Page 24 of The Sound of Us

“I can’t hear Skye over the rumbling of my stomach.”

“I’ve got candy,” I offered, digging into my purse. “I always carry it for emergencies.”

“Hit me.” He held out one hand to me and signed a document someone was holding with the other.

I handed him a small packet of gummy bears and he tore it open with his teeth.

“I read your application this morning,” he said, popping a gummy bear into his mouth. “Sports person. Journalism major. Sophomore because you took a year off for medical reasons. You’re planning to go into print.”

“Yes, but—”

“Top three concerts of all time.”

My gaze cut to the group in the hallway, all listening with avid interest. Was this going to be a group interview? I could feel my throat tighten until my gaze fell on the Rolling Stones poster on the wall. Music. It was my jam. “Classics or living legends?”

Siobhan high-fived the dude beside her. Behind them, I saw money changing hands.

“Good answer.” Noah patted me on the back. “You passed stage one. Your prize is a visit to my office where we can have some peace and quiet.”

Noah’s office was no less chaotic than the hallway. Books, boxes, CDs, clothes, papers, and stacks of old magazines littered every surface. Not a single inch of his desk was visible, and the only two chairs were covered with concert posters from the ’80s.

“I’ll get those out of your way,” Noah said, carefully liftingthem from the chair. “We’ve got over one hundred shows on the air: news, social voices, critical analysis, cooking, comedy, environment, politics… but music is what we do best. Do you like music?”

“Yes, I—”

“Name a band you think I haven’t heard.”

“Angerfist.” It was still in my brain from the night I met Dante at the bar.

Noah stilled and studied me with interest. “Someone just mentioned that band to me the other day. How curious. Do you believe in coincidence?”

“No.”

“Me neither.” He waved me to the chair and raised his voice to a shout. “Everyone eavesdropping outside my office, disperse. When I’ve picked our intern, I’ll let you know.” He settled behind his desk and put up his feet. “We’re family here. Everyone wants a say when we bring in the new interns. Sometimes they even resort to bribery.” He gestured to an LP on his desk. “1977 The BeatlesWith the Beatlesalbum. I got it a few years ago from one of my volunteers who wanted me to hire his younger sister. I told him I only take bribes if they are factory sealed, but they don’t influence my decision.”

I laughed, and my anxiety eased as we chatted. I told him about the accident and my failed basketball career, my interest in journalism and my love of music. Noah was chill and easy to talk to, especially when we got onto the subject of our favorite bands. He also had a wide range of knowledge—everything from politics to geology and from sports to international relations. I’d never met anyone who was so laid-back and yet so incredibly informed.

I was feeling hopeful when Siobhan walked in and slammed a handful of papers on Noah’s desk. “Chris is sick. He’s in the restroom puking out his guts. Bad sushi at lunch. That’s his show prep. We’re on in ten minutes and we need someone to take his place.”

“Hmmm.” Noah drummed his fingers on the desk, seemingly unconcerned about the crisis at hand. He looked through theopen doorway at the gathering crowd and then his gaze returned to me. “You.”

“Me?” I stiffened in my chair. “I don’t have any live broadcast experience.”

“Don’t worry. Derek will be in the other studio handling the sound board, so all you have to do is talk. He’s not bad. People thought it was funny when he made Siobhan sound like Mickey Mouse.”

“I don’t think…”

“Great.” Siobhan handed me the papers from Noah’s desk. “That’s the show prep. Read it over and put the news stories in your own words. You just need to fill a three-minute news slot.”

I looked at the papers as I stood and a wave of nausea gripped my stomach. After being shuffled through four foster homes as a child, I’d come to believe that there was something inherently wrong with me, that I was just never good enough. Even after I was adopted, I couldn’t shake the fear that unless I was a perfect daughter, my parents would send me away. I carried that fear even after I left home. Failure carried with it the risk of being rejected and unwanted all over again.

“What if I freeze? What if I say something wrong or illegal or—”

“Anything you can think of has already happened on the air,” Noah said. “We’re still here disrupting the radio world, and most of the people who messed up are still alive.” He gave a low chuckle. “Just go with it. Give it your own spin. Make it interesting. But don’t be afraid to fail. We’re a teaching station. No one expects you to get it right your first time out of the blocks.”

“I don’t want to get the station in trouble—”

“I’ll take the board,” said a familiar voice behind me.

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