They all thought they were special, but only I was. I was first and none of them could take that from me. I was first and best and last and always.

Yes, because it’s obviously better if you beat each other to death with rocks instead of stabbing each other like civilized human beings,” Sal muttered, looking away.

Peter had just forgotten, the way that Peter did forget about anything that wasn’t right in front of him at the moment.

It was Peter’s island, Peter who’d brought us here, and in the back of every boy’s mind was some form of the same thought— He could send me back, if he wanted.

I didn’t believe him at first, about the island, though.”

“I didn’t either,”I said. “I don’t know that anyone does. It sounds like a fantastic lie.”

“It is a fantastic lie,” Sal said, and her face was very earnest. “This isn’t a wonderful place for boys to play and have adventures and stay young for always. It’s a killing place, and we’re all just soldiers in Peter’s war.

We were still children, for all that we thought we weren’t. We were in that in-between place, the twilight between childish things and grown-up things.