"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.