Read Neverland Academy Online

Authors: Daelynn Quinn

Neverland Academy

Neverland Academy

Daelynn
Quinn

 

 

 
               
Disclaimer:

 

This is a work
of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are
either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely
coincidental.

 
               
©
2014 Erin Meredith

 
               
All
rights reserved
 

 

 
               
 

 

 
               
 

 

 
               
 

 

 
“‘Wendy,’ Peter Pan continued in a voice that no woman has
ever yet been able to resist, ‘Wendy, one girl is more use than twenty boys.’” 

 
               
 

 

 
               
J.
M. Barrie,
Peter Pan

 

 
 
 
 
               
 

 

Chapter
One

 
Gray and Cold

 

 
               
 

A rusty porch swing
creaked in the
early morning hours of mid-August with such a squeal that frightened away the
birds searching and pecking for their breakfast. But the teenage girl, with
olive skin and hair an unnatural shade of black with burgundy highlights,
seated in it didn’t care.

Daphne
Werring missed the noisy din of Atlanta’s busy streets. The symphony of
engines, horns, and sirens used to lull her to sleep every night in her
Buckhead apartment that sat three stories above a corner Starbucks. Her parents
moved the seventeen-year-old and her two younger brothers, Joshua and Max, to
rural Georgia—just outside of Athens—to experience a quiet life.

The
Werrings had always wanted to raise their children away from the crime and
corruption of the city but kept putting it off in favor of their careers.
Daphne would soon be finished with high school and the way her life was turning
out made them realize that they’d already put it off way too long. If they’d
waited any longer it would be too late. Mrs. Werring was an investigative
journalist who had always dreamed of starting her own local events magazine.
Athens would bring that dream to reality with the University of Georgia hosting
college football games and its reputation as an artist’s and musician’s Mecca.
Mr. Werring was a state prosecutor who’d made a successful living putting
criminals—and possibly even some innocents—behind bars. He could
have earned a higher salary in corporate law, but he settled to keep some moral
standing for his children to look up to.

Daphne
couldn’t care less about her father’s moral standing. She was just beginning to
find herself when they packed up and moved with barely a week’s notice. She finally
had a boyfriend;
finally
found a group
of friends she fit in with. So what if they all wore black and donned multiple
piercings in places that no one would think of jabbing a sterilized needle?
They understood her. She felt a kinship to them. Daphne was no longer the tiny,
awkward stick figure with too-big ballet slippers and wide set
Chinese
eyes as the children teased her. She belonged.

Unfortunately,
they were not the kinds of friends Daphne’s mother and father envisioned their
daughter fraternizing with. She was from a respectable family and therefore
would have respectable friends. Daphne would roll her eyes and grunt at her
parents’ hauteur. Why couldn’t they understand? The friends she made were real
friends, not the ones who pretend to like you and then turn around and stab you
in the back when they think you’re not watching. Daphne had a few of those as
well.
It’s all their fault
, she thought.
If they hadn’t taunted her into coming to that stupid party, she wouldn’t have
knocked out Kiera, the district attorney’s daughter, and Daphne’s parents would
never have found out about her boyfriend, Rocks—the drummer in the band,
Death
to Unicorns
. That was the proverbial straw
that broke the camel’s back. One week later, they packed up the Escalade and drove
to their new home. And Daphne hated the world.

From
the front porch of her new home—an old Victorian on Morton Road, just on
the outskirts of Athens—Daphne could see the sharpened spires of
Neverland Academy. They stuck up out of the distant pines like crocodile teeth.
Her brothers would be starting the semester there next week. They’d be boarding
there as well, even though it was only a few miles away. Daphne’s mother was
worried that with her starting up the magazine—and keeping close tabs on
Daphne—she wouldn’t have enough time and attention to give the boys.
“It’d just be easier for everyone if you just lived at the academy,” she told
them. “At least for this semester. It would help you make some new friends too.
Then, once things have settled down and the magazine is running smoothly, you
can come back home and commute to school if you’d like.”

Daphne
would be attending a different school, since Neverland Academy was for boys
only. She was so not looking forward to starting her senior year at a new
school. She wished she could just get her GED and move back to the city, away
from this miserable, lonely existence.
Besides, there are too many
mosquitoes here
, she thought as she slapped
one guzzling from her arm.

