Whirlwind

12. Finley

Chapter twelve

Finley

Ryker’s help just now and Joey’s words of praise only do so much to quell the nervous feeling in my stomach.

While it felt nice to have the comfort of my professor’s words, making things more normal between us like they were before yesterday, the weight of my new camera hangs heavy around my neck. Since he gave it to me, my brain hasn’t stopped spinning an endless spiral. It’s coming across as nervousness over the chase alone—which is partially true; there is a natural nervousness to being here, living out a longtime dream of mine—but that’s not all it is.

I’m questioning everything about why I’m here and even how well I’ve done in Ryker’s classes this last year, wondering if my grades were influenced by our blurred-line relationship. Did Ryker only ask me on this chase because he’s attracted to me? I didn’t exactly question it before, but now, it’s all I can think about. Especially with his gift hanging around my neck.

God, he wouldn’t do that, would he?

I grit my teeth, wishing I would’ve stopped myself from crossing that line yesterday, truly understanding Ryker’s regret in a way I didn’t allow myself to think about before because I was hurt and angry.

Had he swept me up into his arms afterward and said he wanted to be with me like we’re in some fairytale, what would that have looked like? Would he be touching me around the guys? Told them we were seeing each other? What would the team think of me then? I hate that I’m thinking about this—if I was a man, I don’t think I would be.

I turn my head to gaze out the window in an attempt to collect myself as Ryker speeds toward the storm. As I stare at the supercell, the dark clouds rotating in the distance, I think of all the hard work and sacrifice it’s taken for me to be here. The long hours working shitty jobs and late nights chasing storms to take photos so I could not only pay for school but simply pay to exist.

I can hear Jake telling me to “quit spiraling and know my worth,” but no matter what I say to myself, I can’t stop the nagging feeling that maybe this has all been a lie. That I’ve ruined everything by letting my ovaries fog my brain with stupid hormones and feelings.

“You okay, Fin-Fin?” Joey asks, his toothy grin from the thrill of the chase now fading.

I force a smile, feeling the weight of Ryker’s gaze as his eyes flick between the road and the storm. I need to get it together and prove to myself and this team that I deserve to be here—not that the guys have given me any reason to think that I need to prove myself.

They did listen to me twice now and asked for my opinions. I can’t let that change. I need to let go of what happened between me and Ryker and be a fully functioning member of the team like I told myself I’d be this morning.

“Yeah, great.”

I must not be convincing because Joey doesn’t let up. “Do you get car sick?” He pops his arm through the seats like he kept doing on the drive down here then places his hand on my forehead as if being carsick would give me a fever. “T-Daddy does drive like a maniac.”

I push his hand away and shake my head. “No, I’m fine.”

“Ms. Buckley, if this is too much after yesterday, please let me know,” Ryker says .

A minute ago, he was acting like my professor, helping me with soft direction until I decided what route we should take, but this statement upsets me. I hate not only the tone he used but everything about it as well. His words make me feel as if I can’t handle being here, as if I’m weak. I also hate that he’s saying it in front of Joey. It’s embarrassing, and I’m glad Hawk is no longer on the phone to hear it.

I turn my focus to my idiot professor, leveling him with my best glare. Even with access to only his profile, I can see his forehead is pinched and his hands have a death-grip on the wheel like he did for almost the entire drive to Oklahoma.

“Is it too much for you, Professor West ?” I fire back.

“ Ooooh ,” Joey says under his breath. Then I think he mutters something to the effect of don’t piss off the Shark, but I’m too annoyed right now to know for sure.

“It would make sense for you to be nervous after what happened. Yesterday was intense,” Ryker adds, ignoring my question.

If Joey wasn’t in the car, I’d probably ask him if he meant the storm or his dick buried in his student’s pussy, but that wouldn’t help either of our situations—or my raging thoughts of inadequacy. I’m also highly aware that the dash camera is recording. I send a quick prayer in thanks that this isn’t being broadcasted live to his one-million followers.

“I’m not nervous.” At least not about the storm.

“It’s okay if you are,” Ryker prods.

My hands grip the edge of the laptop I’m holding, and I swallow down the frustrated noise that’s building in my throat. I wonder: If Joey was the one trapped in the storm with him yesterday, would he be this concerned? Or would they be talking about how it was the coolest thing that’s ever happened to them?

I look back down at the radar to ease the frustration that’s now simmering toward anger. I hate that Ryker, my biggest cheerleader and mentor, is part of the reason I’m even questioning myself—and his reasons for picking me to be here, for that matter. If we get the chance to be alone, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind and tell him to start acting normal.

“I’m good, I promise.” My voice manages to come out level, and I even smile at Joey before pointing ahead. “Take this dirt road here, then we should hit a paved road.”

