Page 12 of Perfect Pitch

“What makes you say that? I thought with having Fallon as your roommate...” Her voice trails off as I shake my head.

“She decided she hates Texas and is moving to North Carolina. She’s transferring at the end of the semester to a small school near Asheville.”

“Oh, honey.” The empathy I hear in my mother’s voice completely undoes me.

“I feel... is stifled the right word? Like I need to do more, see more. Does that make sense?”

My mother tenses slightly before relaxing. “More than you could possibly know. Have you given thought to what you want to do?”

I swallow hard against the knot forming in my throat. “Can you hold on to that question while I go get something?”

My mother nods. I leap up from the couch and race up the stairs. Next to my bed are my iPhone, a headset, and a binder. I snatch up all three and run back down the stairs.

My mother hasn’t moved except to curl her legs up to her chin. She’s staring, lost in deep thought. I clear my throat so I don’t startle her. I hold out the binder first. “I’ve been working on a plan.”

She accepts it and opens to the first page. It’s a news clipping from the UT radio station announcing their recent hires.

She flips the page and reads about how listenership has gone up 35% on the night shift since DJ Kensington took over in the booth with her incredible remix of club music. My mother reads aloud, “‘Kensington is the only thing worth listening to on a Saturday night!’ gushed one senior.”

I flip the page for her.

The next one is an announcement where “Kensington” is the DJ of record for a wedding.

One after that, a bat mitzvah.

The UT paper announcing they’re moving Kensington to the day shift at the demand of the student body, as presented by the president.

She keeps reading this scrapbook of accolades and asks, “Austyn, I understand college may not be for you, but have you given it enough time? It looks to me like you’re just hitting your stride.”

Then she flips to the last page and her breath catches.

It’s my social profile on TikTok with just over 5 million followers. She flips each page seeing the number of people who have viewed and—more importantly—liked my videos in the hundreds of thousands.

Silent, she reaches the envelope I tucked into the back pocket.

It’s a letter from the owners of a nightclub in New York City—a place called Club—inviting me to DJ for them anytime I’m in the city. Her fingers tremble as she measures the thickness of the paper—exclusive, expensive. “Was this a serious offer?”

I nod. “One of UTs seniors is related to the owner somehow. He was listening to my show when he was home over fall break. I received the letter shortly after that.”

She murmurs, “You always had so much genius. I’m not surprised the world’s noticing.”

I press to get my point across. “Mama, I tried college, but it’s not for me. I’m wasting my time and your money.”

She stares down at the last page for a moment before closing the binder. “What’s your proposition?”

“A lot of it depends on you.”

“What about me?”

I’m blunt. “On whether you believe in my dreams enough to let me cash in my college fund.”

My mother’s head falls back. “Christ, Austyn. What a way to put it.”

I lift my hands in silent supplication. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not. You wanted my attention? Trust me, you’ve got it. Now that you do, give me numbers.”

I begin doing just that. I go over how much it would cost for rent. “Ideally I’d find someone to live with.”

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