The following morning I went for my daily run and headed off to school. After fighting traffic on the 405 freeway, then driving in circles on campus looking for a parking spot, I finally got lucky when a student pulled out in the row where I was waiting. The car in front of me missed the spot and couldn’t reverse while the vehicle behind was second to me. I grabbed my backpack from the trunk, swung it over one shoulder, and went straight to the main archaeology lab, located in the social studies building, to work on material that I needed for my master’s thesis. The lab is fun at times, especially when it’s full of eager students, both undergraduates and graduates, flocking together to discuss current research. I had my Shaggy CD playing in the background and was sorting ancient shell midden as Kyle walked into the lab. He was wearing jeans and an untucked blue polo-style shirt. His hair looked like the crest of a crowned crane, with whitish blond hairs sticking up toward the back of his head. Forgot to brush his hair this morning, I thought. Kyle was a smart ass, usually making comments that only a well-read student could understand. Other times he was just sassy and curious.