Authors: Daelynn Quinn
Chapter
Six
A
Daring Escape
Daphne sulked
. She lay in her bed,
hearing the words of her father, recorded word for word in the deep and shallow
recesses of her mind. Those were words she wouldn’t forget in a hundred years.
So hateful. So hurtful. Did her parents really hate her that much?
“You’re
a screw-up Daphne,” he’d barked from behind the wheel of the Escalade. “You have
no respect. No morals. No conscience. How could you do this to your mother and
me? How could you do this to yourself? You say you want to be treated like an
adult, but you refuse to act like one. A bratty, spoiled child is what you are.
A selfish brat with no concern for others. If it weren’t for your mother’s and
my careers, we would have let you rot in juvie years ago. We
should
have. When are you ever going to grow up?”
Daphne
had silently cried all the way home in the passenger seat of the Escalade, while
her mother had driven the BMW. But she kept her face pointed to the side,
staring out the window, so her father wouldn’t see the tears, though the
glistening on her cheeks was difficult to mask in the reflection of streetlamps
and oncoming headlights. She refused to let him see the powerful effect
his words had on her. She wouldn’t let him win. She was tough. She could take
care of herself. It was something she’d learned to do among the rough crowds
she frequented in Atlanta. She didn’t need him or her mother. She just needed
to get away.
Daphne
had been grounded for a month. Imprisoned in her bedroom until the start of
school, and then every afternoon and weekend after that. No extracurricular
activities, not that she had planned on any. No dates or afternoons out with
new friends. She was being treated like the loser her parents thought her to
be.
When
she’d returned home, Daphne had slammed her door with such force that she could
have sworn she felt the entire house vibrate under her feet. She’d stood there
fuming, wanting desperately to throw something, to break something. Instead she
looked toward the window. The same window she thought she saw Finn at earlier
in the night. He
had
been at her house.
Maybe she really did see him outside her window. Maybe he was still out there.
Somewhere.
Daphne
shut off the light. She sat by the window for hours, searching for Finn, hoping
he’d still be there or come back for her. She was ready to go. She didn’t care
that she barely knew the boy, nor that she’d be living in a den of rising
testosterone. Daphne just wanted out. She’d fallen asleep there and woken up
the next morning with a deep red indentation on the cheek where she’d been
leaning against the windowsill. She spent the entire day by the window, knowing
perfectly well he wouldn’t just show up in broad daylight, but still hoping. If
he were to come, she’d go with him and never look back.
Daphne
had ignored her mother when she’d been offered breakfast and lunch. The only
thing it seemed she could control was her food intake. And Daphne was going to
hang on to every bit of control that she could. She would not eat. She would
not give her parents the satisfaction of knowing they owned her and turned the
steering wheel on her life. If she was really stuck here, and Finn never came
back for her, she had to do something productive. Starving herself was her only
option. Her parents would eventually break down and free her when they found
how emaciated she’d become.
When
Daphne caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror she was horrified—and
grateful that Finn hadn’t shown up. Her skin was pale; her eyes were red and
puffy. Vines of mascara had slithered down her cheeks. She could have passed
for a new member of KISS.
After
a long shower—the only event that granted her freedom from her
incarceration since she wasn’t eating—Daphne put on a black tank top and
her favorite pair of long flannel pajama pants, the pink ones with speckled red
lips that looked like she’d been kissed all over.
As
she towel-dried her hair in front of the mirror Daphne caught a glimpse of
movement behind her. She turned sharply, holding still and quiet. Her eyes
scanned the area, but all was calm. Then they rested on the window.
Daphne
dropped the damp towel, impervious to the damage the moisture might cause to
the hardwood floor. She walked slowly, but deliberately, toward the window,
never shifting her eyes off it, not even to blink. She thought of turning the
light off, but she knew she’d have to look away and she refused to do that,
even for a split second.
Daphne
twisted the locks and wrenched open the window. The old wood scraped against
the metal frame and Daphne paused, hoping that her parents were watching the
news so they wouldn’t hear it. The only thing that could ensnare their focus was
the news based out of Atlanta, where her father still commuted for work every
day. With the window only cracked about two inches, Daphne lowered her eyes and
peered out the crevice.
