Oklahoma Volume (Off Grid Billionaires #7)

Chapter 1

I’m an introvert, which means partying is usually the last thing on my mind.

I prefer to stay indoors, studying obscure things that bore most of the people that I talk to.

I love to study the sky and the weather, and want to be a meteorologist. There’s a report out about a tornado warning so I went outside to watch the sky.

That’s how I met Scott, a guy my age who lives in the same neighborhood as my parents. He’s old money, and my parents just moved in a few months ago after dad’s big promotion. I drive into town for the local college, and he goes to the privately funded college a few miles east of here.

I know that because Scott kept mentioning it before I agreed to come to the party.

I’m not sure I really belong here, but it felt nice to be invited to hang out with the rich kids who never pay much mind to me.

I decided it couldn’t hurt to go to a party close to home.

I can make my escape if the tornado becomes an issue.

I just need to get better at fitting in. I thought I left most of my social awkwardness behind in high school, but it looks like it’s still following me well into college.

The crowd around me laughs at a joke I’ve missed, and I fake a smile and try to join into their chuckles.

None of the people here really know me, but a few are my neighbors.

The night is young, barely pushing nine with the sky dark and cloudy above us.

It’s storm season, and through my alcoholic haze I’ve been eyeing the sky.

I mentioned it to Scott on the way over here, and occasionally a few times in this group of friends, but no one’s really paying that much attention to what I have to say. The alcohol is making me loose, not dumb, and I don’t really want to start testing mother nature.

“Should we storm chase?” Scott asks, looking around the little group. Some of us migrated outside after the alcohol kicked in, and the girl I was sort of talking to came out so I followed. I didn’t want to end up alone inside trying to talk to a guy I don’t really know how to flirt with.

That could be any guy.

The girl beside me snorts at the idea, giggling too hard to continue sitting up as she bats her lashes at Scott.

She slumps beside me against the side of the car, and I match her grin.

I probably look like a fool, knowing my smile is silly because of all the alcohol in my system, and her smile is goofy too.

Storm chasing sounds like fun, but the sky makes me wary.

I’ve never done this before, not as a student still in school.

I’m not into a real world application yet, I’m still studying and doubt any of my professors right now want to take me out into a tornado, but I definitely have an interest in it.

It would be cool to be that close to a force of nature like a tornado and be surrounded by people who know how to avoid dying.

This… may not really be the right crowd.

The streetlight nearby barely illuminates the area, making it difficult for us to see each other.

The wind is warm and powerful as it speeds by, whipping my already messy hair around my face.

I stare up at the sky: no green-tinted clouds, no undulating noise, no rain.

I don’t think a tornado is arriving quite yet, but I’d be surprised if we don’t see something.

The nagging voice in my head tells me maybe we shouldn't be chilling on the street and should be closer to a storm shelter. I’ve never been through a tornado before, but it could definitely happen tonight.

Scott says something else that I don’t catch, his mouth moving but the words not registering. Scott is different for a rich college kid, at least in my head he is. He has this labret piercing that I always stare at, and it highlights his smile when he grins.

I’m not infatuated with this rich boy. Not at all. He just has a really pretty smile…

Letting out a loud hiccup, Scott pushes the other guy away from the driver’s side door. I still can’t remember what his name is. “You know, this baby can hit a pretty hundo when I slam on the gas. If we go into this storm we could try and race a tornado.”

The girl with a goofy grin from before claps her hands.

There are six of us out here separated from the rest of the party, and we’re staring at a five-seater car.

We could squish into the backseat, but as my bleary eyes take in the group I have my doubts that's a smart option. Scott and the nameless guy are jocks, then there’s the four of us girls.

Two of them are in cheer, wearing their tight uniforms here of all places, and one of the cheerleaders keeps removing fake lint from her clothes.

The third girl is Lisa, who seems to be the leader of the other two.

If anyone is about to be screwed here with seating, I think it’s gonna be me.

Licking my dry lips, I can hear the echo of my father’s voice as the five start talking about how awesome it would be to speed into a storm. A dangerous, deadly storm. “Don’t drive drunk. Stupid shit happens behind the wheel when you’re intoxicated.”

There’s a shift in the wind, and our little group gasps and curses as sprinkling rain hits all of us.

Wearing a cute tank and jeans with holes suddenly feels like a mistake when the cold drops splash against my bare skin, but I’m still wearing more than the three other girls who all shriek into the night.

It’s still too damn early for this. My drunken mind can process that this is a bad decision, but I don’t lean away from the car. I’ve had more fun tonight than I normally do, and I want to keep the high going.

Scott wouldn’t drive that badly, right?

“Hayden,” Lisa says to me suddenly. “You’ll come with us girl, won’t you? Don’t you want to go for a ride? Don’t you?”

She’s tall, pretty, and pretty much the definition of the classic blonde popular girl stereotype.