Something
about the spires frightened Daphne, and yet enticed her at the same time. Like
most girls her age she was curious. She sat, listening to the creaking of the
porch swing as she pushed off on her toes, back and forth, and watched the
spires intently. The iced coffee she sipped did nothing to stifle the beads of
sweat emerging from her forehead. Somehow the humidity seemed worse out here,
away from the city. It was probably only because back at home she spent most of
her time indoors, but she wouldn’t admit that to herself. She searched for more
reasons to hate this place. And she found plenty.

The
squeal of the screen door behind her made Daphne lurch, spilling a few drops of
her coffee onto her bare legs. Some of it seeped into the hem of her blue and
black polka dot pajama shorts.

Max
stumbled out the door, dressed to the nines in his school uniform: crisply
pressed khaki trousers, white button up shirt, burgundy blazer and matching
tie. His black shoes were already scuffed up from wear.

“Max!
You made me spill my coffee!” Daphne snorted.

“Why
aren’t you dressed yet?” Max asked, combing his hand through the thick tuft of
dirty blond hair on his head. “We’re leaving soon.”

“It’s
only 8:30. And the school is right there. What’s the rush?” Daphne licked some
coffee from her wrist while she feebly tried to swipe the puddle from her leg.

“There’s
a lot we have to do.” Max fingered a tattered brochure, crinkled with over
handling. “There’s the tour, the interviews, not to mention we are moving in
today. And I’m sure mom and dad want to drill the headmaster and professors
before they leave. It’s gonna be a full day, sis.”

Daphne
snatched the brochure from Max’s hand. “Hey, give that back,” he whined.

“I’m
just looking. Chill, okay?” Daphne’s eyes were drawn to the logo, a golden N
and A interlocked together. Something seemed odd about it, but she couldn’t
discern why. The burgundy background was cut with stock photos of boys happily
walking the campus and sitting in the grass with books. Daphne snorted to
herself and shook her head at how lame it looked. Real school is nothing like
that. Who did they think they were fooling? Oh yeah, mindless little boys and
their optimistic parents.

Daphne
carefully opened the brochure, trying not to rip the whitened folds, though
they were already torn at the top and bottom edges. Inside the cover was a
professional headshot of an older gentleman, maybe in his early fifties. He
looked to be a large man—not fat, but thick. His dark gray receding hair
with silver frosting at the hairline matched his trimmed beard. The man was
smiling in the photo, but something seemed wrong. Daphne could feel chills
climb her spine when she looked into his eyes. They were like glass. Gray and
cold.

“Daphne!”
A voice sang from inside the house. Daphne tried to ignore it. She was in no
mood to speak to either of her parents this early in the morning.

Suddenly
the screen door flew open and Josh stood in the gaping entrance. His dark brown
hair was still damp from his shower, but he was dressed nearly identical to
Max, only his shoes were pristine, reflecting the bright sunshine into Daphne’s
brown eyes. She had to squint and turn her head to the side to avoid being
blinded.

“Daph,
mom’s been calling you. We’re leaving in, like, ten minutes. You’d better hurry
up.” With an annoyed huff, Daphne closed the brochure and tossed it at Max, who
deftly caught it. Josh stepped outside and held the door open as he polished
his wire-rimmed glasses with his tie.

“Coming!”
Daphne called out grudgingly, pushing past her brothers and stomping into the
cool, air-conditioned house. She was so not looking forward to another long,
boring day. But at least she’d get out of the house.

 
        
 

***

 

The
inside of the car was freezing. Daphne clutched her shivering arms, wishing
she’d brought a sweater or maybe even a parka. Her mother was from Vermont and
the colder it was the more comfortable she was. So any time Daphne spent with
her mother she was bound to be cold. Sure, it was stifling hot outside, but
this was ridiculous.

In
a hurry to get ready, Daphne skipped her usual shower and threw on an old tee
shirt—which was so small it showed her belly button ring when she raised
her arms—and jeans. She didn’t really care how she looked. The place she
was going would be full of boys, but she hadn’t planned on taking any home with
her. She had a boyfriend back in Atlanta. And she was going to hold on to him
as long as she could. Long distance relationships were a pain in the ass, she
knew, but Rocks was in a band and if their relationship continued she’d have to
get used to him being on the road anyway, away from home.  Not only did
she care deeply for him, but she would also do just about anything to anger her
mom now. And that meant continuing her relationship with the boy she’d been
forbidden to see.

