I thought you’d be here,” calls a rough voice over my left…

““I thought you’d be here,” calls a rough voice over my left shoulder. I turn to find Darren only inches away, holding an unlit candle. “Hey,” I say with a smile much too large. “I was wondering if I’d see you today.” “Tate and I have been busy getting everything organized for our trip.” He returns a smile. Something looks different…something with his hair. I hold my candle higher and lean toward him, both to get a better look and to whisper, “Are you wearing a headband?” His hand shoots to the black band of fabric pulled tight above his forehead, curls redirected up and over it. “I was sort of hoping you wouldn’t notice it in the dark. I usually only wear them on dig sites to keep my hair from flying in my face.” “At least it’s not pink,” I tease. “Although I’m sure I have one of those you could borrow. It may even have flowers on it.” “Oh, could I, please?” He laughs, his hand still fiddling with it. “Seriously, should I lose it?” I shrug. “It’s practical. I get it.” He yanks it off and shoves it into the pocket of his shorts. A shake of his head lands everything where it belongs. “Here,” I say, angling my candle toward him. “I already took care of the headband. Fire really isn’t necessary, is it?””

— Kristin Rae