Chapter One – I'm Wendy
There was a light breeze that lifted her hair as she made her way to her new school. Gwendolyn Darling found the quaint, quiet city of Lakeside Landing to be much like her old home. Gwendolyn had lived with her family on a quiet street in Bloomsbury, in London, England. Last year, however, her mother had died of pneumonia, and it took its toll on the family. Her younger brothers, Jonathan and Michael, now looked to her as the motherly figure, and her father, George, had become more distant and an absolute workaholic. About a week ago, the Darlings arrived in Lakeside Landing, and spent the entire time unpacking and getting accustomed to their new home. Their father had been transferred to work in the United States, so of course, they had to go with him. Either way, she and her brothers had no say; whatever Father said goes.
Maine wasn't that much different from her old home, though. It was actually very nice. The only thing she was worried about was making new friends and fitting in. Gwendolyn had never been much of a social butterfly; she tried talking at events and parties, of course, but she felt as though she was always babbling on about nonsense, and in the end, she felt like a fool. The only real friends she had were her brothers and their great Newfoundland dog, Nana.
Gingerly picking her way through the puddle-infested streets, Gwendolyn hurried to Kingsdale High for her first day of school. It was October, the air crisp and cool.
Fear and anxiety churned in her stomach. Her heart raced, and her mind spun with questions. Would the students here make fun of the way she spoke? Was she wearing the same clothes they were? Would she even find someone who had the same interests as her?
Sucking in a deep breath, she entered the towering building and melted into the crowd of high school students. Clutching her schedule, she looked at it with her beautiful cerulean eyes. First period: English II Honors. Squeezing her way in between several groups of teenagers, she searched frantically for the room's number. At last, her eyes fell upon the three digit number on one of the many doors. Her heart pounding fiercely, she reached out, grasped the knob, and turned it.
She entered the room, unnoticed. With a grateful sigh, she walked to the back of the room and found herself a seat in a corner. The bell had just rung: she was right on time.
The teacher entered the room at once, his hair neatly combed back, looking very professional and no-nonsense. He clapped his hands twice and demanded, "All right! All right! Sit down! Let's get started."
Gwendolyn twisted her loose midnight hair tightly, her stomach following its lead. The students were now sitting down as well, a few of them looking back to finally notice the newcomer.
The man took out a red booklet and flipped it open with a flick of his fingers. Flipping through the pages, he finally stopped. Looking at the class, he said, "Is there a Miss Gwendolyn Darling here?"
Swallowing, Gwendolyn forced herself up onto her feet. Every head turned to see her, making her cheeks burn scarlet.
"Welcome, Gwendolyn," the teacher said warmly. "Or…do people call you Gwen?"
"Um…actually, it's Wendy," she stammered.
"Wendy?" he raised an eyebrow, but soon shrugged it off. "Well then, Wendy, welcome to Kingsdale High. I am Mr. Fuller. I'm sure that you and the others will get along just fine. You may stay where you are if you'd like."
Mumbling her thanks, Wendy sat back down, bowing her head. Some students turned back to look at their teacher, others let their gazes linger on Wendy. Her face burned, and she felt as though she would break into sweat any minute now. She hated doing that.
Unfortunately, she would have to go to six more classes, and end up doing it all over again each time. By lunch, everybody knew that Wendy Darling was a transfer student from London. Clutching her brown paper bag, Wendy dodged the teeming body of students before heading to a secluded and forgotten table. Taking a seat, she sighed and pushed her angled bangs away from her eyes. She hated it; she hated the teachers for making her stand, she hated the students for letting themselves gawk at her all day long, she hated the fact that she was an outcast, a newbie, but most of all, she hated her father for making them move.
With a small frown, Wendy zipped up her comfy forest-green jacket before opening her brown bag and taking out a turkey sandwich and a water bottle.
"Hey."
Wendy froze. Looking to her left, she saw four teenagers, two of them boys and two of them girls. One of the girls looked frightening, with her ink black hair cut so, narrowed amethyst eyes, pale skin, dark clothes, and her ears were full of piercings. The other girl was the complete opposite: long platinum blonde hair, orangey-tan skin, and bright brown eyes that accompanied a dazzling white smile. One of the boys had skin as black as dark chocolate, his hair neatly cut. He wore a preppy type of outfit, and glasses that kept sliding down his big nose. The other boy seemed to have sunburn marks on his face. His chestnut hair was longer and cut to look spiky, with plain green eyes and a goofy grin. His muscles seemed to show right through his clothes.
