Second Star to the Fright (Disney Chills 3)

“Hey, where’re you going?” he asked. “Did you forget about today?”

“What do you mean?” Barrie said, skidding to a halt. He could feel the hook’s weight in his backpack. He scanned his memory, but his brain felt groggy and twitchy at the same time.

“It’s our graduation today,” John added. “We’ve gotta head to the auditorium.”

“Oh, right!” Barrie said, smacking his forehead. “How could I forget?”

“Yeah, weirdo,” Michael said. “Sure you’re okay? You’ve been acting strange lately.”

“Yeah, like…way spacier than normal,” John added. “And that’s saying a lot.”

Barrie studied his friends’ faces. They looked genuinely concerned. He wanted to confide in them and confess everything. Tell them about taking the hook from the museum and making his wish to never grow up, and then how Captain Hook’s ghost kept haunting him.

But then he remembered his mother.

She didn’t believe him—why would they?

But he was losing his mind. He needed help. He opened his mouth to tell them, but then Michael grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the auditorium.

“Come on, we can’t be late for the biggest day of our lives,” Michael said.

“Junior high, here we come!” John added with a hoot. “Lost Boys forever!”

They broke out their secret handshake, and for a moment, Barrie forgot about the hook and the pirate’s ghost and felt better than he had in days. Maybe Hook’s ghost would forget about him and leave him alone. Maybe things would start to get better.

Cheered by that thought, he followed his friends into the auditorium, which was overly chilled by air-conditioning and smelled like a new car. Parents were filing in through the doors, excited to capture their kids traipsing across the stage to receive their certificates.

Barrie scanned the crowd but didn’t spot his parents. Michael and John waved to their parents, who had settled into the third row together. They wa

ved, then chatted away like friendly neighbors, mostly because that’s exactly what they were.

Strange, Barrie thought. Where were his parents? Not to mention his annoying aunt and cousins. Though he wouldn’t mind so much if they missed the ceremony. His parents were probably rushing to get away from their work. They’d been so stressed and busy lately that they were always running late. They’d likely arrive any minute, breathless and scattered but excited to whip out their phones and snap goofy pictures of him parading onstage with his class.

Before he could worry about it further, Mr. Bates rapped on his clipboard and ordered them to settle down. “Line up,” he called out. “Alphabetical order, please.”

Barrie dutifully assembled with his class backstage, separating from Michael and John and slotting into the proper spot. The ceremony began with their names being called in alphabetical order, one after the next. Each kid walked across the stage to shake the principal’s hand, received their certificate, and posed for a picture, then exited the other way.

When Barrie got to the front of the line, his heart hammered in anticipation. This was his first real graduation. In the fall, he would move up to junior high, and so much would change. He just hoped that he could stay best friends with Michael and John. Despite his fears about the new school, he knew that he could handle it as long as the Lost Boys stayed together.

He tensed up backstage, waiting for the principal to call his name.

“Wendy Derry,” the principal called out.

Barrie’s mouth dropped open.

The principal skipped right over his name to the girl standing behind him. Wendy shot him a strange look—like she didn’t even know him—then walked past him onto the stage.

“Hey, Mr. Bates,” Barrie said, finding his teacher backstage. He had a gnawing feeling in his stomach. “The principal forgot to call my name. What should I do?”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Bates said, looking concerned.

“They skipped right to Wendy,” Barrie said, certain his teacher would fix it. “There must be some kind of mistake. The principal didn’t call my name to graduate.”

Mr. Bates checked his clipboard with the class list on it, then glanced down at Barrie with that glazed-over look.

“Barrie Darling?” Mr. Bates said with empty eyes. His voice sounded monotone. “Oh, right. You’re still in fifth grade. You’ll always be in fifth grade, remember?”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Barrie stammered. His stomach sank. “My grades aren’t the best, but they’re okay. Grady has way worse grades, and they called his name.”