"I guess this place just makes me sort of introspective." She gave me an embarrassed tilt of her lips "And something about it makes me feel as if I've been here before. A sort of . . . déjà vu maybe. Isn't that strange?"
I looked at the small rock space, thinking that maybe I felt the same way, too. There was something about the width of the sill beneath my hand that had felt familiar somehow, as if my skin knew every bump and groove before I'd really even felt it. No, not entirely strange. "Maybe we have been here before," I teased. "Maybe you were an Indian princess and I was a . . . chief. Maybe we met in another lifetime." I grinned at her, leaning my hip against the rock.
She laughed, the sound of it echoing into the cavernous space in which we were standing. "How come when people imagine their past lives, they always cast themselves as someone famous or important?" She tilted her head. "Everyone is Elvis or Cleopatra or Einstein. Why wasn't anyone ever Joe Green, a mechanic from Long Beach in a past life?"
I chuckled. "When it comes to other lives, I say dream big or go home."
She laughed as she shook her head, raising her delicate eyebrows. "I'd rather be someone simple, with a simple life, simple problems." She looked around. "Not a princess. Maybe just a gatherer. I'd walk the forest all day looking for roots, flowers, and herbs, and I'd be happy. It would be enough." She shot me a smile. And I had to agree with her, because I'd had all the fancy things, the best that money could buy, and yet, in this quiet place, there was . . . happiness? Peacefulness? The very antithesis of everything else in my life: simplicity. Surrounded by nothing but trees and sky, in the middle of the forest, with this girl felt . . . right. We were looking at each other seriously now, a current of some kind flowing between us. Something I wasn't entirely sure I understood, because it seemed like so much, so soon. Lily looked away first, just as I caught the first tinge of blush in her cheeks.
"Here, there's one more thing I wanted to show you." She turned and I followed her. "Look," she said, bending to something lying on the ground beneath a nearby tree. I went to her and bent down, too, the light from the moon casting just enough light for me to see what she was pointing at. I picked up one small, shiny, black piece of rock, holding it up and marveling.
"Arrowheads," I murmured.
"Yes. What's strange is that there are so many of them, all in one place," she whispered.
"Huh," I said, feeling something like wonder, putting the black one down and picking up a different reddish one, realizing who would have loved these even more than me. "Ryan loved history. He would have loved these. Damn." I picked up another one from the ground and held it up. It was a soft pink color, the tip still pointed and sharp.
"Who's Ryan?" Lily asked.
I snapped my head up, not even realizing I'd mentioned his name out loud. I studied her for a moment. "Where do you live?" I asked, raising a brow.
Lily laughed softly. "Ah, tit for tat?" She was quiet, but she didn't appear to be angry. I waited, watching her. "I live with my mother not far from here. A couple miles or so."
I nodded, clearing my throat. "Ryan, he was my best friend. He . . . he passed away recently."
Lily studied my face, her violet eyes seeming to look right into me. "Oh, I'm sorry," she whispered.
Uncomfortable, I looked away, back to the arrowheads. "It is strange that they'd all be together like this, as if someone collected them from all over the forest."
"That's kind of what I thought, too," she said.
"Hmm," I said, frowning. "Weird."
She shrugged. "I know. It's interesting to look at all the different kinds together, though. This one's my favorite." She picked up a white pearlescent one, so thin you could see through it in spots. "It looks so delicate," she said softly, "and yet it could take down a large animal, or even a man." She smiled a little and then looked at me. I realized I was staring, my eyes soaking in the beautiful lines of her face, the sweep of her long lashes against her cheeks, the way inky tendrils of hair had escaped from her braid and were curling around her jaw. I wanted to keep staring, but I forced myself to look away.
"You said you wanted to show me something you thought I'd like. How'd you know? That I'd like these?"
For the first time since I'd met her, an unsure look passed over her face and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
She let out a soft laugh and shook her head, beginning to stand. "Well, I just figured all men like weapons."
"I do like them," I quickly reassured her, reaching for her arm so she remained kneeling. "I like them. They're amazing. This place is amazing." I think you might be amazing.