Rachael Jordan
The Lost Girls
My best friend loves Peter Pan. I try to tell her they are called the “lost boys” for a reason, but she doesn’t listen. Instead, she picks up a big stick from the ground, one that’s fallen from this tiny cluster of trees by the baseball fields where my brother is playing a game we aren’t watching. I like being around the pine needles -- they don’t make me itchy like the grass. She starts poking me in the side.
“I have already slayed you, Captain Hook,” she says.
I roll my eyes and lean against a tree.
I think being a kid is overrated.
I would also rather be Pan than Captain Hook. Then, maybe, she’d love me instead.
know fairies aren’t real. I know the lost boys aren't
I always give in to her. I refuse to be Hook, but I will
pretend to be Tinkerbell. Mostly because I love how
Julia Roberts plays her in the movie Hook and that
Tinkerbell is a little mean. I wish I could be a little
mean, but I can’t. I’m a nice girl. I say “yes” to
everyone, make everyone feel like they belong. I want
to stomp my foot like Tink and turn red all the way
from my toes to my head. I want to feel the steam
pop out of my ears and hear a harsh tinkle as I stomp
around letting everyone know how mad I am. But I