As a meteorology major, I know a supercell when I see one. I know when to take cover. But when the tornado sirens blast across campus, I don’t follow the herd to safety. Instead, I make a calculated move toward the three athletes I’ve been watching from the shadows all semester.
There’s Jackson, the linebacker built like a battering ram with eyes like black pits. There’s Martin, the basketball star with the master key and a cruel, knowing smile. And Finn, the swimmer who moves with a silent, predatory grace.
Now we’re locked in a dusty equipment room, isolated from the panic, huddled in the emergency lighting. The air is thick with heat and tension. But my heart isn't pounding because of the destruction raging outside. It’s pounding because I have a secret I’m finally ready to confess.
I’m untouched. And I didn't come down here to hide. I came down here to be claimed.
The storm outside is tearing the world apart. But inside these four walls, I’m about to be completely, beautifully destroyed.
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