“Finn?”
she whispered. Her request was answered with darkness and the chirping of
crickets. She raised her lips to the opening. “Finn, is that you?”
Suddenly,
a pair of eyes shot up in front of hers. “Hey Daffy!”
The
shock forced Daphne to fall back, clapping her head on the frame of her bed.
“Ouch!”
The
window screeched as it was forced up by Finn’s hand and he crawled inside.
“You
okay?” he asked, standing above her.
“Of
course I’m not okay,” Daphne yipped. “I just hit my head.” She stared at Finn
expectantly. “You think maybe you could help me up?”
“Um,
okay.” Finn grabbed Daphne’s hand and yanked her up roughly as if he were
pulling a 90-pound carrot from the dry Georgia clay. Daphne’s expectations of a
potential suitor were crushed in that moment.
“Daphne?
Everything okay in there?” Daphne jumped at her mother’s voice and spotted a
shadow under the crack of her bedroom door.
“Who’s
that?” Finn asked.
“Shh!
My mom,” Daphne whispered. “You probably woke the nearest town opening that
damn window.” She turned back toward the door. “Everything’s fine, mom!”
“Hide!”
Daphne whispered to Finn, pushing him down to the floor and pointing under the
bed.
The
door flung up open and none too soon. As Mrs. Werring entered from the opposite
side of the room, Finn slid silently and effortlessly under the bed,
disappearing under the bed skirt.
“Why
is your window open?” Mrs. Werring interrogated.
“I
was cold. You think maybe you could turn the air up a little?”
Mrs.
Werring sauntered over to the window and leaned out. She wore her suspicion on
her sleeve though she would never admit it. After seeing nothing of interest
outside, Daphne’s mom sighed. “Daphne, there’s no screen. You’ll let in the
mosquitoes. Put on a sweater and close the window.”
“Okay,”
Daphne said, fighting the urge to argue.
“Are
you sure you don’t want any dinner? I’ve been keeping it warm in the oven.”
Daphne
shook her head, frowning.
“Daphne
I know what you’re doing. It won’t work. You’ll drive yourself crazy with
hunger. It’s not worth it.”
“I’m
not hungry,” Daphne grumbled.
“Suit
yourself.” The door remained intentionally wide open as Daphne’s mother left.
Daphne stood by, listening as her mother’s footsteps descended the stairs. As
soon as they hit the downstairs floor, Daphne shut the door and Finn slid out
into the open.
“You
know you have dirty socks under there?”
“How
did you get up here?” Daphne demanded. She plodded to the window and stuck her
head out, viewing the straight vertical drop to the ground below.
“Are
you kidding? Haven’t you noticed all the balusters and gables on this house?
Queen Anne architecture is a cinch to climb.”
“Balu-what?
Anyway there’s nothing out here.” Daphne took notice that the wall her bedroom
was on was the only flat side of the house.
Finn
leaned out beside her, brushing against her shoulder. Daphne jerked away,
rejecting the tingles that shot through her skin at his touch. But he pulled
her back against him, giving her a better glimpse of his view. His breath was
warm against her ear. “There,” Finn said as he pointed to the corner where the
covered wraparound porch ended. “I just climbed that. The reach from there to
the window isn’t as far as it looks.”
For
a moment, Daphne wondered if she could reach it, being as small as she was.
Then she became painfully aware again at how close Finn was to her. It’s not
that she didn’t like him. She kind of did. He
was
pleasing to the eyes. Perhaps that’s what made her so uncomfortable.
Because the last thing she wanted right now, after everything that happened at
the club, was another boy stealing her heart. And then crushing it under
steel-toed boots.
“Shut
up and let’s go,” Daphne grumbled, pushing away from the window.
“Really?”
Finn asked, hope gleaming through every pore on his face.
“It’s
either that or stay locked up in my room for the next month. And who knows what
after that. Let me grab some stuff and I’ll be ready.” Daphne grabbed an empty
backpack from her closet, stuffed it with some clothes and a few things from
the bathroom, and took one final look at her darkened room before fleeing with
Finn.