She seems to be in charge of the group of girls I’ve attached myself to, and she’s the only one who makes me uncomfortable.

The guys are fine, if not a little dumb tonight, but Lisa seems to make it a mission to be mean.

I don’t see why since she’s already surrounded by people who want her attention anyway.

I blink, my eyes bouncing between the rain, the five-seater, and the group of six. Even my alcohol-infused brain sees the errors here. “Uh—”

“We have room for five and can toss someone in the trunk,” Scott’s friend jokes. Josh? John? Something bland with a J. “Who wants to take a nap?”

“That’d be fun,” Lisa coaxes me, bouncing her hip off of my midsection, coaxing a grunt from my lips. We’re nowhere close to the same height, and her tall skinny heels put her hip closer to my belly button.

Horizontal might not be a good idea.

Lisa shoots me a look, and I glare right back, ready to forgo socialization to keep the alcohol in my stomach and not on the floor of a freaking trunk. At least I think I glare. It’s hard to tell if it comes across as a glare or not when I’m fighting the renewed urge to giggle.

“Don’t be a buzzkill,” Lisa hisses before shoving me.

I stumble in my sneakers, gripping the strap of my bag across my chest like it’s somehow in danger of falling off of me.

Lisa smirks before I manage to right myself, and the rain starts to fall a little harder.

She’s swaying her hips as she walks around to the other side, popping open the front seat passenger door like she owns it. Her glare feels as cold as the rain.

Scott walks up to me, his handsome smile looks a little less kind now. “Well, Hayden, you’re the smallest one of us. You’d fit great in the trunk.”

Unease creeps up my throat, or maybe it’s just the urge to vomit.

This is a Ford Taurus, meaning the trunk isn’t a great place for a person.

Are trunks airtight? I’ve always driven an SUV, and airtight feels like the right word for trunk…

but everything has a general feeling right now.

It’s all very floaty and unfocused with the mix of schnapps and vodka swirling in my stomach.

“We’d all be able to go then,” Lisa agrees, coming back over to the trunk before her firm grip wraps around my wrist. Is it friendly?

I can’t tell. She pushes back her blonde hair, which the wind is doing a fantastic job ripping out of the updo.

Then she slides a bit of my dark black hair between her fingers.

“You’ll blend in back there. And it’s just one little ride. ”

I frown. She makes me feel way less settled than Scott, who gives my arm another squeeze. The group grins at me, and as the J guy opens the rear passenger door and people start crowding in, I bolster my nerves.

I wanna fit in. I’m twenty, and I don’t make friends easily, and these people seem to want to spend time with me.

Maybe it’s the alcohol clouding my judgment, but didn’t I used to coast around in the trunk of cars as a kid?

I mean, it was a truck bed usually with the family dog, but the principle should be the same…

Scott nudges me towards the trunk as Lisa releases me, and I let him. Everyone else is already cramming themselves into the front and back seats, ignoring me. He pops the trunk and I eye the inside, doubt creeping in.

“There’s sports gear back here,” I tell him, staring at the football equipment. I lean in, but it doesn’t look like he has an icky gym bag back here at least.

Scott gives me a push, and my knees bang against the edge of the car. “It shouldn’t be in your way, babe. Just nudge it to the side.”

“Will I be able to breathe in here?” I ask, grabbing my head. This suddenly feels like a stupid idea, and I’m glad the people in the car can’t see us with the trunk popped. “I don’t think you can breathe in a closed trunk.”

I don’t get to turn back and see what Scott thinks, because he gives me another push. My cloudy brain doesn’t react fast enough, and I hiss when my hands slam against the floor of the trunk. I think I’d rather stay at the party or call a ride home than commit to this. The fear is real.

Scott grabs my legs, flipping me into the trunk. I groan when I’m pushed inside, practically hugging the helmet that’s in my way.

“You’ll be fine, babe!” Scott tells me, and I squirm around to try and see him over my shoulder, lying on my stomach. It’s cramped in here, which makes my breathing speed up. “We won’t go too far out of town. If we get lucky we can see a funnel and start a real race.”

Is there a storm warning? I can’t remember, but the panic sets in when he slams the trunk closed above me and blankets me in the dark. My bag is still crushed between my torso and the floor, so at least I have all my things.

Fear grips me as the realization hits that I’m locked in here. I don’t think anyone riding inside the rest of the car knows a damn thing about the weather, but if an advisory goes off—

The car starts moving and I gasp, fidgeting around to grab my phone. It’s weird lying in the back of a car, feeling my stomach doing flips from all the liquor I consumed. It feels like it’s going incredibly fast, but that could be my imagination.

Swallowing, a little thrill goes through me as I bang against the roof of the trunk.

Fear should be all consuming, but the rational - or maybe irrational - side of me really wants to get up close and personal with a storm.

I probably have no business trying to storm chase, especially with a group of college kids who don’t know what they are doing.

But what’s better than experiencing a tornado up close and personal?