"Hi," said the sun-burnt boy, grinning at her. "We just wanted to see if you'd like to have lunch with us."
Wendy blinked, taken by surprise. "…oh…ok. Thanks."
The blonde girl grinned as well and grabbed Wendy's arm as soon as she had repacked her lunch. "Omigod, you're, like, from England, right?" she asked, her words blending together in a jumble.
"Yes."
"Omigod! That's like, the coolest place EVER! I always wanted to go there. Oh, by the way, I'm Mandy," said the blonde girl, offering her hand.
Wendy shook it, uncertain. "Wendy."
They soon arrived at another table and sat down in their seats. "That's Violet," Mandy said, motioning towards the other girl. "And that's Asher," she added, pointing at the boy with glasses, who waved politely at Wendy. "And this is Fred!" Mandy placed a loving hand on the sun-burnt boy.
Wendy politely greeted each one before reopening her lunch and taking out her food.
"So, Wendy," Fred asked, leaning on the table. "What do you like to do? I mean, after-school activities. I'm into football."
Wendy nodded, understanding why he had a well-built body and sunburns on his face. "I…" she bit her lip. "…I like to read…and write stories."
"Reading and writing, huh?" nodded the football player. "So you're kinda like Vi here." He jerked his head at the gothic girl.
Wendy looked at Violet, wondering how on earth she could be like this girl.
Violet's voice was deep for a girl's, and haunting. "What stuff do you read?" she asked.
"Mostly classic literature," Wendy admitted. "I'll read poetry every-so often. I enjoy Poe, even if it is on the depressing side."
At this, Violet's gem-like eyes shone. "You read Edgar Allan Poe?"
"Oh, yes," Wendy nodded. "I love 'The Raven'. That's my favorite."
"Mine's, too," Violet smiled.
Wendy had to smile back. She wasn't so frightening after all.
"Ugh, I can't, like, stand reading. It's, like, so boring!" Mandy shuddered. "I, like, LOVE cheerleading, though. And texting."
Asher rolled his eyes at that. "Well, I'm good at creating new tech designs."
Before Wendy knew it, lunch was over, and she and Violet were headed for History.
"I didn't think a girl like you would like Poe," Violet admitted as they entered the room. "I'm really glad I met you, Wendy."
"And I'm very glad that I met you, Violet," Wendy smiled. "You're not at all what you seem, yourself. You like 'The Count of Monte Cristo', 'Jane Eyre',and'The Phantom of the Opera'!"
"Who doesn't love the Phantom?" Violet sighed.
The two girls giggled.
By the end of the day, they stuck together like peanut butter and jelly. As they left the school grounds, they met up with Fred, Mandy, and Asher.
"Say, Wendy," Asher said. "How'd you like to join us on Friday evening? We're going to hang out."
"Where?" asked Wendy, still unsure of the group.
"Never-Neverland," Asher replied.
Wendy raised an eyebrow. "Never-Neverland?"
"I know. It sounds like Michael Jackson's old ranch, doesn't it?" Fred joked, causing him and Mandy to laugh.
Wendy cocked her head. "Well, where is it?"
"You've gotta like take this old path that's like, by Heather Avenue. Then, you'll like come across this like old dock, with like piratey-looking boats. They'll like take you to this like little island that's like an amusement park," Mandy directed her.
"It's actually really neat," Fred insisted. "I took my cousin out there two weeks ago. It was awesome!"
"But Fred, aren't there, like, gangsters and, like, killers?" Mandy asked, placing a manicured hand over her heart.
"Nah. There's some kids that hang around there all the time, though. But they keep to themselves," Fred reassured them. He looked at Wendy with pleading eyes and said, "C'mon, Wendy! It'll be fun, trust me. And we'll get home by ten."
Wendy bit her lip, thinking. "Well…I'll have to talk to my dad. I might have to baby-sit my brothers."
"Bring them along!" Violet insisted. "I'll stick with ya."
Wendy smiled at her new friend. "I'll still have to ask my dad, but thanks, Violet."
"Let's go ask him now," Violet insisted, grabbing Wendy's wrist. She ran with Wendy, causing the two of them to laugh as they ran down the street.
Hidden in the greenery around them, a strange boy watched the two girls run home.