Ryker doesn’t push the subject further— thank god —he just turns the wheel as Joey rubs his hands together, finally placated. “This has gotta be the storm. I feel it in my knees,” he says.

A laugh bursts out of me, and I’m grateful for the release. “Your knees?”

“Yeah. My joints start aching when a good one is coming.” Joey waggles his eyebrows in a flirty way, and I’m once again glad he’s here. He always knows how to ease tension and make things light, a trait I once attributed to Ryker. Had we not had sex, I think he’d be acting like the man on his live chases or during class instead of this stick-up-his-ass version of himself.

I’ve seen small glimpses of his true self, like when he grinned at Joey over Thor and the superhero reference or when he hugged Ezra and Hawk after we arrived. Even that comment a moment ago that helped me through my nerves. But mostly he’s been, well…this downgraded version of himself.

“Hey!” Ryker yells, surprising both me and Joey. “Look at that ripper—it’s a funnel cloud for sure, there in the center. Do you both see it?”

I lean forward in my seat, and rain starts to hit the windshield as I look out. My heart thumps faster, and I rein in my sour emotions—I’m going to stay focused on what matters.

“I see it,” I say.

“Me, too,” Joey adds. “I think it’s getting ready to go berserk.”

“Holy shit.” Ryker’s voice changes to awe, sounding more like his Twister Tamer persona. My heart beats even faster now. “Get ready to launch your drone, Joey. ”

“Woohoo, hoo, hoo-wee!” Joey hollers as a cell phone rings again. This time, it’s Ryker’s phone, and he connects the call through Thor’s Bluetooth speaker.

“Talk to me,” he says.

“There could be a tornado nearly above us—you see those rain curtains?” Hawk says.

“Copy that,” Ryker responds, gaze flashing to mine.

I know what he’s doing: checking to make sure I’m not freaking out at the prospect of a tornado almost on top of us. But I didn’t need Hawk to tell me that information; I was about to say the same thing. I think Hawk is used to being in my position instead of in the truck behind—not that I mind. It’s good to have this many eyes on a storm. Often, a chase team works collectively instead of sticking to their roles one-hundred-percent, especially where spotting is concerned. I’m sure Ryker and Joey also knew.

“Keep going down this road,” I say, threading as much confidence into my voice as possible. “That paved one you need to take a right on should be coming up. Be aware of traffic and maybe other chasers.”

Ryker focuses back on the road, and I think I see a bit of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Not sure what that’s about, but I’m not going to let myself care.

“Hawk boy, you got your rocket ready?” Joey asks as gets his drone set.

“My rocket is always ready,” Hawk retorts.

I dare to look at Joey, who’s blushing as he chuckles. “Good to hear. Make sure it doesn’t go off prematurely,” he teases.

My chest shakes with laughter as Hawk ends the call. There’s definitely something going on between them, and I can’t wait to ask Joey about it later.

The paved road comes into view, and sure enough, there are some other chasers around. We send them a wave as we turn on the road and continue to haul ass to where we think the tornado will drop. The closer we get to the storm, the heavier the rain becomes, and the wind picks up speed.

“Look at the right side of it,” I say, on the edge of my seat figuratively and literally. “I think we’re going to get a touchdown soon.”

In the distance, only a couple of short miles away, an open farm field starts to swirl with dirt and debris. The dark wall cloud above it is telling me that I’m right.

“Look at that intense motion,” Ryker says, voice breathy and reverent.

Goosebumps break out over my arms, and I start to vibrate in my seat. This is it—another tornado. We’re lucky that we’re getting one out on our first chase today, which makes me wonder how many more we’ll come across tonight. It’s more common for tornadoes to touch down in the afternoon or evening because the sun has had time to heat the ground, creating the necessary instability in the atmosphere to produce severe storms—specifically, tornadoes.

“I think this road is perfect for launch,” Ryker says. “Do you agree, Ms. Buckley?”

I ignore the formality and observe the storm. “Yes, I think so.”

“Holy fuck!” Joey bounces. “It’s happening!”

“I’m opening the hatch above you, Joey!” Ryker yells over the growing noise of the wind through his open window. “Launch your drone.”

“Anything for you, T-Daddy!”

Ryker grins, and it makes me happy to see him be nicer to my old friend. From the driver’s seat, he presses a button, opening the hatch above the back seat. Rain falls in, getting mostly on Joey but splashing on me and Ryker, too.

Joey laughs, giddy in his excitement. He slips on his goggles, ready to pilot the drone, and effortlessly launches it through the hatch into the stormy sky with his controller. “Fuck, this never gets old,” he says. “It’s like having a front-row seat every time. ”

I grin widely as I look at the storm, balancing the laptop on my legs and opening my window. The gifted camera around my neck still feels heavy with unanswered questions, but it’s mine now; I may as well use it. It would be a shame not to, right?

