The cool air coming through the vent makes me shiver, a phantom wrapping around my body that has me rushing to turn the knobs on the shower.
A groan comes from behind the wall, and with wide eyes, I take a step back when a wild, unrealistic thought enters my mind.
What if the wall explodes?
It’s completely unrealistic, but the image of water spewing from an old pipe has me take another step away until the towel rack presses into my back.
“Nariko, snap out of it.” I rub my eyes again, tired of the way I exhaust myself mentally.
Steam rises from the shower, letting me know the water is warm and ready. Smelling all the towels they left, I’m pleased when they don’t smell like cigarette smoke or are rough to the touch. They smell fresh like linen and lavender and are much softer than the carpet.
A win is a win.
My phone buzzes, and I nearly trip over my own two feet to get to it because I know it’s Oklahoma. My heart lurches from my chest quicker than I can move my legs. I catch myself with one hand on the wall, my legs spread, and the other hand gripping the edge of the countertop.
Naked.
Gathering my dignity and composure, I clear my throat and snag my phone.
Oklahoma: You’re gorgeous doing what you love. I’m sorry, Nariko. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that you’re a storm chaser.
Me:Does that mean you don’t want to go out anymore or are you saying, “Wow, I can’t believe you’re a storm chaser?”
Oklahoma: A little bit of both. I know I’m being hot and cold.
Me: It’s fine. We owe each other nothing. We’re strangers. There’s no need to apologize. It was nice meeting you. I think it’s best if we stop talking now, then. I don’t have time for uncertainty. My time is too valuable to be wasted. I know you have a lot to do as well, so let’s not waste any more time trying to make something happen that can’t.
Bubbles pop-up on his end, once, twice, three times, and I power down my phone. I need a break. The men in my life are playing tug of war with me—in different ways—I’m sick of it.
It’s time to cut off the outside world and have some time to myself. Stepping into the shower, the hot water rushes down my body, instantly warming me.
Spinning around, I hang my head, the water spraying down my body. I’m not sure how long I’ve stayed like this. My wrist cramps from leaning against the stall.
I watch the brownish water swirl down the drain along with my thoughts. When my body is loose and exhausted, I wash from head to toe, scrubbing the mud off until my skin protests.
Next, I start from the bottom of my long hair, washing the ends a few times before I make my way to the roots.
Rinsing and turning off the water, I step out, snagging two towels. I dry off, wrap one around my body, then squeeze the water from my hair with the other.
I’ll regret not brushing my hair when I wake up, but I’m too tired to care. With just a towel wrapped around me, I tuck myself into the unforgiving bed. The springs squeak and poke against my side, but I don’t care.
I’ve never been more thankful for a flat surface.
Closing my eyes, I ignore the one tear rolling down my cheek from Oklahoma’s last message.
His moods give me a headache. I won’t let a man ruin one of the best storm-chasing seasons this state has ever seen.
Even as I shut my eyes and his face comes to view, I don’t believe a word I say to myself.
I have a feeling everything is changing.
And it’s allhisfault.
My skin is tight. My muscles hurt. My teeth feel like they are about to fall out. Moving takes more energy than I have. I’m hungry—no—I’m starved.
Stumbling my way into the kitchen, I slam my shoulder against the wall and roar so loud with annoyance, the wind chimes sing outside. Every step sends a burning pain through my body. Sweat clings to my skin. My thirst, my hunger, it’s never been this strong before.
I could drain someone and not feel any remorse for killing them.
