With a salute and the tip of an imaginary hat, Eli jogs toward one of the cars pulling out of the parking lot. When the passenger-side door slams shut, I glance over at the only person left.
Sebastian’s eyes widen. The grin he gives me is devilish. Unfairly coy with a lazy lift of his shoulder.
“Looks like it’s just you and me, Quinny baby. Probably for the best. I’ve never liked to share.” His voice is the hint of the leftover liquor in an expensive glass. Smooth, distracting. “What do you say we have some fun?”
Mia
Be safe today, Quin. I know you’ve been in more dangerous storms than this one, but I always worry about you.
I promise I’ll be careful.
Mia
I’d miss you very much if something happened to you.
Harlow
I tuned in to your show this morning. Thirty thousand people were watching. That’s WILD. You’re such a badass, Quin.
I think they might’ve been there for Sebastian. Every time he sneaks into one of my broadcasts, the viewer number skyrockets.
Mia
Give him a hug for me and tell him I need him to be safe too!
Best I can do is elbow his ribs and hope he stays on his side of the camera.
Mia
Acceptable.
Harlow
Love you, Quin. Text us when you can.
Love y’all too. I’ll be back tomorrow.
Sebastian and I take cover in the lower level of a parking garage when Claudia comes through.
Both of our cameras record the rain falling in sheets around us. I live stream the first part of the storm to show the impacts we’re experiencing. Sebastian films a couple videos of himself discussing the deteriorating conditions, and we work around each other to capture the footage we want to grab.
A tarp at the construction site across the road rips in two, part of the blue awning tumbling into the bay. A dozen palm trees snap in half, falling like bowling pins in the road and blocking most of the evacuation routes.
I’m glad we left our cars parked a couple blocks away. It’ll be easier to get out when everything quiets down.
The power in the hotel next door to the garage flickers on and off then goes out completely, the darkened windows making it feel like we’re the only ones in the world.
We argue over where they’ll mark landfall on the map. He guesses somewhere north, near Hollywood. I stay with my original idea of the greater Miami area, elated when the NHC reports Wynwood as the official spot of hurricane entry, a mile up the road from where we are.
“I wish I could’ve seen those assholes’ faces when they found out they were wrong.” I slip off the hood of my rain jacket and squeeze out my drenched ponytail. The eye is passing over us, offering a reprieve from the wind we’ve been fighting against the last three hours. “I hope they don’t get any footage they can use on social media.”
“Don’t you know how to read a map,sweetheart?” Sebastian scoffs as we walk down the road, assessing damage whileconditions are calm. He moves a small branch out of the way so I don’t have to climb over it. “Is that how it always is for you?”
“What? People thinking I’m not capable of doing my job because I’m a woman? Pretty much. You should see the emails I get.”
He stops in the middle of the sidewalk and puts his hand on my forearm so I have to stop too. “What do they say?”
“We’re in a hurricane. The messages people send me shouldn’t be a priority.”