As
she cradled her arms in front of her chest, trying to conserve some warmth,
Daphne stared out the window of the back seat at the passing farmlands and
forests. Her brothers rested quietly in the center row of the Escalade, a
complete 180 from their usual behavior of exchanging punches and sneers.
Although she hated the country, Daphne was fascinated by her surroundings. She
was a city girl, through and through, and the thought of being lost in a forest
terrified her. But at the same time, the risk-taker in her wanted to. Just
once, at least. She needed some excitement in her life, especially since
everything screamed boring around here. She made a mental note to try it
sometime, especially since her being missing for a day would freak out her
parents. Beyond the stretch of forest came a huge pecan grove. Trees stretched
as far as she could see, all lined up in diagonal rows, something outside the
realm of nature. She giggled a little at the preciseness of it all after seeing
the mass chaos of the woods before.

After
about fifteen minutes of driving along curving backroads, they turned onto a
single-lane dirt road. “J. Roger Way,” the sign read. The sign looked rather
old with paint chipping away at the last word.

“Are
you sure this is the right way, honey?” Mrs. Werring asked.

“That’s
what the GPS says. I can’t see the spires anymore, can you?”

“No,
the trees are blocking them.”

Less
than half a mile on to J. Roger Way they had reached their destination. The
front gate at Neverland Academy was closed, but a guard, dressed in a suit
similar to the boys’ uniforms, quickly approached the car and, after confirming
the family’s arrival, proceeded to open the gate. Daphne once again stared at
the logo, which was a large bronze piece mounted on the front of the wrought
iron gate. It was all one piece she could see as the gate opened inward,
attached only to the right side of the gate. Just then, she realized what it
was about the logo that looked so peculiar. It had been changed from something
else. The way one line of the “A” extended down in a straight line through the
horizontal line. It was so clear to her now. It used to be a “T.”

The
driveway into the property must have been a mile long, Daphne thought. It
seemed endless, though it was picturesque. Ancient sycamore trees stretched
into a protective canopy, which created a natural tunnel down the drive. Every
now and then a patch of sunlight would poke through the dappled green tent
above.

“Look,
there it is!” Max cried out, cutting through the nervous tension the boys were
emitting.

Daphne
leaned over and peered through the gap between the front seats where she could
see through the windshield. Up ahead the trees parted and a massive building
with white columns grew closer. Daphne couldn’t believe her eyes. This couldn’t
be the same place she’d seen over the treetops. This looked like something
straight out of
Gone with the Wind
. The
driveway curved, circling around a massive marble fountain where three mermaids
leaned against large jagged stones. The one on top stretched up onto her arms
and appeared to be spitting the water straight up into the air, where it
dribbled down onto the others. Daphne’s father pulled the car around the
circular driveway and stopped at the front entrance.

Daphne
continued to stare at the fountain, entranced—she’d always had a strange
fascination with mermaids, the way some little girls loved unicorns—while
her family discussed the architecture and confusion about the gothic spires on
an old southern plantation manor. Intrigued by its beauty and puzzled by its
symbolism, she couldn’t imagine why there would be a statue of mermaids at an
all-boy institute.

“Daphne?”

She
whipped her head around to find that the car was empty and everyone was waiting
for her.

“Can’t
I just stay here?”

“Are
you crazy?” her father bellowed. “It’s almost ninety degrees! You’ll cook
yourself to death in there!”

“No,”
Daphne protested as she climbed out of the vehicle, pulling her shirt down over
her belly. “I mean can’t I just stay outside while you guys do your thing? I’ll
stay in the shade, I promise.”

Mr.
and Mrs. Werring shared a pensive glance.

“We
don’t know how long this is going take, Daphne,” Mrs. Werring said. “We could
be here for most of the day.”

Other books

Kamikaze (Last Call #1) by Rogers, Moira
A Hard Ride Home by Emory Vargas
Wheel of Fortune by Cameron Jace
Make Them Pay by Graham Ison
Blowback by Peter May
Political Suicide by Michael Palmer