I fiddle with the buttons, quickly adjusting the focus and exposure before aiming it out at the developing tornado.

“That’s a textbook wall cloud,” I say with an awe similar to what Ryker had in his voice a moment ago. I snap a few pics then pull back. “Professor West, speed up.”

His head snaps to mine, and I’m not sure if it’s because I called him “professor” or because I’m telling him to hurry.

“It’s on the ground!” I yell, pointing to the left.

He follows my finger. “Hell yeah, it is.” The enthusiasm laced in his deep voice makes my toes curl. It strikes me that I’m living my dream right now: I’m on a chase with Tempest Trackers and I’m giving directions, the very image I’ve dreamt about and manifested nearly every day since I was a teen.

Ryker West is next to me, Ezra and Hawk are behind us, and one of my friends is in the back seat. I’m here, right now. And there’s a tornado in front of us.

Holy crap!

My earlier spiral floats away like a distant memory, and I watch as the tornado gains strength. Currently, it looks almost like a rotating dust cloud that’s dropped from an ethereal mass of dark gray clouds above it. But as it starts to condense, it takes on the tightened shape of what we call a “drill bit”—wide at the top and narrow at the bottom.

“Look at the motion on that, look at the motion!” Ryker exclaims.

“Yeehaw, baby!” Joey hoots. “So fucking pretty.”

“We’re catching it. This one is it!” Ryker adds.

Extreme elation builds between us until it feels as if Thor is going to explode from our energy alone.

“This footage is fucking epic, y’all. Wait till you see!” Joey yells. “I bet Hawk and Ezra are freaking out. It’s so good!”

I’m sure they are, because this kind of moment is what chasers live for, no matter how many times we witness it.

The tornado is in a field on the left side of the road, swirling and twisting, the base of it getting bigger as it stays on the ground. It’s probably no more than a mile and a half away.

“Here we go, here we go!” Ryker yells louder. “It’s spiraling all the way up the base.”

“Oh my god,” I whisper, eyes wide with wonder. The tornado rolls south. It should cross the road in front of us, if not on top of us. But that’s what we want.

“We got it, we got it!” Ryker chants.

I snap another picture of the howling beast as the debris field around the tornado gets larger. “Pull off here,” I say.

Ryker doesn’t question me, and I won’t deny that it makes my stomach contract that he’s listened to me again, especially at this intense moment.

“I’m pulling back the drone so I don’t lose it!” Joey yells as we come to a stop.

“Heard,” Ryker says as he unbuckles his seatbelt. He pushes a button, and the lift system activates the doors, popping them open. Ryker is out of the car before I can blink, and I quickly follow.

Rain pours down on us, but it’s not enough to soak our clothes, and wind whips my hair across my face. I snap several more photos as I stand in reverence of the phenomena that almost took my life yesterday. I should probably be scared—a normal person would be—but I’m not. I’m pumped and know I’m going to remember this moment for the rest of my life.

A car door slamming turns my head in the direction of Hawk and Ezra, who have pulled up behind us. They get out of Ryker’s truck with full-faced smiles on and approach us through the whipping wind.

Ezra has his phone held up in front of him, talking to it as if he’s live on social media, and Hawk clutches one of the rockets Ryker showed us earlier in his hands .

“We’ve got a clear spot coming around!” Ryker yells over the roaring sound of the tornado nearing closer, less than a mile away now. My ears start to pop from the changing pressure, and the wind becomes stronger.

“We should launch,” Hawk says, handing the rocket he’s holding to Ryker. “I took one from the back of Thor earlier; I had something I wanted to tweak. It should do what we need it to do if the inflow band takes it up.”

The two men, longtime friends and colleagues, share a look that’s hard to put into words—one filled with joy, love, thrill, and maybe even relief. As Ryker said, this moment has been a long time coming. If it works, it won’t only be significant for them but for the entire field of meteorology.

I understand the weight of it, and I send a silent prayer that everything goes smoothly. And that I didn’t pick the wrong storm to chase or placement to put us in, though I’m sure Ryker knew this was the right choice, too, or he wouldn’t have agreed or pulled over.

A moment later, Joey steps out of Thor sans goggles and drone, but he’s wearing the goofiest of grins, like he just came down from the best high of his life.

“Holy hell!” he hollers. “That was great! Now, let’s shoot that rocket—fuck shit up right outta the gate!”

Ryker steps away from a laughing Hawk after he pats him once more on the shoulder. Then he points at me.

“Ms. Buckley, you’re with me,” Ryker commands before going to the back door of Thor, the rocket now in hand.

I frown and turn to Hawk, yelling over the noise. “Don’t you want to, Hawk? It’s your baby.”

He smiles at me gently, his weathered tan cheeks lifting. “I’m the science guy—you both do your thing.”

“Come on, Ms. Buckley!” Ryker yells from inside Thor now.

