“Nope.” Her smile is sly. Cunning. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”
She spins, heelsclick-clackingand hips swaying out of the lobby. I watch her go, embarrassed to admit I’m a little turned on.
Confidence.
Gets me every fucking time.
“Sebastian. It’s great to meet you.” George Davis, the meteorologist-in-charge at the Melbourne, Florida, NWS office, shakes my hand and motions for me to take the seat across fromhim. “I’ve heard nothing but good things. You come highly recommended, and I was happy to add an extra interview slot so we could squeeze you in.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too, sir.” I sit in the leather chair and get comfortable, a foot propped up on my knee. “This is an incredible opportunity.”
“I’m not going to bother with your résumé. I know who you are, and I’m surprised to hear you’re interested in leaving ABC. Have there been issues at the station?”
“Not at all. I’ve loved my tenure onWorld News TonightandGood Morning America, but personally, I think it’s time to move on.”
“Thousands of people would kill for that job, and many would consider taking a position like this a step down. Why the change of heart?”
“I chased my first tornado when I was nineteen. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, only that other people who were interested in weather were going to be there, and I should give it a try. I couldn’t have picked a worse day for spotting.”
I laugh, reminiscing on the afternoon I spent out in Bithlo after joining an online group for local storm chasers. They planned the meetup for a Saturday afternoon, and I went in hopes I’d see Quincy. I’d overhear her in class talking about the thrill of the chase. The rush of adrenaline when you saw a funnel cloud up close and personal for the first time.
She didn’t show up. Mia was on the phone with her later that night, offering to bring over soup and cold medicine, but it’s probably a good thing she stayed home. I would’ve spent my time trying to get her attention instead of watching the sky.
“We sat around for close to eight hours without a single indication we were going to have a storm capable of producing rotation,” I say. “You know the Florida climate is nothing like the air out in Oklahoma where a monster cell can form in the blink of an eye.We were about to call it a day, and that’s when we saw it. A funnel cloudfinallytouched down. It was small. Barely even an EF0, but, boy, did I feel alive. After that, I craved being in the action. While my current role allows me opportunities to still be on the front lines of weather reporting, it’s not as often as I’d like. Or in the capacity I’d like.”
“I remember my first chase.” George leans back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin and deep in thought. “I don’t know how much Danny told you, but the SOO is the top research position at the weather forecast office. There’s a lot of training and staying up-to-date on science technologies. You’ll need to become familiar with weather and climate system features and fill in as a forecaster if needed. Our office covers ten counties in east Central Florida plus six marine zones, so things get busy around here.”
“Busy is exactly what I’m looking for. I’m good at it. I like to have a purpose, and a role like this has the responsibility and time commitment I handle well.” I scoot forward. My foot taps on the carpet, excited. Hungry, and with big dreams I’m seeing clearly for the first time. “I, ah, also brainstormed a couple of ideas on the drive over. Things that are out of the box, but could be beneficial to the community. And the office.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Right. Um.” I fix my pant leg, hiding the socks I put on this morning that are decorated with umbrellas. “It’s sort of an outreach program with local school groups to foster excitement for weather at an early age. The NWS has a responsibility to be available around the clock. When you’re interacting with the public, most of the time it’s because an emergency is unfolding. I think it’s important to create a platform that prioritizes education and understanding so people know they can trust you in the time of a crisis.”
“Excellent suggestions, Sebastian.” George jots a note in the margin on the paper in front of him. His praise makes me beam. “I love candidates who are go-getters. With your experience and enthusiasm, I don’t doubt you’d bring anything less than excellence to the table.”
There are some more formalities. Questions about how so-and-so is doing, the network of meteorologists small but mighty. After the interview, George gives me a tour of the building. He points out the operations floor and introduces me to some of the team. We stop by and say hello to Danny, and he’s quick to give me a high five.
“It’s good to see you, man. What do you think of the place?” he asks when George leaves me with a handshake and a promise to follow up soon.
“It’s different from my studio in New York, but trust me when I say that’s not a bad thing.” I laugh, surveying the space. Imagining myself working here. “How are the other candidates looking?”
“There’s a good mix of qualifications.” He points across the room to the watercooler, and I follow the line of his hand. “What do you know about Quincy Monroe?”
“I know a lot of things.”
“What’s she like?”
“You’re going to have to be more specific, man,” I say.
“Come on, Seb.” Danny scoots his chair my way. “Is she smart? Can she keep up with how fast things are going to move around here? There’s no threat of a hurricane to the United States, but tomorrow a Category 5 could be knocking on our door.”
“You haven’t seen her show, have you?”
“I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never watched it.”
“If you did, you’d know she’s smarter than everyone in this room combined. Probably works twice as hard as all of us too. Trust me when I say she knows her shit.”
“Really?” He sounds impressed. A little awed. Makes sense, since that’s how I feel too. The Quincy fucking Monroe effect. “Damn. She just earned herself a new subscriber.”
