Becca rubbed her thumb over my brows, smoothing them in place before tipping my head left and right. It was invasive, but I told myself not to pull away.
“Clutch the beam and dangle your feet?” Arty suggested.
I obeyed, but he shook his head. “No. You’re too stiff. Try to relax. Maybe balance your heels on the lower rung.” He chewedthe inside of his cheek as I complied, but he shook his head. “Turn a bit. That’s it. Chin up. You’re slouching again. Act normal, bud. It isn’t rocket science.”
What did normal mean exactly?
By the time Arty deemed mecamera-ready, a giant pool of sweat had gathered in my armpits. Was it visible? No one mentioned it, so I assumed not. My stomach soured, and I regretted breakfast. If I threw up on camera, would they keep the clip and humiliate me on national television? With my luck? Probably.
On Arty’s suggestion, Becca leaned casually against the fence, peering up at me like we were involved in an intimate conversation, which was precisely the impression they were going for.
“Ready?” she asked.
“No. Can I hear the questions before we start? So I’m prepared.”
Becca patted my knee, hand lingering. “Better they come as a surprise. That way we get an authentic reaction.”
“Oh.” I wanted to shove her hand off my leg, but resisted. “Okay.”
Arty gave Becca the green light. Instead of launching directly into the interview, she scanned the field beyond the fence and tipped her face to the sky, inhaling the fresh country air and letting the nonexistent breeze dance across her cheeks. “Such a gorgeous property you have here on the outskirts of Elk City. It’s refreshing.”
I flashed my attention from Becca to Arty when she stopped talking. Was I supposed to engage? She hadn’t asked a question. Scrambling, I said, “It’s my father’s land.”
Becca smiled. “Do you like country living?”
“Yes.”
“Deep in tornado alley.”
I nodded.
“Perfect for what you do.”
I didn’t correct her.
“So… Gale Windrow, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“And how old are you, Gale?”
“Twenty-six.”
“You seem younger.”
My cheeks burned.
“Are you always this quiet?”
“I guess.” I wasn’t sure what she expected me to add.
“I’d like to hear about your role with the team. You have a degree in meteorology, isn’t that right?”
I sighed. “No. I have a degree in atmospheric science.”
“Oh. Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Not technically. Meteorology is a branch of atmospheric science primarily applied to short-term weather analysis and forecasting. My area is broader. We study climate change and aeronomy and examine how aerosol impacts or chemical changes drive these weather phenomena. It’s more research-focused.”
