A/N: Update 2

Living walking distance from the beach was like a dream. It was so easy to get away from everything and just go to the beach and relax. I wandered out onto the sand and sat down. It was growing dark, so people were leaving. I saw a little boy shlump behind his parents as they dragged him away from the fun of the beach. I smiled sympathetically. Never grow up, kid. It's not worth it. I thought to myself.

How I ended up in California I don't even remember. I just remember flying and flying until I ran out of pixie dust. I wandered the streets hungry, tired, and delusional. Everything was so different from the last time I visited the Mainland. I had been so scared. I had asked strangers if they had seen a girl named Wendy. Most adults wouldn't even listen, as if they had no time for a lost twelve year old boy. Some adults asked me where my parents were. When they asked that, I would shake my head and wander away, disgusted that they weren't helping me. I ran into a grocery store and looked around. I was so hungry. I couldn't just imagine that I was full here, like what I used to do back in Neverland. Not knowing that what I was doing was wrong, I took an apple and began walking out of the store. The manager ran after me and grabbed my wrist. He pulled me back into the store and said he was calling the cops. I didn't know what that meant, but the man was angry, so I assumed that I was in trouble.

The cops came and had a serious chat with me. They asked me all sorts of questions like where I lived. "Nowhere," I had replied. They asked me where my parents were. "I don't have any," I said casually.

The two men whispered to each other. "Why don't you let us buy you a meal young man?" One of the cops smiled. I shrugged and followed them.

Since then, I have been in the foster system. I've been stuck in California with no real way out, at least until I turn eighteen, an adult. Ugh! The thought still sickens me.

Being stuck in California hasn't been too bad. As the boy who never grew up, I've seen the world change, and I have to say this generation is the strangest one yet. Everyone is so different, yet the same. It's hard to explain. People now are all about individuality and being original, yet everyone walks, talks, and acts the same. I haven't had a hard time fitting in, even though I still don't quite understand the people I call peers. I'm on the baseball team at Edison High, and we are pretty good. I'm friends with a lot of people at school, and the girls love the fact that I'm kind of "old school" and "classy," as they put it. I don't really know what that means.

I began to doze off while sitting on the beach. Sometimes the only way I can get even a smidgen of sleep is when I come here and listen to the crashing waves. Out here, the ocean crashing on the shore drowns out my thoughts of Wendy and everything that I lost. I woke up to the morning tide coming in as it began to soak the bottom of my jeans. I jolted up. Shit! If Gail saw I was gone, she would be so worried! I booked it home.

"Peter! There you are. I was so worried!" Gail ran out the front door to me and gave me a hug. "Where did you go? When did you leave? Why did you leave? I'm so glad you came back!"

I had to think fast. "I just went for a morning walk," I smiled through my lie hoping she would buy it. "I had a lot on my mind."

"Well then, why are your pants wet?" She asked glancing at my feet.

"Umm…" I stammered. "I went down to the beach. I wanted to walk in the water." She'd never buy that.

"Oh, well okay," Gail smiled. "Next time just leave a note dear, you know how I worry about you."

"Yes, I will Gail, sorry." I hugged her. I can't believe I just lied to her. I've never done that to her before. "I'm going to go shower before school," I said walking into the house.

"Don't forget, we're picking up Sam today after school. Come right home and we'll meet him and the social worker at the office," Gail reminded me.

I'd almost forgotten about Sam. I sincerely hoped that this boy would actually be my friend, Slightly. I finished getting ready for the day and walked out the door to Jeff's old, beat up '67 Impala. I loved that car. I helped Jeff fix it up last year when I first moved in with them. When he offered it to me to drive when I turned sixteen, I was shocked. This couple had welcomed me with open arms and treated me like their actual son. I never thought that I would enjoy having parents so much.

As I was getting into the car, I noticed the realtor for the neighbor's house was putting a SOLD! sign up on the Baker Realty post in the front lawn. It's about time someone moved in.

After school I went straight home to meet Gail so we could go pick up this new kid, Sam. Gail never liked to go to these things alone. She always felt that if she had one of her other foster kids with her, they could help break the tension.

"Oh, good, you're here," Gail smiled as I got out of the car. I glanced over at the neighbors, who were now moving in.

"Hi, Gail," I said shutting the car door. "Ready to go? Do you want me to drive?"

"No, no. I'll drive. You've had a long day at school. Let's go," she replied as she opened the door to her Honda. I walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and stepped in. I was still glancing over at the new neighbors. I wonder if they have any kids my age.

We pulled into the parking lot of the social workers' office building. It started to sink in that this kid might actually be Slightly.

"Peter, are you coming in?" Gail asked worriedly.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," I said realizing I was still sitting in the car. I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car. We walked into the office, and were greeted by Ms. Stacy, the social worker, and a tall blond haired boy probably no older than twelve. He didn't look anywhere but the floor, so I couldn't see his face, but he held a, what looked to be, toy fox in his hands. Gail and Ms. Stacy chatted away looking over paperwork. I walked over to the boy.

"Hi. Are you Sam?" I asked him, smiling. He nodded, but didn't look up. "Where are you from?" he shrugged. I just had this feeling it was Slightly, but I needed to see his face. "Well, my name's Peter. I live with Gail too. You'll like her, she's really nice." Maybe it was best to just let him get used to being in the foster system before questioning him. If it really was Slightly, maybe he wasn't ready to talk about it yet. And if it was just some kid, I didn't want to scare him.

"Okay, you are all set!" Ms. Stacy exclaimed. "Are you ready to go, Sam?"

He shrugged still not looking up. I chuckled. "Don't worry, it's not that bad," I said as I grabbed his single duffle bag. We headed out of the office, Ms. Stacy waving as we left, and went to the car.

"Go ahead and get in, Sam," Gail said nicely. He opened the door to the back of the car and climbed in. I could hear him sniffling. I opened the passenger door and got in. I turned around to see if I could see his face, but he had his face buried in his arm against the window. This behavior was typical of new foster kids. I'd seen it with every single one of my foster siblings.

We got home and I got Sam's duffle bag out of the trunk. As I closed the trunk, I glanced over at the neighbor's house. They were almost done moving everything in. Still no sign of kids though. I shrugged and went inside.

"Gail, do you know anything about that new family?" I asked finding her in the living room. She had shown Sam to his room and now he was up there, I'm sure trying to adjust.

"You know, I haven't really," she answered. "It was a sudden move. All I know is they have a couple of kids."

So they did have kids. Whenever new people move into town, I always have this sense of hope that maybe, just maybe it's Wendy. "Hmm… Anyway, I was thinking I could bake something and go introduce myself," I exclaimed.

"That's sounds like a wonderful idea, Peter," Gail smiled. "You should see if Sam is up for going. I think there's a boy his age."

I nodded and headed upstairs to go find Sam. I walked up to the room that Sam now shared with one of the other kids and knocked.

"What?" said a grumpy voice from behind the door.

"Hi, Sam. It's Peter. I was wondering if you wanted to help me bake some cookies to take over to the new neighbors. Gail said they have a kid your age," I said through the door. There was no answer. I sighed and began to turn away when the door opened. There, standing in front of me was the tall, blond, and freckled Slightly.

"Slightly?" I whispered.

He went rigid. Then, he looked up. "Peter!" he exclaimed, hugging me. "I can't believe it's really you!"