Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
I’m like a starving animal. I had already been all those years ago. I’m not sure how I held myself together back then. I’m worried how I might be when I find her again. I’m not as soft and sweet as I once was. Then again, I was only that way with her. Could I bring that back to the surface? Five years is a long time to let that slip away.
“I know.” My mother’s tone turns soft. She only wants what’s best for me. I know she never meant harm, but part of me feels some resentment toward both of my parents. If they had been more welcoming, Melody may never have run, knowing we’d stand behind her family. I would always stand behind her. “I just—” Whatever she says trails off in my mind. All my attention is locked on a book in a display case in the window of my normal coffee shop. The title is in a bold, bright gold script.
Neverland. I blink my eyes to make sure I’m not hallucinating. But when I open them again, the title is still the same.
“I have to go, Mom.” I don’t wait for a response before I end the call. I stare at the cover. The author's name is like a punch to my chest.
Melody Ledger.
No, it can’t be her. Even though I have that thought, something deep within me tells me it is. I always knew she'd be an author one day. I said it to her every day when I read her journals and the stories in them. I walk into the bookstore and grab one of the books and open it to the first page. The dedication right there.
To all the lost girls. We may run from reality, but we’re never forgotten. Neverland will always be home. We all should get our perfect storybook ending.
7
MELODY
“There anything you want to tell me?” My sister drops a copy of my own book down next to me. I guess she figured out my secret before I could hers. I fight back the emotions that well up inside of me.
“Oh shit, don’t cry.” She starts to panic, not wanting to upset me. I’m sitting at my desk, and she drops sideways onto my lap, wrapping her arms around me. “I take it back. Cry. Please. Let it all out. You always make me do it.”
How did she even find this? Also, how the heck did she know it’s me? I had no clue it would break out in this way.
I take her advice and let it all out. My little sister that I’ve tried to be strong for holds me tightly as the tears that I’ve held back or hidden in the shower or closet flow freely.
“I love you,” she whispers into my ear. “You’re my person. I’m not shaming you, but we should be celebrating this.” I lift my head. She picks the book back up. I can see how proud she is of me just by the look in her eyes. It only makes me want to cry more.
“But it’s over. Easton always pushed for my dream, so I wrote our story. What it could have been but never will be.” My sister's eyes fill with tears too.
“Now you don’t get to cry too.” I try to stop her tears.
“No, we’re sisters. We cry together.” I only cry harder at her words.
“He's getting married or something. I was terrible and looked it up.” Elsa wipes the tears from my cheeks. It’s so hard to even wrap my mind around that. All of this is so bittersweet. One dream of mine finally coming true with the publishing of Neverland, and the other being crushed with the news of Easton’s engagement.
“Then he’s not the man in this story.” She picks up my book. “This man. The one you wrote about would look for his lost girl forever.”
“When did you grow up so much?” I brush away the rest of my tears.
“I think we’re different.” I’ve always known that. If not for everything that happened with our father, she would have been at some fancy Ivy League college doing something with math.
“You want Peter Pan.” She smirks. “I want Captain Hook.”
I snort a laugh. “You got this Hook in mind, because I’m a bit scared.”
“That’s the point.” She wiggles her brows.
“It doesn’t scare you? I mean not the real Hook or whatever. The bad boy. The heartbreaker?” She ponders my question for a moment.
“What makes you think I won’t break his heart right back?” Of course she has a badass response. She can be shy and quiet at times, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t plotting. If anything, it only makes her more mysterious.
“But then what?” I whisper. A million questions of my own are bouncing around in my head.
“I think with some, you have to show them what they’re missing without you.” Okay, that kind of makes sense. “With others”—she looks me dead in the eyes—“you need them to fight for you.”