Minutes after Rosalind and I walk back into our house, there was a knock at the door. I open it and find Dillon, still looking the same since I saw him earlier; Marcus, with a handful of spears, a knife, and a tattered sack like Dillon’s; and Olivia was there too, wearing the same black pants and old light blue tunic she was on the train.
“Hey Skye, Rosalind,” Olivia chanted, smiling that warm smile of hers.
“Rose,” Rosalind corrected. I couldn’t help but be surprised. She’d always been so timid and hasn’t ever spoken for herself like that. “I like to be called Rose,” she said after she glances around at our surprised faces.
“I hear you,” I say with a smile. Skylar. It means eternal life, strength, love, and beauty. I’d always marvel at the meaning as a child, but as I grew older, I didn’t think the name suited me. My mother was disappointed as the name was of her choosing, but my father just smiled and said, “You’ll always be my Skylar, but now you’re also my Skye, always filled with sunshine.” I could still clearly hear his voice in my head.
A single teardrop makes its way out of the corner of my eye and down my cheek. Dillon reaches his finger out to wipe it away, just as he did on the train. I quickly snap back to reality and invite them inside.
“Okay so Dillon, Marcus, and I will go hunt and Rose and Olivia…” I trail off.
“I was thinking Rose and I could go to the shops or go gather some berries or plants,” Olivia offered.
“Sounds good,” I reply. Rose, Dillon, and Marcus all nod. “Let me just change. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” I go into my room and throw on my brown pants, scattered with grass and berry stains, and my ragged brown shirt, dotted with cloth patches. I pull on my shabby boots that get more comfortable with use. Out of my closet, I grab my bow and a quiver with a dozen arrows. Before leaving my room, I put my mother’s necklace on. I clench the heart that dangles from the chain tightly in my fist and hear her voice in my head.
“Be careful,” she warns.
“I will,” I whisper.
I step out of my room, and then leave the house. The three of us part from Rose and Olivia, and head for the woods.
This was the first time I’d been in the woods in six years. It was also the first time I’d been in the woods without my father at my side. A sigh escapes my mouth which attracts both Dillon’s and Marcus’s attention.
“I’m fine,” I reassure them before they can say anything. They return their attention to the woods. It seems as if nothing has changed. Trees that loomed above us were sprouting leaves and some blooming flowers. Bushes growing an assortment of berries sat on the ground. The occasional flower patch or group of edible plants sprout up from the grass which is still slightly brown from winter. Apparently I was observing my surroundings a little too attentively because the next thing I know, a rabbit rests at my feet, sprawled out with an arrow wedged in its left ear. I look around, hoping whoever shot the rabbit wasn’t aiming for me instead.
“Sorry, couldn’t let that one go,” Dillon says coming up behind me. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” Marcus stands next to him subtly—but still noticeably—scoffing at me for not snagging the game myself. Dillon shoots him a dirty look, but I just think of ways to prove to him I can hunt.
After two hours of hunting, I’d only obtained two squirrels and a raccoon. We’re heading back to the village and all of a sudden, run into Pamela.
“Skye? Is that you?” she asks. I nod. “It’s been so long!” she exclaims. Still unable to find words, I nod again and force a smile. “So…who are they?” she asks pointing at Marcus and Dillon, who are now turning beet red.
“Oh, um, Dillon and Marcus,” I say quietly, motioning to each of them.
“Well hello there, I’m—” Pamela starts coquettishly.
“We have to get going,” I cut her off and we start walking.
“Okay, see you around,” she calls after us. I wasn’t sure if that was directed toward me, or the boys. Dillon becomes aware of the partly pained, partly maddened expression on my face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, stopping.
“Nothing,” I lie through gritted teeth.
“Okay,” he says suspiciously and starts walking again. What’s wrong is I’m not sure which aggravates me more; that Pamela paid so much attention to Marcus and Dillon, or that she paid so little attention to me—despite the fact I hadn’t seen her in six years, and we’d been best friend for four years before that. I’m in no mood to explain this though.
Unlike my beloved forest, I guess some things in Grindelia Village had changed.
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