Since this story has been focused on Fiona, I thought it would be fun to write a chapter about Hugh. Hope you enjoy!
Age divided the floors in Miss Peregrine's house. The younger children – Claire, Bronwyn, the twins, Fiona, Hugh, and Millard – all had rooms on the second floor, while the older children – Emma, Olive, Enoch, Abe, Victor, and Horace – lived on the third floor, although Enoch spent much of his time in the attic, bringing his dolls and puppets to life and then killing them, like some sort of sulky teenage demigod. Enoch was always moody – Miss Peregrine said teenagers were like that – but Victor and Abe were usually kind. Late one afternoon, while Fiona was busy growing vegetables for supper in her garden, Hugh climbed the stairs to the third floor in search of them.
Victor and Abe were both in Abe's room, sprawled on the floor, talking and playing poker. Hugh peered in and knocked on the half-open door.
"Want to play poker with us, Hugh?" Abe offered, waving him in. "We could deal you in on the next hand."
Hugh shook his head sat down the floor beside them. "I sort of need some advice. I need to know how..." he hesitated, then took and deep breath and blurted out, before he could lose his nerve, "How do you tell a girl you fancy her?"
Victor laughed, but not in a mean way. "Aren't you a little young to already be having a sweetheart, Hugh?" he teased.
"Give her some nice flowers," Abe said, rearranging the cards in his hand. "Flowers are always a good bet with girls."
Hugh couldn't help groaning. Flowers. He had been afraid of that answer. At his groan, Abe and Victor glanced at each other, and Hugh could see the pieces falling into place for them. Why would the suggestion of giving a girl flowers make him unhappy, unless...
"O-ho!" Abe said, a sly grin spreading on his face. "So Fiona is the girl you fancy?"
Hugh blushed. He had hoped that they won't figure it out. To hide his embarrassment, he put on a big show of acting annoyed. "I can't give flowers to Fiona!" he burst out, waving one arm. "I would feel too stupid, like... like if I was giving Olive a box of matches!"
Victor chuckled. "You're right about that," he said, setting down his cards. "Flowers wouldn't do for Fiona. Let's see, what else do girls like? Chocolates?"
Hugh shook his head. He'd thought about giving her chocolate or candy, but Fiona didn't have much of a sweet tooth – because of her Peculiarity, he supposed. Vegetables must taste better when you grew them yourself, judging by the way she ate them.
"I know!" Abe said suddenly, snapping his fingers. He stood up and went to his bookcase. "I know just what you need. Poetry."
"Poetry?" Victor repeated, looking doubtful.
Abe was perusing the titles on his bookshelf. He didn't read as much as Horace, but the books that he did read, he liked. His favorite was a collection of poetry by Ralph Waldo Emerson that he often carried around the house with him. Hugh recognized the cover as Abe pulled it off the shelf, then put it back.
"No, Emerson would be over your heads, I think... let's see..." He paused and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe Dickinson would be better..."
Hugh got up and joined him at the bookshelf. "Who?"
"Emily Dickinson," Abe explained. "She was an American poet, sort of similar to Emerson, but not so... heavy. I haven't got any of her stuff here, but there's a collection by her down in the library. She wrote a lot about nature – flowers and bees," he said pointedly, nudging Hugh's shoulder and grinning. "She'd be perfect for you and Fiona."
Victor scoffed, got up, and joined them at the bookcase. "You want my advice, Hugh?" he asked, coming to stand on the other side of him. "If you want Fiona to know you fancy her, you've got to kiss her."
"Kiss her?" Hugh repeated. His throat suddenly felt dry. The idea of kissing Fiona was almost as scary as facing down a Hollow. Maybe his bees would fly out his mouth and ruin the moment. Maybe he would miss her cheek completely and kiss her braid instead. Or maybe he would do it right, but she wouldn't want him to kiss her at all. Either way, he would mess it up somehow, he was sure, and Fiona would end up hating him. He stammered, "I can't... I mean, I don't think..."
Victor put one arm around his shoulders, encouragingly. "Don't think about it, Hugh," he said. "Just do it. When the time is right, you'll know."
But Hugh wasn't so sure. That night, he got up out of bed, opened his mouth wide, and let all his bees out. They swarmed around him, forming a little beard of bees on his chin, and around the potted flowers that Fiona had given him for his windowsill. "What do you lot think I should do?" he asked them. "Do you think I should kiss Fiona?"
His bees were just ordinary honeybees, so they didn't answer him, of course, but Hugh didn't mind that. Just the sound of their buzzing was a comfort; it was the most familiar sound in the world to him, like his own breath. His little one-winged bee perched on his finger, and Hugh smiled. He looked at the wall and thought about Fiona sleeping on the other side of it. Sometimes, she had bad dreams at night – Hugh would hear her crying and hear Miss Peregrine going in to her – but tonight, she seemed to be sleeping soundly.
There was a soft knock on his door. "Hugh, what are you doing up?" Miss Peregrine asked, sticking her head in. "It's late."
"I was just going back to sleep, Miss P," Hugh said, climbing into bed again. "I had to get up to let my bees out for a minute."
She nodded and started to go, but he called, "Miss P?" and she came back. He hesitated, then whispered, "Why does Fiona get so sad at night?"
Miss Peregrine sighed and came in to sit on the edge of his bed. "She misses her father."
Hugh sighed, too. He and his housemates had each come to Miss Peregrine from sad circumstances. The only one of them who didn't have unhappy memories was Claire, and that was only because she'd been with Miss Peregrine since she was a baby. Miss Peregrine had taken Hugh in from another ymbryne, Miss Sparrow, after her home was raided by a Hollow. Miss Sparrow had managed to get most of them to safety, but two children, younger than Hugh, had been eaten by the Hollow. Hugh hadn't seen it happen, but he'd heard them screaming as he ran away. The memory of it made him shudder and draw closer to Miss Peregrine on the bed. She put one hand on his head, and he felt safe again. He yawned hugely, and all his bees came flying back inside him.
"I think you're a great help to Fiona, Hugh," she said quietly, "just by being a good friend to her."
Hugh smiled and soon drifted off to sleep, even though he wasn't any closer to deciding whether he should kiss Fiona.
