As I race through the streets on my motorcycle with Wendy’s arms wrapped around my waist, my chest threatens to burst with happiness. I’ve been waiting for this day for forever. I’ve planned every detail of what I’m going to say and how I’m going to give her the graduation gift I made her—or us—that’s nestled in my pocket. I had to be sneaky about it, but I managed to swipe her acorn nut “kiss” a couple of weeks ago, so I could make some slight modifications to that and my thimble.

Wendy graduates high school next week, and by then, I’ll have taken my final tests with Ms. Mills, making me a graduate, too, minus the fancy ceremony and proud parents, but still a graduate. Wen told me she’s going to be super busy next weekend with the thing they have at school and the party with her family, so I decided we could have our celebration a week early.

The closer we get to the ocean, the saltier the air gets, and it stirs emotions inside me with just the scent, knowing it’s my special spot with the girl I love. I think she senses it, too, because her arms squeeze me tighter, and her body melts against the back of mine.

Pulling onto the sand, I head straight for the ocean then cut right to ride through the shallow water lapping against the shore. The spray from the tires makes her squeal and laugh as she hooks her legs around my waist and leans back with her arms thrown wide.

Unable to wait any longer, I slow the bike and come to a stop right in the foam. I plant my feet to keep us steady then help her spin around in my lap, so we’re face to face.

“Hi,” she says smiling.

I chuckle. “Hi yourself.”

Framing her face in my hands, I kiss her lips hungrily, reveling in the traces of salty mist with her vanilla-flavored lip balm. She sinks her nails into my lower back as I sink into her mouth, tangling our tongues and pouring every emotion I’ve ever had into this all-important moment.

Eventually, I force us to come up for air before I take things too far and end up inside her. Not that that’s not the plan—that is always the plan however often I can swing it—but I want us to talk first. I want to give her, her gift and see my “kiss” adorning her body as I paint her with real ones under the moonlight on our beach. I’ve fantasized about it at least a hundred times, and I don’t want my rampant libido to ruin things by going out of order.

“Peter, I need to talk to you about something.”

Shit. When I ran the night through my mind, I never took into consideration that Wendy might say or do something to alter the course of events. Good thing I’m excellent at improvising.

“What’s on your mind?” Her blue eyes bounce between mine, and she traps her lower lip between her teeth. My mouth quirks to one side as I use my thumb to free it, like I always do. “Come on, Wen, tell me.”

“I got accepted into Queens University.”

My brows draw together. “I thought you were going to East Carolina and living at home.”

“That’s because I hadn’t heard back from Queens. My dad finally called to ask about the status of my application, and they said they’d sent the acceptance letter months ago. It must’ve gotten lost in the mail or something,” she says with a dismissive hand then continues to chatter excitedly. “Anyway, they assumed I’d chosen to go somewhere else when they didn’t hear back, but they still have room for me, so I’m in.”

“Wow, that’s great. Are you still planning on living at home?”

Her smile falters, and her shoulders sag the slightest bit. Enough to tell me I’m not going to like her answer. “No. Queens is in Charlotte, almost five hours away.”

“That’s…far.”

I’m not sure how else to respond to that. There’s no way I can drive ten hours round trip to see her at school. My only mode of transportation is this junker bike I fixed up, but it’s not good for anything other than local driving. I’d never trust it on a highway or for long periods of time.

“I know,” she says, “but it’s where everyone in my dad’s family has gone to school, so it’s a family tradition. And they have a really great finance department; plus, because of my dad’s connections, I can get a job interning at one of the local firms, which will give me a leg up on things once I get my degree.”

I nod like I agree that everything she’s saying is a great thing when, really, I want to scream and tell her none of it is remotely good. She’s not supposed to leave me. She’s supposed to stay with me in Neverland like we always talked about.

“When does school start?”

“Not until the fall, but my dad got me into an early summer program that starts next week.”

Clearing my throat, I do my best to smile for her. “That’s great, Wen. I’m really happy for you. I bet you’ll have lots of fun.”

Worry flashes in her eyes. “Peter, I want you to come with me. Freshmen have to live in the dorms the first year, but after that, I could move into whatever apartment you have. Charlotte’s a big city, you could find a job, and after my first year, I’ll get a part-time one to help with expenses. We can make this work, you and me, just like we always planned. It’ll just be somewhere else.”

The ocean breeze picks up, blowing her hair to the west, the caramel strands rippling sideways like her future is already tugging her away from me.

“I can’t leave Tink and the boys. I have to keep an eye on them, or there’s no telling what Croc will do.”

