Amara Meadows has always placed her job first, but with her journalism career slowly failing, she seems lost.
Although when she ends up spending a month in the palace covering the coronation of White Bridge's prince, she finds more than herself.
F...
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The short train ride back home made it shockingly clear that nothing can make the memory of Xavier's kiss fade from my mind. His lips against mine were like poetry composed by Shakespeare, perfect and senseless. And just like a play by Shakespeare, it will forever be re-imagined in my mind.
"Move." A man shrugs past me and his quick movement causes me to drop my bags. I almost smile at the action, nothing screams 'East Wood' as loudly as rude people not caring about anyone but themselves. White Bridge was heavenly, but I'm finally home. Metaphorically speaking since I still need to get to my actual house and in order to accomplish that little detail, I need to find Wendy. My best friend isn't exactly a great source to count on for being on time or coming at all. In fact, she once left me stranded at the airport for two hours when I came back from visiting my parents in Texas.
I bend down and pick up my bags, carefully. I accidentally ripped my dress while getting off of the train and ripping it, even more, could lead to some underpants showcasing. I look around and even though the train station isn't busy I can't really look at people long enough to see if they're Wendy. For a brief second my eyes scan over someone who looks way too familiar to be a stranger. I can't look at him that long either, but he's moving towards me and the closer he gets the clearer it becomes that it's really him and not my mind being spiteful.
"Looking for me, I hope." At least a thousand different thoughts twirl through my head as I think of what to say. But him being Peter and me being an idiot stops my train of thought as he steps close enough for me to hug him. I do so, only for our arms to get tangled up, as it turns out he was reaching for my bags and not for my embrace. We both start laughing and I steal some time to take the reality in. Or more accurately, to take his appearance in.
He looks exactly the same, feature-wise that is. He's staring back at me with those same baby blue eyes that should come with some sort of danger warning. Except for his sunflower button-up and the brown leather jacket has been replaced, not to mention the fact that he cut his hair. I smile to myself as I realize he hasn't changed exactly, instead of little Peter Pan has grown up.
Trying again, I wrap my arms around his neck, needing a big brother hug more than anything right now. Even if he's not my big brother and even if I've never seen him as such. His chest continues to vibrate against my chest with unexpected laughter and even though his hands are full I feel them slightly wrap around me. "What are you doing here, Pete?" He pulls away and waits for the loud voice speaking over the intercom to stop. I swear there's some sort of twinkle assigned specifically to his eyes as he smiles at me.
"What do you mean what am I doing here? I missed you." He turns and extends his arm for me to take it. " Plus the lost boys were getting restless. "
We walked in silence to the parking lot and have been driving in the same soundless hell ever since. I don't get why we're not talking either, I mean I haven't seen Peter in like five months. You'd think we would have something to talk about but no. The radio isn't even on, since Peter is still driving that same beat-up truck he has been driving since a senior year and of course there aren't the parts to fix anything broken. Well, I'm sure there are, but Peter likes to keep it authentic and that means no radio for us normal people.
