Page 32 of Field Rules

ChapterTen

As exhausted as Olivia was, sleep proved impossible due to the brutal combination of rash and sunburn tormenting her skin. Her shoulders throbbed. Her legs itched with the fury of a thousand mosquito bites. And her churning stomach added to the misery. Whether it was from their dinner at Spyros or her general state of discomfort, she wasn’t certain.

After two agonizing hours, she couldn’t take it any longer. Using her flashlight, she crept over to the sleeping quarters to locate her Benadryl and her bottle of Tums. But as she looked through her pack, she realized she’d forgotten to bring a tube of aloe vera.

Rather than go back to her cot, she walked over to one of the picnic tables and plopped down on the wooden bench. When she turned off her flashlight, the inky darkness enveloped her, making her feel more alone than ever. She wanted to be strong. Resilient. A true badass. But she couldn’t hold back the tears. What started as a few self-pitying whimpers turned into a flood of uncontrollable sobs.

Why had she messed up so badly? No one else had gotten brutally sunburned, attacked by hostile plants, or made their team glaringly late.

How was she going to survive the next few weeks?

She could offer to work with Dusty instead of surveying, but her drawing skills were mediocre at best. Plus, she was supposed to be accompanying the students and helping them. Some help she was. The people on her team would have been better off without her.

As always, when her anxiety got the best of her, her mind spiraled into a series of worst-case scenarios. If she couldn’t hack it on the survey, Grant would report her to Dr. Roth. Then the professor would regret hiring her. He might even send her home early. Forget about getting him on her dissertation committee. If the word of her pitiful failure got out, her name would be mud in the world of classical archaeology.

She was doomed.

At the sound of a brusque voice, she tensed up. Rick.

“I’m not reaching out to Dad again,” he snapped. “If he wants to talk, he can call me himself. I’m sick of trying.” After a pause, he spoke in a gentler tone. “I’m sorry, but I’m sure he’ll be fine. It’s just a biopsy.”

Was he on the phone with his mom? His sister? Either way, his conversation sounded serious. Definitely none of Olivia’s business. If she was quiet, she could sneak back to her cot before he noticed her. Before she could slip away, he ended the call abruptly.

She held her breath, waiting for him to leave, but a tiny sniff gave her away. Stupid tears.

He turned toward her. “Is someone there?”

“It’s me. Olivia.”

“Were you listening to me?” he demanded. “That was a private conversation.”

Her voice wobbled. “I…didn’t mean to.”

“Wait—are you crying? What’s wrong? Where are you?”

She turned her flashlight back on. “Over here. But I’m a huge mess.”

He joined her on the bench and placed a hand on her shoulder. The gentlest of touches, but it made her wince in pain. “Calm down. I’m not upset.”

“It’s not you.” She wiped her eyes, feeling more like six than twenty-six. “Today was awful. I got sunburned, picked up a weird rash, and made our team last. I’m a total failure.”

“You weren’t that bad.”

“I was terrible. Go ahead and hand me over to Grant if you want.” Even as she said it, her apprehension ramped up to an eleven. For all the mistakes she’d made today, Rick hadn’t gotten mad at her. Grant wouldn’t have been as compassionate.

“Nope. I refuse to torture you that way.”

She managed a weak smile. “Thanks. But I don’t understand why I was slower than everyone else. I’ve spent years using archaeological reports in my research. I know the material better than most people. Not that I’m trying to sound like TJ, but—”

“That’s your problem. You’re trying too hard to be perfect.”

“What do you mean?” Aware her voice had risen, she cast an uneasy glance toward the soccer field, hoping she hadn’t woken anyone. An owl hooted in the distance, but otherwise, Camp Kouklia was quiet.

“You’re used to being meticulous in your research. Right?”

“Of course. I want to make sure my evidence backs up my arguments. I don’t just skim over my source materials—I read them carefully and look for inconsistencies.”

“That’s great for library research when you have a lot of time, but when we survey, we’re getting an overview. Is it a perfect technique? No, but the idea is to get the lay of the land. If we find a site, then we’ll dig some test pits to explore it further. But do you remember what Roth told us during the hands-on demonstration? When he showed the students the Roman pottery?”

---