In the past year, I finally started filling out, and now I’m bigger and stronger than that piece of shit. I made sure he knows there’s a heavy price to pay if he ever lays a hand on any of them again. If I go, their assurance of not having to put up with his abuse goes with me.

“Oh, right, of course.” She glances down at her hands between us, then nods as though reaffirming her words. “No, you’re right. You can’t leave them.”

She sniffles, and I panic, lifting her chin to get a look at her face. The tears are drying in the warm breeze almost as fast as they fall, and I don’t know if I prefer the evidence being wiped away or if it’s comforting to, at least know, she isn’t unaffected.

“Don’t cry, Wen. This is going to be such a good thing for you.”

“And you? What will you do?”

“Don’t worry about me. I already have a mechanic job lined up. It comes with room and board, so it’s a pretty sweet deal.”

I’m telling the truth, sort of. The job I can have if I want it is working at Croc’s other shop while living at the Jolly Roger Clubhouse, which is basically a biker gang on steroids. That’s where I found out Hook went after he left the school. From how it sounds, he’s thriving over there, collecting a nice group of criminal ruffians he calls the Pirates. But there’s no way I’m joining that crew and getting involved in the illegal shit they deal with. Wendy would be so disappointed in me, not to mention, I’m not dragging the other kids into that kind of life. I’ll figure something else out. I always do.

“That sounds great,” she says, her tone lacking enthusiasm. After a few seconds, she whispers a confession I don’t expect from my normally confident girl. “I’m scared, Peter.”

My protective streak flares, ready to battle her demons, whatever or whoever they are. “Scared of what?”

“What if I’m no good? The financial planning business is still such a boys club, what if no one takes me seriously?”

I exhale a sigh of relief that she’s not in any real danger. “That’s ridiculous,” I say with a crooked grin. “Everyone knows one girl is more useful than twenty boys.”

Another sniffle, but this time, it’s shared with a watery smile. “You really believe that?”

“One hundred percent,” I say, and I mean it. “You’re going to grow up to do amazing things, Wendy Darling. No matter what you choose to do, you’ll be making a difference in people’s lives. Just like you did with me and the Lost Boys.”

I brush her hair behind her ears and hold her face, willing her to see in my eyes every grain of truth in my soul. “Don’t ever doubt yourself. Ms. Mills says the moment you doubt you can do something, you cease forever to be able to do it. That sounds like pretty good advice to me.”

“I’m going to miss you so much.”

Her last word breaks on a sob, and I gather her against my chest and hold her tight as she soaks my T-shirt in enough tears for the both of us. The ring box in my pocket burns my thigh with the unfulfilled promise it represents: us, together, now and always. It might not be true physically anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can cut her out of me any easier than I could my own heart. Wendy will always be with me, always be a part of me. Nothing will ever change that.

Resting my cheek on the top of her head, I close my eyes and memorize the feel of her silky hair on my skin. “You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming?” She nods slightly, her wet eyelashes fluttering at the base of my throat. “That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.”

She lifts her head to stare up at me, fresh tears swimming in her eyes. “I love you, Peter.”

“Love you more, Wen,” I rasp.

Then I show her just how much as we lose ourselves in each other one last time. An hour before dawn, we ride in silence, her cheek resting in the hollow of my spine and her arms clutching my waist for the very last time. I contemplate whether to give her my gift, but I’d meant them as a symbol of us being together forever, and that’s not happening. At least not now.

Maybe if I hold onto them, she’ll come back to me someday, and I can give them to her then. They’d be a symbol of a new beginning for us, a way to honor our past and represent our future.

When I pull up in front of her house, she gets off the bike and stands next to me. I snake my arm around her waist and keep her close to my side, reluctant to let her go sooner than I have to.

“I hate goodbyes,” she says softly.

“Don’t say goodbye. Goodbye means going away, and going away means forgetting. Don’t ever forget me, okay?”

She reaches up and fingers an errant chunk of hair hanging in my face. “I could never.”

Then with one final kiss, I gently push her up onto the curb, praying she turns around and leaves before the stinging behind my eyes gets any worse. She needs me to be strong for her, happy, and I’ll be damned if I ever give her anything other than what she needs.

My prayer goes unanswered as she walks backward, like she’s rewinding the thousands of moments we’ve had together over the last six years. Finally, she turns and climbs up the trellis to her balcony. Once there, she looks down from the bannister and places her hand over her heart.

I love you, Peter.

My fist presses to mine.

Love you more, Wen.