***
“How
far is it?” Daphne asked, creeping carefully over the uneven ground in the
forest, thickly blanketed with hulking shadows. She’d had serious reservations
about joining Finn’s journey back to Neverland Academy when she’d discovered he
hadn’t had a car parked in a hidden alcove along the wooded road as she’d
imagined. He’d actually walked the whole way to her house. And now she was
expected to walk all the way back to the academy through the woods. She felt
uneasy enough about that as it was, but having to do it in the dark, with only
his flashlight to keep her from tripping over rocks or walking face first into
spider webs or stepping on a copperhead was almost too much to bear. But Daphne
had decided it was better than going back home. “Consider it an adventure,”
Finn had said. “Loosen up and let yourself have some fun!” Daphne tried, but
she had a hard time finding fun in the mosquito-infested woods in the middle of
summer.
“Usually
it takes me about thirty minutes,” Finn replied, pushing a branch full of
scratchy leaves aside for Daphne, “but at the rate you’re going we’re looking
at least an hour or two.”
“Seriously?”
Daphne whined and leaned back against a narrow tree trunk. She felt a pinch and
slapped her arm. Itchy welts were already beginning to dot her skin. By the
time they’d reach the academy she’d be a poster child for chicken pox.
“It’s
okay,” Finn said happily. “I don’t mind waiting on you.”
“I
can’t believe you don’t have a car,” Daphne grumbled. “Or even a bike.”
“Never
needed one. Belle has a motorbike. She’s offered to let me use it, but I don’t
see the point. I never need to go anywhere far. Everything I need is at the
academy.”
Daphne’s
attention perked as if she’d been bitten by the words themselves. “Belle?” At
that moment, an owl hooted through the tree limbs behind her. “How
appropriate,” she silently thought.
“Belle’s
the headmaster’s niece. Don’t worry; she’s nothing like him. Hates him almost
as much as I do. She’s one of us—the outcasts, that is. The only girl
member of our gang. Actually, she’s the one who gave me your address. She can
be a little nippy at times, though. Not sure why. I guess it’s just a girl
thing.”
“So,
are you two . . . you know . . . ?”
“Are
we what?” Finn turned back questioningly, with a naïveté well suited for a boy
much younger than he.
“You
know,” Daphne said again. “Are you and Belle . . . together?”
“You
mean is she my girlfriend?”
“Well,
yeah?”
Finn
exploded with laughter, so loud that Daphne crouched and hid under some bushes.
They’d passed a farmhouse not too far back and she worried that some redneck
hillbilly might come out with his shotgun. In her head she could hear the
haunting banjo from
Deliverance
. It was
no use trying to quiet him. If he’d been laughing any harder he’d collapse from
exhaustion.
“Me
and Belle?” Finn said when his laughter began to wind down. “No. Belle’s a good
friend, but she’s not like that. She’s like one of the guys. None of us have
girlfriends. Well, I did once—Lily, the cook’s daughter. But we’re just
friends now. What do we need girlfriends for anyway? That just leads to
romance, which leads to marriage, which leads to children, which leads to
adulthood.” Finn made a face as if he’d just smelled a pile of fresh steaming
dog poop.
“But
you’re practically an adult already, aren’t you? How old are you?”
“I’m
seventeen for three more months. And it doesn’t matter how old I am anyway.
Being an adult means being responsible, paying bills, working.” Finn’s voice
took on an intonation that sounded like he was about to vomit.
“But
you can’t just stop aging. You’re going to be an adult eventually, whether you
like it or not. It’s nature.”
“In
the physical sense, yes. But I’ll never be an adult as society sees it. Not as
long as I stay at the academy.”
“I
don’t understand. What does the academy have anything to do with it?”
“At
Neverland Academy, we do what we want, when we want. It means never having to
follow rules or do what you’re told. Never doing homework or stupid book
reports. Never being punished for having fun. Never falling in love and having
your heart broken. Never having any responsibility. Never growing up.”