The secretary is a fat old woman with a sweet smile and eyes that bug out slightly, like she's permanently surprised. Or maybe it's my whole… How would the Americans say? Scene kid look?

Americans are strange.

"Hello, dear. How may I help you?" the woman says. Her name tag reads Mrs. Bishop. She wears a purple dress and a white cardigan and a small purple pansy in her hair. I decide I like Mrs. Bishop.

"Hello, ma'am." I smile politely. "My name is Aspen Darling, I'm here as the new transfer student?"

"Oh yes, of course! The Darling girl. I expect you have your papers?" she asks, peering over her cat's eye glasses. Her sweet demeanor doesn't change when I tell her my name, so I'm thinking that my reputation as a horrible demon child hasn't followed me.

Or maybe she just has nice manners.

I hand her my papers and she tells me to take a seat in the corner while she processes them and gets my schedule ready. I sit down on a bright red chair with a paisley pattern and cross my legs. A girl is sitting across from me, reading a book intently. I tilt my head to the side to read the title. Peter Pan.

I grin. It was one of my favorite fairy tales as a kid, and I still remember having very vivid dreams where Peter would come visit me, as if I was Wendy.

"Great book, that is." I say to the girl. She looks up quickly with a scared expression. I flash her a smile. "It was always one of my favorites."

She smiles shyly. "It's one of mine too." She says quietly.

"I'm Aspen Darling." I say, by way of introduction. I need all the friends I can get here. "All right?"

"All right. I'm Lily Waters."

I smile at Lily. She's got long curly blonde hair and wears glasses. She's got a heart shaped face and bright spring green eyes. Like celery, almost. "You like it here?" I ask conversationally.

"The classes are fine, I suppose. But most everyone's a bit rude."

I laugh a little. "You just described about every school in London, girl."

"Aspen?" Mrs. Bishop calls. "I've got your schedule here. Lily? Why don't you show Miss Darling to her classes."

"Sure, Mrs. B." Lily says, tucking her book into her purse. "Ready?"

I take my schedule from Mrs. Bishop. "As I'll ever be, I suppose."

The hallways at Tarleton are big and spacious. Portraits of old headmasters hang down the wall of the main hall, everywhere else are banners for the school's rugby and football teams. The banners feigning school spirit do little to hide the cold gray brick and utter desolation I feel oozing from the walls.

"There's the dining area." Lily says, pointing to a room with mahogany double doors and a sign reading "Dining". "And that there's the library." The library looks comfortable, fluffy overstuffed armchairs sit in groups in corners, looking to be the perfect place to take solace on a tiring afternoon.

"What class do you have next?"

I look down at my schedule. "Erhm… Let's see here. Cresswell, literature."

"Oh good!" Lily exclaims. "That's mine too! You'll love Mrs. Cresswell. She's an amazing teacher. And there are a fair few attractive boys in that class." She winks.

"Why, Miss Waters!" I say, mocking shock. "Is your duty not to your schoolwork first? What would the headmaster say?"

This makes her snort with laughter as she leads me into class.

"Mrs. Cresswell?" she calls. The teacher looks up from her reading to us and blinks. Her eyes are enormous behind her glasses, and she has short curly black hair and wears a colorful argyle sweater.

"Yes, Miss Waters? Who have we here?" she asks, peering at me with her owl eyes.

"I'm Aspen Darling." I say quickly. "I'm a transfer student."

"Ohh, how lovely!" she beams. "Yes, yes, dear. Just take a seat over there next to Mr. Chambers. Mr. Chambers, wave so Miss Darling can see you."

I look to the back corner where a sweet looking boy with black shaggy hair and brown eyes is waving at me.

"Here, Miss Darling." Mrs. Cresswell says, handing me a copy of a book. "This is what we're studying currently. A bit juvenile, I know, but it is one of the greatest works in British literature, to my opinion." I look at the small well worn paperback she hands me.

Peter Pan.

A few minutes later, I'm sitting in my seat next to Mr. Chambers, listening to Mrs. Cresswell emphatically read about the Darling children's first flight.

A piece of paper slides onto my desk.

Wendy Darling… Aspen Darling. Any relation?

I smile at the boyish scrawl.

Don't I wish it. I write back. You know my name, but I only know your last. Who are you, dear Mr. Chambers?

Chambers reaches over and writes quickly on the paper. Nelson Chambers… But most call me Nibs.

Nibs. Quite unusual. I like it. I give him a smile and slide the note back. Today wasn't turning out so bad after all.

As the last bell rang though, I found myself desperate to get home. The thought of my bed was so comforting. I walked down the steps at the front of the school and leaned against a lamppost, pulling my phone out of my bag. I slid it open to see a text from Jesse, my incredible boyfriend.

Meet me at Bleeker's, love?

I smiled and typed back a reply.

Course. See you in a tic.

Jess and I have been together for about eight months. He's amazing. 17 years old, black shaggy hair, strong jaw, sky blue eyes to die for. He wears v-neck t-shirts and holey jeans, always has drumsticks in his back pocket. He's the drummer and keyboardist for his band, Lusting December.

He's absolutely beautiful.

I pull my blazer tighter around me and wish I'd brought other clothes. Something a bit more appealing than a private school uniform. The walk's not too long from the school to the pub. By the time I get there, Jesse's sitting at a table outside with a few of his band mates smiling and waving me over.

