In the moment, May. In the moment.But my ribs feel like they’re closing in on my lungs, and every breath is shallower than the last. The wind whips up around us, creating a tinny whistle when it cuts through the bleachers. ‘COLT!’
‘Hey! Hey, May, come on!’
‘Colt!’ I see the top of his head first, his brown-blond hair, and then the bewilderment in his eyes, as frightened as I feel right now. Colt, as much as he grew up here, hasn’t witnessed a twister in years. I squeeze past a throng of fans, reaching a hand out and grabbing onto his as soon as I’m within reach. His palm is as clammy as mine. He wraps an arm around me. ‘Come on, let’s go,’ he says, his chest heaving against my back with every word as he shields me from the push and shove of the influx of people trying to pile into the tunnels.
‘We won’t fit,’ I manage, voice breaking.In the moment. I try centring myself, imagining a cord around my waist tying me to the ground, channelling all my energy into my therapist’s advice, but it’s not working. The shouts of people around us, the body heat emanating from the crowd, it’s too much all at once.
And then the barrage.
The rain comes in a pounding sheet of water, washing over the stadium in a windy rush of moisture that slaps you square in the face. It takes maybe a minute before we’re soaked to the bone, even in the tunnel, owing to the openings on either side.
‘I got you.’ Colt rubs my back with one hand and holds me to him with the other, steering us to the right, into somewhat dry territory, and then down the set of stairs that leads to the basement. It feels like some kind of dystopia, what with the crammed staircase, the death march of people shuffling into the makeshift shelter.
Chester is just about the worst spot to wait out a storm. We may be D1, but our field is ancient, its shelter meant for crowds half the size of what we typically get – and a quarter of the size of what we’ve been getting as of late. We are shoulder to shoulder in the basement, cramped around piles of old lacrosse equipment.
My entire body shudders. I’m scared. And normally, I’d pull myself together, but now that I’m afforded someone who doesn’t expect that of me, in the way the rest of the world does, I don’t bother hiding my fear.
The tears freely trickle down my cheeks, and I bury my face into Colt’s shoulder, holding fast to his strong body. The rest of the crowd knows the drill, the Oklahoman procedure of looking for something that’s anchored to the earth. That’s what they’ll try their darnedest not to let go of, but for reasons I know I’llnever understand, I refuse to let go of Colt, as if he has roots that reach right down to the core of the planet.
‘I’m not scared of storms,’ I murmur. Got to salvage some dignity while I have the chance.
‘I know,’ Colt replies. He smooths my hair down, brushing errant curls from my face, and I swear I hear him say, ‘That’s why I fell for you.’ Or maybe it’s the whistle of the wind. Or the pounding of the rain and the crack of the thunder. I could have heard anything.
But I chose to hear that.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Oblivion
Colt
We hunker down in the dingy basement for half an hour, but it feels longer. By the time the roaring wind dies down, and the distant voice of the announcer says the storm has passed over and it’s safe to come out, everyone’s rattled, quiet, and exhausted. Murmurs fall on the crowd as we start the ascent up the stairs, back to the stadium.
May looks ashamed when she removes her arms from around me, wrapping them around herself instead. She looks a lot smaller than I ever remember her being. She’d probably hate me for thinking it. ‘Sorry,’ she says as we climb the steps.
‘Don’t be,’ I reply immediately, maybe a little too quickly.
She seems taken aback, but nods, swallowing hard. There’s not really much to say. The damp spots on the shoulder of my hoodie are evidence of May’s tears, of the crack in her façadethat she allowed me to see through. And that moment, as much as I could try to convince myself, that moment was definitely not fake. Fake doesn’t hang onto one another like the world is coming to an end.
The light splinters in through the tunnel, as if it’s the entrance to heaven or something equally magical, but what we see when we get a view of the field is vastly different. It doesn’t look like we were in the tornado’s path. That’s not saying much, though. There are various leaves and branches all in the bleachers, and the backpacks that were left behind on the sidelines have been tossed every which way, some missing completely. Water and beer bottles alike are strewn across the grass. The scoreboard blinks unhappily, flickering every few moments.
‘This isn’t the worst of it,’ Jordan says to May beside me. ‘Where did that fucker go, then, if not here?’
‘I don’t know.’ May exhales wearily. ‘But the damage here …’
Jordan taps at her phone, raising it in a feeble attempt to get bars. I catch a glimpse of the weather app on the screen. She squints at the reports. ‘Looks like we’re clear. And …’
She stops abruptly and lowers the phone slowly. Her eyes are wide with a hint of pity, as the rest of the girls assemble around us, stragglers coming from the crowd, drawn by the tension among their teammates.
‘May.’ Jordan regards her best friend with pursed lips, and May doesn’t seem to need explanation. She presses a fisted hand to her mouth. That same fear I saw on her face in the basement, the absolute terror, starts to creep back. That’s how I realize that the state of the field we’re looking at right now is just the beginning.
‘We,’ May finally chokes out, ‘need to go home.’
Jordan pockets her phone and looks to me. ‘Do you still have your car keys?’
This drive to Eagle Rock is nothing like the first. Everywhere we look, signs have been blown to the ground, front-yard trinkets lie scattered and broken, plants have been uprooted. When we hit the town itself, it becomes evident that Prosperity was fortunate.
I remember well enough that tornados leave giant gashes in the ground when they plough through, quite literally, and the gash starts to show right away. The Eagle Rock sign is split in two, and from there a massive wound cuts through the earth, raking its way through houses, shops, and storefronts that are carved open so wide you can see the bones of the structures. The church is completely destroyed, and part of its spire lies across the street.
