Midnight Lily

  "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.

  She had offered me one of the only things she probably had to offer. I didn't know a lot about this girl . . . yet. But she must live a simple life. The things she had to give were . . . here. And she'd given one to me.

  For an instant, our eyes met in the dim, golden-hued light of the night. Lily stood and I followed her up, feeling confused and lost for some reason I couldn't comprehend. Lily reached out and took my wrist and put the white arrowhead she'd said was her favorite into my hand and closed my fingers around it. Her skin was warm and I could feel very light calluses on her palms. I wondered what they'd feel like against my lips.

  "I suppose it's not actually mine to give, but I don't think anyone will mind if you keep it."

  "Thank you." I slipped it into the pocket of my jeans, feeling as if I'd received something precious. "Here," I said, picking up a small, sharp rock and returning to a portion of the cliff wall a few steps away from the strange little windowed-cave. I used it to draw two stick figures, one with a triangle skirt. "Long after we're gone, this will still be here. And maybe someday someone will come upon it and wonder who these figures were. We'll live on forever."

  "Except you probably just defaced an historic archeological find."

  I blinked at her and her lip quirked up. "You're teasing me," I said.

  She laughed. "Mostly. Come on." I looked back once at the carving of the hands and then followed her, laughing softly.

  We ascended the crude steps and started walking through the open, rocky area toward the more dense forest. I walked close to Lily, brushing against her arm on purpose. Each time I did it, it felt as if a thousand nerve endings came alive on the patch of skin that touched hers. She didn't speak and I wondered if she felt it, too. I felt fifteen again. I felt like I'd just discovered there was still something innocent about me, something pure and untouched, despite my past. I hadn't known that a girl could still make my heart race and my mouth go dry. Especially one I'd just met. More so, one who wasn't scantily dressed and trying to get into my pants. No false platitudes, no rambling, self-centered prattle. Just . . . calm. Still. It was as if my soul yearned to meet with hers, to understand all of her, to know every detail of her life.

  She glanced over at me, perhaps thinking something similar because she asked, "So, Holden, what are you doing out here?" Referring to the lodge in the middle of nowhere, I assumed.

  I sighed. I hardly wanted to get into that. "I'd tell you all about it, Lily, but I'm afraid you wouldn't respect me anymore."

  "What gave you the idea I respected you?"

  My own surprised laughter rang through the trees. "Everyone respects me. I'm a superhero. A god among men."

  "Hmm," she hummed, sounding unimpressed. "So what's your superpower?"

  I scratched at my neck as I stepped over a tree root, taking a moment to think about it. What was my superpower? Everyone else would say being a football player. But that wasn't really a superpower. That was something I'd worked my ass off at practically my whole life. I was naturally gifted, sure, but I'd still had to put the hours in. Plus, I didn't necessarily want to tell Lily about that right now. "I can fly," I said, grinning at her.

  She looked over at me. "Oh really? What a coincidence. So can I." I laughed softly, and we walked for a moment. I was having trouble concentrating because her arm kept brushing mine and every now and again, I caught her scent, something fresh wi
th the very faint undertone of wildflowers.

  "Where do you fly, Lily?"

  She stopped walking and turned toward me. "Anywhere I want. Sometimes I go to a crowded city, and other times, a deserted island. Once I went to Jupiter."

  "Jupiter? I've never been. What was it like?"

  She hugged her arms around her body. "Cold."

  I laughed, and then regarded her, feeling suddenly serious, my smile faltering. "Do you think we could figure out a way to fly together?" I gave her a teasing smile, but she didn't smile back.

  She tilted her head, her expression becoming thoughtful, almost tender, "I suppose anything's possible."

  "Where do you land?" I whispered. She regarded me quizzically. "I just mean, flying is only good if you have a place to land where someone else is waiting for you." Where had that come from? I didn't know, and yet the truth of my own statement hit me in my gut. Who was waiting for me?

