Page 14 of Glove to Hate You

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I hold him in my glare, the harsh disinfectant odor still clinging to my gloves. By now, the kids have drifted back to their game, kicking up a swirl of red dust as they scramble after the ball. Archie’s apology hangs in the air, but I’m not done.

“Well,” I say, voice low. “We can be sure of one thing, then. All that money can’t buy you a brain—or decency.”

He flinches, mouth opening as if to retort, but the words die on his tongue.

I turn on my heel and walk away, the crunch of gravel sharp under my boots as I leave him standing there.

Archie

Okay, I really screwed up this time. Totally forgot to check the duty board. When we finished our work at the school, the kids begged me to play, and everything else slipped my mind.

Still, her words were harsh.She’sthe brainless one if she can’t put two and two together. I am here, aren’t I? Do I really deserve that indecency when I give up the little holiday time I have to help people? I sigh, grabbing my phone from my bedside table to check my messages. It doesn’t matter what she thinks. The woman touches spiders. There’s something wrong with her, for sure.

When I notice five missed calls from my mum, my heart rate spikes. She never tries calling more than twice unless it’s serious.

I hit redial, my heart pounding, but the screen goes black after the third dial tone.

I jog back toward camp, dust kicking up under my trainers. When I reach the common room, it’s dim and mostly empty. Two volunteers are perched on the edge of the couch playing cards, and an older man in a wide-brimmed hat is napping upright in one of the rickety plastic chairs, mouth hanging open, arms crossed.

There are only three working electrical sockets in the whole room, all clustered along one wall beneath a dusty fan. I crouch before the first one—nothing. The plug is loose, hanging half out. I try the second. Same deal. There’s a blinking red light on the adapter, but no power.

The third one is taken by a tablet that I’m pretty sure belongs to Katherine. I’ve seen her take notes on it.

I glance around. The room is still half-empty. No sign of her.

I know she won’t need her tablet until tomorrow anyway, so I carefully unplug it, wrapping the cord loosely beside it. I slot my phone in, waiting for the reassuring buzz of life. It starts charging immediately.

Leaning over the counter, I brace my arms on either side of the outlet, willing the screen to light up. One percent. Come on, come on.

“Did you seriously just unplug a diagnostic device to play Candy Crush?” a familiar voice cuts through the low hum of the fan behind me.

I turn my head, and there she is—Katherine. Arms folded tight, eyebrows raised, her messy braid falling over one shoulder.

“Sure,” I say, straightening. “Let’s go with ‘diagnostic device.’ Angry Birds, level 203.”

Yeah, she can’t fool me. I saw her at dinner yesterday. At first, I thought she was taking notes again, but I happened to peer over her shoulder while helping myself to more potatoes.

A pink flush creeps up her neck before she recovers. “Excuse me for having a brain cell left to unwind after twelve hours in the field.”

“Oh, becauseI don’t?” I say, narrowing my eyes. “No, that’s right—I forgot. I don’t have a brain.”

She opens her mouth, probably ready to throw something cutting back at me. But before she can, Heidi steps forward, a water bottle tucked under one arm.

“Archie,” she says. “My phone’s fully charged if you need to make a call.”

“Thank you.” I glance back at Katherine, who’s rolling her eyes. “It’s nice to have someone who cares. Deeply appreciate it, Heidi.”

I take the phone she’s offering, flashing her a grateful smile, and step out into the muggy evening. Pressing the phone to my ear, I pace toward the shade of the nearest tree.

“Hi, Mum,” I say as soon as she picks up.

“Oh, there he is. How are you, my boy?”

“Mum!” I scold. “I thought something had happened. Why did you call so many times?”

“Oh, everything’s fine. I just wanted some news. You haven’t sent a single picture since you landed.”

“I’ll send some later,” I promise, rubbing a hand over my face. “What’s up?”