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 with 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."