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ChapterEleven
Olivia sat in the lab classroom, supervising her students as they sorted and labeled their finds and uploaded the data from their field notebooks. Occasionally, someone came to her with a question, but so far, the afternoon lab sessions had been a breeze. As she finished reviewing her notes, she couldn’t dispel the nagging fear she was being too detail oriented. Even after four days of surveying, she was still slowing her team down.
Fighting off a bout of drowsiness, she stood and stretched. If she sat still for much longer, she’d doze off. Not a good look for a TA.
After telling the students she was taking a break, she walked over to the adjoining classroom, which served as Dusty’s illustration studio. Most of the chairs had been pushed against the wall, and the small space was dominated by six long tables displaying a variety of artifacts. Dusty’s table was set up with drawing equipment and measuring tools, as well as a laptop and a tablet for the digital aspects of her job.
Dusty was drawing a large piece of Geometric ware—burnished red pottery decorated with a series of dark, concentric rings. Beside her, Marisol appeared deeply focused, her head bent over her paper as she sketched a stone projectile point.
“Hey, there,” Dusty said. “How goes the survey?”
“We haven’t found much yet,” Olivia said. “None of the teams have, other than churned-up Roman pottery. But it’s going all right.”
Marisol cast a hesitant gaze up at Olivia. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it out there today.”
Olivia tried to imbue her voice with patience. “It’s okay, but you’ll need to join us soon. The survey counts for part of your grade.”
“I want to, but it sounds so daunting.” Marisol blinked rapidly, as though fighting back tears. “You got a nasty rash and a terrible sunburn.”
Wincing at the memory, Olivia glanced at her shins, which still bore traces of the red bumps. “Only on my first day, and I wouldn’t have gotten a sunburn if I’d worn protective clothing.”
“But Brynn said…” Marisol bit her lip.
“What?”
“She…she said our team’s not doing very well. We keep coming in last.”
Olivia struggled to keep her irritation in check. Four days in, and Brynn was still whining as much as ever. “Even if we’ve been slower than the others, it won’t impact your grade.”
“That’s not what Grant—I mean Dr. Nilsson—told us,” Marisol said. “He warned us our grades could suffer if our team couldn’t keep up. He doesn’t want anyone throwing off his schedule.”
Why was he so intent on intimidating the students? “I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow,” Olivia said.
Or not, depending on his mood. Asking Grant for anything when he was riled up was like poking an angry bear.
“I’ll be there tomorrow morning. I promise.” Marisol stood up. “Right now, I need to work on my site presentation. Can you help me after you’re done here? I’ll be in the library.”
“Absolutely,” Olivia said. “I’ll stop by in a bit. Take a break if you need one. There’s water and lemon squash in the kitchen fridge.” She’d never heard of lemon squash before but was slowly developing a taste for the sweet concentrated syrup that made a half-decent lemonade when mixed with water.
After Marisol left, Olivia plunked down on a wooden chair across from Dusty and allowed herself a moment to wallow in self-doubt. “Some teaching assistant I am. Thanks to my incompetence, I’m pissing off Brynn and making Marisol too scared to go on the survey.”
Dusty brushed eraser shavings off her drawing. “Marisol was anxious from the day she got here. Why not let her keep working with me? She’s a good artist.”
“I’d love to, but the survey component makes up a third of her grade.” Olivia picked up the projectile point Marisol had been sketching. “Where’d you get this?”
“Last year’s survey. They found a couple of sites on the last few days but didn’t have time to deal with all the artifacts. They’ll keep me busy until one of you makes a major find.”
“It won’t be me. I’m not exactly crushing it.” Olivia twisted the projectile point between her fingers, still finding it awe-inspiring she was touching a stone tool someone had made thousands of years ago. “How am I supposed to convince Marisol to join the survey if I keep messing up?”
“Rick’s your team leader, right? Could she shadow him for a few days? Walk beside him when he covers his transect? Then he could show her what to look for.”
The solution was so obvious Olivia mentally chastised herself for not coming up with it on her own. “Great idea. I’ll ask him later.”
Dusty grinned. “Besides, who wouldn’t like shadowing Rick? Walking behind him and checking out that ass? Yes, please.”
Olivia’s stomach dropped. She was torn between wanting to know if Rick and Dusty had ever hooked up and wanting to remain oblivious. “Well…thanks. I should probably get going.”
Dusty narrowed her eyes. “You okay? You look kind of annoyed. Is this about Rick? If you want him, then go for it. You won’t have any competition from me.”