  She was silent for several heartbeats, something moving behind her eyes that I couldn't read. Her mouth opened and then closed again, her brow creasing slightly, as if the answer had skated through her mind, and then moved just out of reach. "Do you always think so much, Holden Scott?" she finally asked, giving a barely perceptible shake of her head as she started walking. I shook my head slightly, too, shaking off the strange moment. Did I always think so much? Yes, I supposed I did. Always had. I jogged a few steps to catch up to her.

  "I think I do. Yes." We walked out of the trees, into a more open area.

  Lily laughed softly, looking up at the sky. I followed her gaze. "I've never seen so many stars," I said. "They're so clear."

  "I'll show you the best place to see them. And then I'll walk you back. It's getting late."

  "It's not that late," I said, not ready for my time with her to end. "You could come back with me and hang out for a little while," I suggested, but Lily shook her head.

  "No, not tonight."

  Not tonight. But that meant maybe another night. I'd hold on to that. I barely know you, Lily, but I already like you. And somehow, I feel like I need you.

  The forest felt alive all around us: movement in the brush, soft scampering on the ground close by, wings flapping softly in the trees. Maybe I had tuned it all out when I'd been here alone not wanting to consider what was making those noises. But suddenly, with Lily at my side, I felt no anxiety. She obviously knew this place well. If she wasn't nervous, neither was I.

  We came to a rock formation, and I followed her as she began climbing it. At the top there was a large, flat rock and she dropped down and lay back, gazing up at the stars. I lay down next to her and looked up. The sky was glittering and sparkling above and it took my breath for a moment. It didn’t feel like I was looking up at it, but like I was part of it, like I was floating amongst it. It was as if we had stepped off some magical cliff and tumbled straight into the sky.

  "I feel like this whole night is a dream," I said. "I feel like I'll wake up in San Francisco after having fallen asleep for a minute and realize I dreamed this entire thing. Dreamed you." I turned my head and found that Lily was already looking at me, watching me as I watched the sky.

  She smiled and propped herself up on one elbow. "San Francisco? Is that where you live?"

  I came up on one elbow, too, and faced her. "Yeah." I almost told her that I played football for the 49ers, but it was as if here, in this forest, that life didn't exist. I wanted to leave that Holden behind, just for now and continue as we'd started, sharing things we chose to share, but not everything, not now. Here, I didn't want to be . . . him. I just wanted to be me.

  I suddenly realized I didn't want to explain my life to her. I looked away, embarrassment at my own situation assaulting me. I'd never had to explain it to anyone. The vast majority of the world already knew. Saying it out loud, choosing the words, would mean taking ownership of it somehow, and that's what made me hesitate. If I told my story out loud, and if I told it truthfully, I would be forced to claim it. Until now, there had never been reason to do that.

  Maybe that was it, this strange removal from my own life. Ever since I'd been drafted and become part of the tabloid fodder, I'd begun feeling like I belonged to the world. I'd started looking to the opinions and judgments of the general public as the narrative of my own existence. It was dissatisfying and arduous, and because of it, I'd spent the last three years never feeling truly known by anyone, maybe even myself. Of course, I hadn't helped my situation with my choices—everything I did these days practically guaranteed judgment and condemnation and was talked about in big, bold headlines. It was . . . lonely.

  But I didn't want to think about all that now. I didn't want to see an expression of disappointment and disdain on Lily's beautiful face. I didn't want this girl to know what a mess I was. I wanted to leave that behind and enjoy the one simple moment of peace I'd had in years.

  Lily's eyes had been moving over my face as if trying to read my thoughts through my expression. I turned, looking momentarily back up at the clear starlit sky. "How old are you, Lily? Have you lived here all your life?"

  She paused for a moment and then said, "Nineteen, almost twenty, and yes, I've lived in Colorado all my life. I grew up near Telluride."

  Nineteen. That was young, and she seemed very innocent . . . yet somehow very wise, too. I was six years older than her. But in that moment it didn't seem to make any difference at all.

  I smiled, my eyes moving over her beautiful features again and lingering on her full lips for a moment. I wondered if they'd be as warm as the rest of her, or if they'd feel cool against my own. "Tell me something about your past," she murmured. Tit for tat. I searched my mind for something to give her about my own childhood.