"All right, beautiful?" he calls, grinning from ear to ear. "Bought you a coffee. 2 shots of espresso, no sugar or cream. Just like you like it."

"Oh, thanks, love!" I say, walking over and kissing him on the cheek.

"All right there, Aspen?" James asks. James is a blonde guitarist, pretty much what you would call a ladykiller. He's got a ginger girl draped across his lap, sipping on a tea.

"All right, James." I say politely before greeting the rest of the boys. There's Jacob, Michael, and Liam. The vocalist, bassist, and rhythm guitarist for the band. I start to pull up a chair, but Jesse just pulls me by the waist and plops me into his lap.

"What's this?" he says, tugging on my skirt. "A little prep school girl, eh?" he grinned wickedly. "All we need now is for you to be Catholic."

I swat at his shoulder. "Don't be vile." I say, but I'm laughing along with everyone else.

"Well, go on and tell us! How's the uppity Tarleton?" Michael asks, taking a drag off a cig.

I hold my hand out and he passes it on to me. I take a long drag and blow the smoke out slowly. "The same as every other uppity school." I shrug. "Full of gits and bitches."

"You should just drop out, love!" Liam crows. "Join the rest of us poor unemployed bastards!"

"Ah, Liam, I'd love to. However, not all of us have parents who are big shots off in Dublin and willing to send us checks every month to keep us going." I retort, not unkindly.

Liam laughs. "Your girl's got a bit of fire there, Jess." He says. "Hope you know what to do with it."

"I know just what to do with it, gents." Jesse says. He pats my thighs, urging me to get up. "And I'm going to prove that knowledge now. Gentlemen, I bid you adieu." He tips a pretend hat and grabs me around my waist. "We're off!"

This is met with catcalls and boisterous goodbyes. I blow the boys kisses and laugh as Jesse and I walk away.

Jess wraps one arm around my shoulders and pulls me to his chest. "You look lovely." He says and kisses the top of my head.

I laugh. "Yes, because every girl looks stunning in an uppity private school uniform."

"You look lovely in anything you wear." He says simply. "You're perfect."

I smile and blush. Eight months and I still get butterflies every time he tells me I'm pretty. We walk in silence, close together, our hips brushing with every other step. I love being right close to him. I feel the safest when I'm with Jesse. He was the first one to believe I had nothing to do with the incident at my old school. He says he never disbelieved me for a second. And that means a lot, especially when my own parents still can't look me in the eye.

We turn a corner and start walking towards his flat. Jesse lives with his 19 year old brother, Zayne, but he's gone a lot, so most of the time we have the place to ourselves. His parents died on a pleasure cruise, the ship went down and drowned both of them last year. We were only friends then, but I remember holding his hand at the funeral and telling him he was going to be alright. We've been inseparable ever since.

It's funny how the things that tear us apart on the inside are the things that bring us the closest together.

He holds the door open for me with a flourish. "After you, Missus." He says, putting on a Cockney accent.

I laugh and hold out my skirt and prance over the threshold. "Take my coat, boy!" I say haughtily, throwing my coat off. He catches it and hangs it up. I take off my button up and my socks, remaining in my white tanktop and skirt. I throw myself down on the couch, perching my feet up on the wall.

Jesse smiles and wraps his arms around me, kissing me softly. "I love you." He says, smiling.

I bury my face in his neck, breathing in his smell of coffee, cologne, and cigarettes. "I love you." I whisper in his ear.

"No matter what?" he asks, holding me tighter.

"Of course." I assure him, letting his embrace engulf me.

"Always?"

"Always."

"I hope so…" he murmurs, kissing the top of my head.

I pull back. "Why d'you ask?"

"I was just wondering."

I push a piece of hair out of his eyes. "No one just asks, Jesse. There's a reason."

He takes a deep breath. "I've been wanting to tell you for awhile… I just didn't know how. I've joined the Navy, Aspen."

I laugh. "Oh, come off it. Don't joke with me."

"I'm not joking."

I look into his light eyes and see the seriousness in them. There's not an ounce of teasing there. He's telling the truth. The Navy… it begins to click. If he joins the Navy, then he'll be gone. They'll put him through basic training and then send him off to somewhere to live. Away from London. Away from England. Away from me.

I recoil. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I knew you'd act like this-"

"Act like this? Jesse, you're going to LEAVE me! They'll ship you out somewhere! What if your ship goes down? You could die! What if you get sent all the way to Africa or somewhere? I'll never see you again! I can't believe you didn't ask if this was okay!" I try to fight the tears, but they spill over anyway.

He brushes them off. "In two years you'll be 18, and I'll send for you! We can live together, and then get married! You're all I want, Aspen."

"Obviously not, or you would have told me!" I push him off me and grab my socks and shoes.

He catches my hands, trying to keep me from buckling my shoes. "I didn't want to hurt you!"

"Well, you did a bloody good job, didn't you?" I snap. I grab my coat off the coat rack and jerk it on.

He grabs my hand. "Aspen, please baby, wait. Just wait. Talk this through."

"I have to go. My parents will be wondering where I am." I say, deadpan. I walk out the door, letting the fresh air and chilly autumn breeze wash over me.