I am pausing this week of viruses, fevers, and drips to post a piece from my book. Remember Olivia and how much trouble she gave me? Well, the words did finally wrap around her and pull her into the manuscript but not without a fight.
“That’s Olivia,” Quinn said, following my gaze. The girl stood to meet us, unfolding her pale legs and wiping her hands on her cut-offs. A mess of blonde curls burst from under a red bandana, and she studied me as we crossed the short distance between the grid and the pyramid. I thought her faded tee seemed a little tight for the jungle, and her legs a little long for archaeology.
“Olivia’s our glyph girl,” Quinn continued. “Did you remember the necklace?”
I placed my hand over my heart where the amulet hung, still tucked away under my shirt. “We don’t have to show her. She looks busy.”
“She’s not too busy.”
As we approached, Olivia stepped over the ropes and pegs that divided the grid. “I waited for you this morning,” she said to Quinn. “What took you so long?” Her voice was breathy and British and hinted of the peppermint she cracked between her teeth.
...About a page and a half more words that would not make sense to you out of context, would be way too long a stop for you on the blog highway, and frankly, I'm not sure I like enough to post...
“What are you thinking about?” Quinn asked as we stopped under the shade of the tent.
I hesitated, unwilling to share my real thoughts, and jerked my head towards Olivia. “I don’t think she likes me.”
“How would you know?” Quinn asked. “You barely spoke to each other.”
“It’s girl language,” I said, lowering my voice. “She looked right at me, and said ‘I don’t like you.’”
“Yes, she also said, ‘Hands off. I saw him first.’”
Quinn’s eyebrows knit together for an instant before comprehension lit his face. “You mean…You think she…” His words fell off as he looked at Olivia, who luckily seemed unaware of our discussion as she brushed away at the dirt.
“Yes,” I said, cringing when I saw a smile’s shadow play on his lips. “That makes you happy?”
“That makes me amused, Tess,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “I’m not interested in Olivia. I’m interested in somebody else.”
I hoped the subdued light under the tent masked my blush. “What did you want me to see?”