finally found a Peter Pan.
I can’t even hide my crush on him anymore. Every waking hour is filled with thoughts of him.
The past year, each day, my feelings get stronger, and even though I know he isn’t in love with me, like I am with him, I can definitely feel a shift between us.
I don’t know what love is. I’ve never seen it in real life, and I don’t have any proof that it truly exists. But the way it’s described in my books and the way Wendy gazes at Peter Pan, like he’s the most incredible person to ever walk the planet, like there’re love hearts in her eyes, like nobody in the whole world would ever compare to him...
That’s how I feel. So I can only imagine it’s what love must feel like.
But who am I to talk? He’s fifteen, and I’m only thirteen. What would he want with a kid like me?
I know King and Dax see girls at school. They talk about them a lot behind closed doors, but they forget I listen to everything. They’re only fourteen, but they have always had the freedom to go out.
Outside of these walls that I am still trapped in.
They talk about girls” bodies, that from the way they describe, is the way mine seems to be changing. They talk about wanting to kiss them, holding their hands or hugging them.
If King and Dax want these things, Puck will too.
And that terrifies me.
What if I can’t be that for Puck? He won’t want me like that.
I shut the book gently, putting it back onto my shelf and making my way over to the window.
There’re no bars or a padlock, but there might as well be.
A teenager, trapped in her room, in her mind, and the world doesn’t even know she exists.
A tear slips down my cheek, and I don’t bother to wipe it away.
With each new day, week, month, year, I’m growing up, but in the world I’m in, I’m going nowhere. I’m growing for nothing.
It’s easy for King and Dax to forget how hard it is for me, because once they’re beyond the gates, I’m forgotten. Not forever, but for those moments of freedom.
I grew up loving Peter Pan, wishing I could live in Neverland, never actually realising that this whole time, I”ve been living in a completely different fairy tale.
Lost princess trapped in a tower sound familiar to you?
A car stops outside the fountain, and King, Dax, and Puck exit the car.
Puck isn’t confined to these walls either, even though ninety percent of the time he chooses to stay with me.
But today, he told me there was something he had to do, and he couldn’t wait to show me when he got back. I had no idea what it could be, but seeing him walk up the steps has my heart beating faster.
Like he knew I’d be waiting for him, he looks up to my window and winks. My cheeks flush in response, my stomach twisting into knots like it always does.
He’s not holding anything, and he doesn’t look any different, so I’m curious as to what he wanted to show me.
Unless it was all an excuse just so he felt like he could go out.
I sink onto my bed, guilt gnawing away at me. Without meaning to, I’ve trapped him just as much as I am.
With a little knock, Puck’s head appears round the doorway, but his smile drops to a frown when he sees me sulking on my bed.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He shuffles into the room, kneeling in front of me.
“You’re allowed to leave whenever you want, you know.”
“I know that,” he replies back, confusion lacing his tone. “What’s this all about?”
I take in a big sigh, embarrassed to admit it out loud.
“I just feel bad that you never really go out with King and Dax unless it’s for school. You always feel like you need to stay here with me. You don’t have to make excuses or feel bad for me.”
He laughs. A deep, throaty chuckle, and my brow furrows.
“You’re a doughnut, did you know that?”
I frown at him, and he just shakes his head.
“Firstly, I don’t feel like I need to stay here with you. I want to. Secondly, I’d never make excuses to leave you. And thirdly, are you going to stop being a grumpy git so I can show you what I’ve got?”
I lift my eyes to his, watching the humour dance in his irises, and a small smile peeks out. I nod my head eagerly and intrigued.
Leaning back onto his heels in front of me, Puck lifts the sleeve of his jumper to reveal a part of his left arm covered in clingfilm. Peeling it off slowly, he reveals a small section of ink etched into his skin that’s slightly red.
I gasp and look between his arm and his face, confused and surprised.
“But you’re only fifteen?” I say, but it sounds more like a question. You can’t get tattoos legally until you’re eighteen.
“I know,” he laughs, lifting his arm up closer for me to get a better look. “But we passed a tattoo place whilst we were in town. It looked like a shit hole, but I took my chance, and the guy didn’t even I.D. me. You should’ve seen the look on King’s face when he tried, though. It was hilarious watching him get rejected.”
But I couldn’t even laugh at what would’ve probably been the greatest moment of my life, King finally being told no, because I’d taken a better look at the new tattoo on Puck’s arm.
There are flowers scattered about near his wrist, dainty, beautiful, purple flowers and just above them, two stars, one slightly bigger than the other. But not like the conventional shape of a star. It was a drawing of a shining star, like when you squint up at the sky on a starry night and it looks like they’re sparkling.
“Purple flowers and the second star on the right,” he says quietly, whilst I admire his arm. “To remind me of my favourite girl.”