Partners
1082 Words
Bethany
“I think your grandfather was hiding something.”
The words echoed in my head long after Anthony said them.
I stared at him.
Then at the photograph.
Then back at him.
“No.”
Anthony frowned.
“No?”
“My grandfather wasn’t hiding anything.”
At least, that’s what I wanted to believe.
My grandfather had been the person who inspired my love of archaeology. He had taught me how to identify fossils, read excavation maps, and appreciate the stories buried beneath the earth.
He was a good man.
A brilliant man.
The idea that he had secrets made me uncomfortable.
Anthony slid the photograph back into the folder.
“Forget I said anything.”
“Gladly.”
But the truth was I couldn’t.
Not entirely.
Because for a brief second, I had recognized that symbol too.
I just wasn’t ready to admit it.
The silence between us grew awkward.
Finally, I stood and shoved my notebook into my backpack.
“We should focus on the project.”
Anthony nodded.
“Probably.”
“Definitely.”
He smiled slightly.
I hated that smile.
Not because it was arrogant.
Actually, it was the opposite.
It was warm.
Genuine.
The kind of smile that made it difficult to remember why I disliked him.
Which was becoming a problem.
A very big problem.
⸻
The following week was worse.
Because Anthony Walker apparently decided to become a permanent part of my life.
Every day we met to work on our research project.
Every day he sat across from me in the library.
Every day he asked intelligent questions.
Every day he challenged my ideas.
And every day I found myself looking forward to our meetings.
Which was horrifying.
Completely horrifying.
I blamed the project.
That had to be it.
There was no other explanation.
None.
Absolutely none.
“You’re staring.”
I blinked.
Anthony raised an eyebrow from across the table.
My face immediately heated.
“I was not.”
“You were.”
“I was thinking.”
“About me?”
I nearly choked on my coffee.
Anthony laughed.
Actually laughed.
The sound sent a ridiculous flutter through my chest.
I ignored it.
Immediately.
“You think highly of yourself.”
His grin widened.
“I’ve been told that.”
There he was.
The cocky football player.
Finally.
A version of Anthony I recognized.
Oddly enough, the realization disappointed me.
Which made absolutely no sense.
“What’s that look for?” Anthony asked.
“What look?”
“The one where you’re judging me.”
“I judge you constantly.”
His laughter filled the library.
Several students glanced our way.
I quickly looked down at my notes.
Unfortunately, that only made him laugh harder.
⸻
A few days later, our professor assigned fieldwork.
The announcement should have excited me.
Instead, it filled me with dread.
Because fieldwork meant travel.
And travel meant spending even more time with Anthony.
“This weekend,” Professor Ramirez announced, “you’ll visit the excavation site near Monterey.”
Excited murmurs spread through the classroom.
My stomach dropped.
Anthony glanced over.
The amusement in his eyes told me exactly what he was thinking.
Three days together.
I wanted to disappear.
⸻
Saturday arrived much too quickly.
The university bus pulled away from campus shortly after sunrise.
I chose a seat by the window.
Naturally, Anthony ended up sitting beside me.
Of course he did.
Of course.
The universe clearly hated me.
The ride started quietly.
I spent most of it pretending to read.
Anthony spent most of it pretending not to notice I was pretending.
Eventually he sighed.
“You know I don’t bite, right?”
I kept my eyes on the book.
“That’s debatable.”
“I deserved that.”
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then—
“You know, when I first saw you again, I thought you’d throw something at me.”
That got my attention.
I looked at him.
“You were worried I’d throw something?”
“A little.”
I considered it.
Then nodded.
“Reasonable.”
Anthony laughed.
The sound made me smile before I could stop myself.
His eyes widened.
“Was that a smile?”
My smile disappeared instantly.
“No.”
“It was definitely a smile.”
“You imagined it.”
“I have witnesses.”
“There are no witnesses.”
Anthony looked far too pleased with himself.
And somehow, despite every reason not to, I felt myself relaxing.
Just a little.
Only a little.
The problem was that spending time with Anthony was becoming easy.
Dangerously easy.
And easy was exactly what I didn’t want.
Because easy led to trust.
And trust led to disappointment.
I knew that better than anyone.
⸻
By the time we arrived at the excavation site, the sun was high overhead.
The location was beautiful.
Rolling hills stretched toward the horizon.
Ancient stone foundations poked through the earth.
History surrounded us.
Immediately, excitement pushed everything else aside.
This was what I loved.
This was why I chose archaeology.
For several hours, students worked alongside researchers, documenting artifacts and cataloging discoveries.
I was completely absorbed.
Until I heard my name.
“Bethany.”
I looked up.
Anthony stood nearby.
For some reason, his expression had changed.
The teasing was gone.
The amusement was gone.
Concern remained.
“What?”
He pointed toward a shallow trench several yards away.
My pulse quickened.
“There’s something you need to see.”
I followed him.
The closer we got, the more nervous he seemed.
Which immediately made me nervous.
“What is it?”
Anthony stopped beside the trench.
Several researchers stood nearby.
Their expressions were serious.
Confused.
One of them stepped aside.
And suddenly I could see what everyone was staring at.
My breath caught.
Because buried beneath layers of dirt was a small metal object.
A necklace.
Old.
Weathered.
Partially covered in soil.
Yet I recognized it instantly.
I knew every detail.
Every curve.
Every engraving.
Because I had seen photographs of it my entire life.
The necklace belonged to my grandfather.
The necklace that had supposedly been lost decades ago.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
No.
That was impossible.
Absolutely impossible.
Slowly, I looked up at Anthony.
His eyes met mine.
Neither of us spoke.
Because we were both thinking the same thing.
How had my grandfather’s necklace ended up buried here?
And why did it feel like this discovery was only the beginning?
- Writer
