The Dig Read Online Free

always.‖

    ―Good. Number three: Take your time hiking down. The sand is very malleable and I don‘t want you falling and spraining an ankle.‖

    ―Uncle Alex, I‘m fine.‖

    ―And be sure to drink the water in your pack. I don‘t want you getting dehydrated.‖

    ―I don‘t have water in my pack.‖

    He smirks. I unzip my backpack to find two bottles of water, granola bars and single-serving packs of almonds and macadamia nuts.

    I groan. ―I‘m seventeen years old, Uncle Alex. I love Aunt Sophia but sometimes she treats me like a baby.‖

    He unzips his own backpack, revealing a similar bounty of snacks, ―Me too, kiddo. Now then, off you go.‖

    I‘m not a hugger, but I throw my arms around him. ―Thank you, Uncle Alex.‖

    ―Have fun,‖ he tells me.

    I set off at a quick pace. Nobody can see me so I let myself smile broadly. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. And though I would never admit it, I‘m grateful for my aunt‘s snack attack. I‘m also grateful that Alex and Sophia are the kind of guardians who look the other way.
    They know me. They know I have my iPhone. In fact, it was bulging out of my pocket as I stood there promising I didn‘t have it. They also know that I never saw a piece of red tape I didn‘t want to cross. But they trust me. They know that—

    ―Whoa!‖

    I slip and land flat on my back. The sandbank was steeper than I realized. I lie there a minute and stare at the jarringly blue sky. I can‘t help but grin. Greece is growing on me, with its tricky terrain, its startling color scheme and up there, way to the left, a mountain that looks like something out of one of those mythology cartoon books you get when you‘re a little kid. I can understand how the ancient people were where I am now, flat on their backs, studying the sharp lines of the rock, the impossibly opaque clouds, and believing that gods were up there, ethereal yet tangible all at once.―Greece,‖ I say, even though no one is around to hear me. ―I love you.‖

    ―I love you too.‖

    I hear him before I see him. His voice is husky and close. I bolt upright and scan the area but there‘s no one around. Then a few palm fronds swish forward, confirming that I‘m not alone.

    I brush my hair out of my eyes, looking for him. Any second now, he will appear.

    Whoever he is.

Chapter 4
    Darren has shaggy brown hair and an unruly beard that makes him look older than the Columbia junior archeology major he is. Pulling me up from the sand, he grins and tells me that my aunt sent him to help me with the excavation.

    ―I don‘t need anyone‘s help,‖ I tell him, brushing myself off.

    ―Just because you‘re related to the two greatest working archeologists in the world doesn‘t make you Lara Croft.‖

    ―I know my way around a dig site,‖ I retort. ―I‘ve spent the past six summers doing this.
    I‘ve got more experience than you do.‖ He stops and eyes me. ―You know, you‘re kinda cute when you get defensive.‖

    ―I‘m not being defensive,‖ I hiss, though I can feel the color rush to my cheeks.

    ―There you go again,‖ he says and winks at me.

    I hate Columbia Darren. And not in the way girls hate boys because they like them. When he first said the ―L‖ word, it seemed like one of those magic moments. What a story to tell CeeCee: I have a boyfriend! He‘s older! The first words he ever said to me were ―I love you!‖ But everything he‘s said since then has been semi-obnoxious. I will never fall in love. At least not this summer, anyway.

    I rush off toward the excavation site with Darren following close behind me. I walk as fast as possible without actually breaking into a run.

    ―Hey!‖ he calls out after me. ―Your aunt said you have water.‖

    ―I do,‖ I reply without turning around.

    ―Well I‘m really thirsty.‖

    With a big, annoyed sigh, I reach into my backpack. One of the waters is dented from the fall. Perfect. He takes off his stupid hat,