My pulse skips as I call out a thank you to Hawk and rush to Ryker .

He’s in the back where Joey was before, his head and torso coming through the top of the open hatch as he starts to load the rocket onto the launch pad they’ve built on the side of the roof.

“Hawk, Ezra,” he commands loudly, his voice carrying to where they stand a foot or so from the massive vehicle’s trunk. “After we launch, you’ll both stay here with the truck to start receiving data, and the rest of us will drive in for a direct intercept to get more data from the subsonic sensors we have with us. If needed, move back a quarter mile so you’re completely in the clear.”

The men yell their agreement as Ryker’s comment reminds me I’m going to be inside another tornado in a matter of minutes.

“Step up here, and hold the shaft,” he says to me.

I attempt to stop my cheeks from turning pink at his comment and get up on the edge of the door where there’s a lip, gripping the rocket shaft. Our fingers brush as wind swirls around us, and that zap of electricity passes between us again. I’d growl at that sensation if I could. My body needs to understand that Ryker and I are no longer involved. He’s my platonic professor.

His jaw tenses for a moment as if he’s thinking the same thing before he looks up at the sky. “It’s coming fast—we gotta launch before we lose our chance.”

We stare at each other for a brief second, and in his eyes, I see a million things he wants to say. None of which I’m sure I want to even hear, nor is this the appropriate time.

“Launch it now, Ryker!” Hawk yells.

“Is it connected on that side?” Ryker asks me.

I break our eye contact and pull my hand back from the heat of his. I do as he requests, making sure the rocket’s secure where he can’t properly see. “You’re good.”

“Step back, Ms. Buckley. I don’t want you to get hurt. ”

The same words he said earlier wrap around my heart and squeeze. Their meaning holds more weight each time he repeats them, because I know he doesn’t mean just physically.

With a nod, I step down before moving to where the guys are standing just far enough away so they aren’t in the rocket’s path but still close to Thor. Joey puts his arm around my shoulders as we watch Ryker do what he was born to do.

He holds down his backward cap with one hand as the wind gusts become strong and harsh against our bodies, his head tipping back as if he’s sending a silent prayer to the tornado gods. “Launching now.”

Ryker ducks down into Thor and closes the hatch. A second later, the rocket launches into the sky with a loud pop and whooshing noise.

“Oh my god,” I mutter under my breath. “It’s going!”

The rocket goes up and up, cutting through the strong wind and toward the inflow band. The world seems to go silent as we wait, and Ryker reopens the hatch to watch with us as it slices through the air.

Right when I think it’s going to work, it takes a sharp and sudden nosedive, descending quickly toward the ground, the parachute and sensor that released dropping with it. It lands in the field in front of us, maybe one hundred yards away.

There’s utter silence among us, then a loud laugh breaks through. It starts out light but builds into a belly laugh. Joey and I glance at each other with confusion before we turn our gazes to Ryker, the source of the sound.

Hawk joins in, followed by Ezra’s deep chuckle.

“Well, I guess my last-minute tweak fucked it up!” Hawk yells to Ryker.

“It’s okay, it got up there pretty high,” he answers before getting out of Thor and joining us on the ground.

“I see where it landed,” Ezra says, pointing to where I also saw it land .

“Ezra and I will get it once the storm clears,” Hawk says. “The three of you go get data from the ground.”

“Not going to happen,” Joey says, pointing toward the sky.

The group of us follow his finger to where the tornado is quickly dissipating, the storm weakening as fast as it came. It’s wild to see in person, and it’s not the first time I’ve witnessed it. Sometimes tornadoes will fade gradually, but other times, they can go from violence to nothing in moments. It’s the unpredictability of weather—reminds me a lot of humans and a certain professor of mine.

“Fuck,” Ryker mutters under his breath.

“You tamed that one too hard, Tornado Daddy. Scared the shit right out of it with that rocket,” Joey chirps.

The group laughs, and Ryker smirks before he notices the way Joey still has his arm around me. Ryker’s gaze morphs to the same grumpy one he gave us when Joey had his arm around me at the gas station. I have the urge to call him out on it right here, but I show restraint for what feels like the millionth time today.

“Everything okay, Daddy?” Joey asks. I stiffen under Joey’s arm and look up at him to find he’s grinning like a sly fox.

His words shake the grumpy glare from Ryker, who forces a tight half-smile on his face. “I’m fine. Just thinking about the rocket.”

Liar.

“Let’s take some time to regroup,” Hawk suggests. “We’re in a good spot to catch a storm if another looks good, and I’ll see if I can figure out what went wrong.”

“We can grab some food at a diner near here,” Ezra adds. “I see it on maps.”

Ryker nods. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Hell yes! I could crush a greasy double cheeseburger!” Joey cheers, letting go of me and making a beeline for Thor. “But lunch is on T-Daddy!”