  "I was a Boy Scout. I earned all kinds of awards, actually. I was the pride of troop one sixty-one." Confusion made my head throb for a moment. Yes, yes I had been a Boy Scout. I'd forgotten that.

  Lily laughed, falling back, and bringing me back to the moment. "I'll build a rock shrine in your honor once you leave these woods."

  I laughed. "If I leave these woods. I've obviously required some assistance in the recent past."

  "Your secret is safe with me. Troop one sixty-one will never be the wiser." She leaned up again and grinned over at me, and my heart picked up speed.

  "Did you like it? Being a Boy Scout?"

  I tried to remember, but my memory was so foggy these days. I had such a hard time grasping specific events. But I could . . . feel it. Being a Boy Scout. I closed my eyes for a moment. Yes, yes I'd liked it very much. "Yes," I answered finally.

  "What else? What else do you like?"

  A lock of hair fell over my eye, and Lily brought her hand up and brushed it away and then froze as if she'd caught herself doing something she hadn't meant to do. She blinked as her eyes met mine. "I'm sorry," she said, pulling her hand back.

  I reached out and took her hand in mine, swallowing. "No, please, that felt nice. I don't mind if you touch my hair." Truthfully, I wanted her to touch me anywhere and everywhere. I wanted to feel the warm touch of her fingers on my skin, I wanted her to move closer and lie beside me so I could feel the length of her body next to my own. This moment suddenly seemed more intimate than any I'd ever experienced before, and we hadn't even removed one item of clothing. We hadn't even kissed.

  Lily brought her hand tentatively back to my hair and wove her fingers into it. I moaned and lay back, closing my eyes. God, it felt good. It'd been so long since someone just . . . touched me. Forever . . . She continued to thread her fingers through it with obvious curiosity as if she'd never touched a man's hair before. Was it possible she hadn't?

  Feeling relaxed and half in a trance, I said, "I like sports, especially football, Star Wars, and jazz music. Not together, necessarily." I quirked my lip up and raised one brow before closing my eyes again. "And I like the old jazz, you know, like Miles Davis or Coltrane." Lily's hands kept moving in my hair, causing me to sigh.

  "What else?" she whispered.

/>   "I like, uh, comic books . . . I like museums, fireworks . . . travel. I like breakfast for dinner, and . . . movie theaters. I like movie theaters. And I especially like going when there's no one else in the theater but me." I felt like I could fall asleep. "I like Tuesdays."

  "Why Tuesdays?"

  "Because no one else likes Tuesdays. I get it all to myself. Tuesday is all mine."

  I somehow heard Lily's lips move into a smile, but didn't open my eyes.

  "And snowstorms. I love winter and snowstorms." I paused. "Why do I feel like I'm writing a personal ad?"

  Lily laughed softly, her fingernails raking lightly across my scalp. I was half asleep and half turned on, and it felt so damned good. "What about you? What do you like, Lily?" I felt like my voice might be slurring a little.

  "Hmm," she said, pausing for a moment. "I like to read. And I like history."

  "What else?"

  She paused again. "I don't know." She sounded sad.

  I opened my eyes half-mast and gazed at her sleepily. "What kind of music do you like?"

  She tilted her head, watching her hand in my hair. "My mom used to play these love songs from the forties. I haven't heard them in a long time, but I used to love them."

  "What did you mean yesterday when you said you thought you might be a ghost?" I asked, my eyes falling closed once again as I enjoyed the delicious feeling of her warm hand running through my hair and across my scalp. I resisted the urge to moan out loud, thinking any sound like that might scare her away and stop her from touching me.

  She was quiet for a long moment, and I got lost in the comfort of being touched gently. Nothing in my recent past had felt gentle. And that's what Lily was: gentle and pure. Being with her made me starkly aware of how harsh and dirty my own life felt. "I just mean that sometimes I don't feel like I'm part of the world. I don't feel like my life is . . . real," she finally answered softly.