Chapter 4
I walk into the weirdest scene on Wednesday morning. Well, it’s actually around noon because I slept late after staying up with Ella to plan her party. Still, it’s weird to see my sister and my mom both sitting on the couch watching the same TV show. They are very different people. My sister is all about The Walking Dead, Stranger Things, and those dumb girly shows set in high school.
My mom only watches HGTV and workout videos.
Yet here they are, eyes glued to the TV, mouths agape as they watch something together.
“What’s on?” I ask, walking into the living room and turning to face the TV. Surprisingly, it’s just the news. “What happened?” I ask.
“The hurricane,” Mom says, as if that explains everything. I look at Dakota but she’s still focusing on the TV. I take a seat between them and listen to the news anchor.
Apparently the meteorologists who are in charge of predicting the path of the hurricanes were wrong. Now the storm is looking like it’s going to turn southwest and bypass New Orleans completely. I watch as the radar dot moves and repeats itself, the little red line on the screen indicating where they think it’s going to go. There’s a cone on the end of the line that shows all the areas that will be impacted by the hurricane. All the biggest damage is done in the center of it where the storm is the strongest, but as far as three hundred miles out will still get a pretty heavy thunderstorm.
“Wow,” I say, watching with just as much fascination as my mom and sister. “Is it just me or does that look like it’s coming right toward us?”
“It’s not just you,” Mom says.
On the TV, the weatherman points to Houston on the map. “At this point, voluntary evacuations are in progress, especially for people near the coast,” he says.
“That sucks for those people,” I say, getting up and heading into the kitchen to make some cereal.
“Should we be worried?” Dakota asks our mom.
“No,” I say from the kitchen. “We’re two hours north of the coast so we’re fine. Plus, they’re probably wrong again and the thing won’t even come near us.”
“I don’t know…” Mom says. It seems like she wants to go on, but she doesn’t.
I shrug and make a bowl of cereal. Growing up in Texas means I’ve seen a lot of hurricanes. They’re mostly all bark and very little bite, even though there have been a couple semi bad ones in my life. Still, the only time you should worry is when the town calls for a mandatory evacuation. That hasn’t happened since I was a little kid.
After breakfast, I head upstairs to the rec room. I pass Mom, who’s talking to dad on the phone about the hurricane. I hear her tell him he should come home from work early.
In the rec room, I do some cardio on the treadmill and then hit the weight bench, my music blasting as loud as my family will allow it. I get a few good reps in, and I’m feeling somehow stronger than when I was doing football drills every single day in school.
I take off my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face, and catch sight of myself in the mirror on the back of the rec room door. Just to be flirty, I flex and take a picture and send it to Ella.
She calls me a few minutes later.
“Hey, babe,” I say. “There’s more where that came from.”
“Huh?” she says. There’s noise in the background, like maybe she’s outside.
“The picture,” I say.
“What picture?”
“The one I just sent you.”
“Oh, sorry,” she says. “I didn’t check your message before I called.”
My reflection in the mirror turns concerned. “Is everything okay?”
“Have you seen the news about the hurricane?”
“Yep,” I say. “Apparently it’s not even going to hit New Orleans now.” I figure she’s going to complain about how her parents are wasting their time.
“Yeah, now it’s coming to us.”
“I don’t think it’ll be that big of a deal, baby.”
