Page 24 of Seeds of Christmas
She’s lying. We both know it.
“Rhi—”
“We should get to the next site.” She’s already moving, adjusting her pack straps. “We’re behind schedule.”
“Hang on.” I catch her arm, and she stops, surprised. “I need you to be honest with me. What’s at stake here? For you?”
She looks at me for a long moment, like she’s deciding whether I’m worth the explanation.
“This data,” she says finally, “is going into a paper. A paper I’m co-authoring with Professor Bam. As an undergrad. Do you know how rare that is?”
I shake my head.
“It’s the kind of thing that gets you into any grad school you want. The kind of thing that opens doors. I want to be a volcanologist. I want to work at an observatory, monitor eruption patterns, do hazard assessment for communities near active volcanoes. This paper is my ticket to that future.” She’s talking faster now, like the words have been building up. “I’vespent two years on this project. Weekends in the field. Nights running data analysis. I’ve given up holidays, dates, sleep. I’ve hiked these sites in thunderstorms and whiteouts. I’ve recalibrated faulty sensors at 3 AM. I’ve read every paper on hydrothermal systems I could find. And now?—”
She stops, like she’s said too much.
“And now I show up,” I finish quietly. “Some guy who couldn’t be bothered to attend class. Who’s only here because he needs a last-minute save. Who doesn’t know a thermocouple from a hole in the ground.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” I run a hand through my hair. “Look, I get it. I do. You’ve earned this, and I’m just... extra baggage. Field support. The guy who carries equipment and tries not to break anything.”
“Carter—”
“But look, listen to me.” I meet her eyes. “I’m not going to mess this up for you. I know I don’t deserve to be here. I know I haven’t put in the work you have. But I’m going to learn. I’m going to pay attention. I’m going to follow every protocol exactly. And if I don’t understand something, I’m going to ask instead of pretending I know.”
She’s watching me carefully, like she’s trying to decide if I mean it. I surprise myself because I actually do. I don’t want to screw this up for her.
“I need this trip to pass Bam’s class,” I continue. “If I fail, I’m out of school. But that’s my problem, not yours. Your paper, your authorship, your future—that’s what matters here. So I’m not going to coast. I’m not going to charm my way through this. I’m going to actually show up.Reallyshow up.”
She pauses.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.” She nods, and something in her expression softens slightly. “But if you fry a three-thousand-dollar sensor, I’m leaving you in the woods.”
“Fair.”
She almost smiles. “And you have to stop making lava demon jokes.”
“Absolutely not. The lava demons are my best material.”
This time, she does smile.
“Come on,” she says, starting down the trail. “Next site. And Carter?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For... for listening. I’m not really used to—” She stops, shakes her head. “Never mind. Let’s just get the data.”
And suddenly, I want to know everything about Rhiannon Pierce. Not just why she likes volcanoes.
But why she’s so surprised when someone listens.
7
