Page 26 of The Sound of Us

“Raj is the obvious choice.” Siobhan sat in the chair closest to Noah’s desk. “Six-time winner of the John Drury High School Radio Award, president of his high school radio club, and two years working at his local radio station before he came to Havencrest.”

“Is that the dude who didn’t know the difference between a bass and a six-string guitar?”

“At least he didn’t go off on a rant about drunk drivers during the on-air test like Skye…” Siobhan snorted a laugh. “Talk about OTT.”

“Skye gave an interesting commentary about that drunk-driving developer,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and even. “She did what journalists are supposed to do.”

“Why are you defending her? Journalists are supposed to report facts, not opinions, and especially not opinions that are not backed up by facts, and double especially not in a voice dripping with emotion. Raj, on the other hand, was pure professionalism.”

“I haven’t made any final decisions,” Noah said behind us. “Let’s not jump the gun.”

“I asked Raj his favorite band and he told me it was Limp Bizkit,” I said, angling to get in at least one dig at the otherwise perfect candidate.

“Noooo.” All three of us were momentarily united in our disdain for the whole “nu metal” genre which had dated very quickly.

“Despite his one flaw, he’s the best candidate,” Siobhan said. “Skye won’t fit in. She’s a sports person.”

“So is the intern we hired at the end of last semester,” Noah said. “Chad is on the soccer team. He read the news like a sportscaster. And you were happy with my choice even though his favorite band is Nickelback.”

We all groaned again. Nickelback made almost every top ten list of Most Hated Bands.

“He’s Canadian,” Siobhan said. “It’s in their DNA.”

“I didn’t fit in, and Noah gave me a chance.” I was taking a risk backing Skye, but I had a strong feeling Noah already knew she was the person I’d been talking about when I first brought up the funding.

Siobhan laughed, but there was something brittle about the sound. “Are you kidding me? You are the living, breathing epitome of an indie radio DJ. You know everything about every indie band that ever existed. You can put playlists together in your sleep, go on air with no prep, and get ratings so high we need to request extra phone lines to deal with all your fans. You’re in an indie band. You play, speak, and dress indie radio. Your problem, Dante, is that you do fit in, and you just can’t accept it.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Siobhan had a way of seeing right through me and it was annoying as hell.

“And I didn’t ask for you to suddenly show up and get involved in staffing decisions when you haven’t taken an interest in what goes on here in years,” she snapped, finally revealing the reason for her rant.

“Let’s put a pin in yet another heated debate,” Noah said, holding up his hand in a placating gesture. “We have several good candidates: Julie, Pavel, Roman… I also liked Raj. He’s got the most radio experience, but he doesn’t know much about music. Skye has no broadcast experience, but we had a great conversation, and she knows her bands.”

“We already have a Sporty Spice intern,” Siobhan protested. “We need some variety.”

“Skye doesn’t do sports anymore.” Noah’s face softened. “She suffered serious injuries in a car accident that took the life of her father, and she lost her place on the basketball team.”

“Oh God…” Siobhan groaned. “Your heart is bleeding again.”

“I like to take the whole person into consideration when I’m choosing an intern,” Noah said. “Not just the parts that meet the criteria for the job. Leave it with me. I’ll pick the best candidate, as I always do.”

“Why did you call us in?” I had a feeling Noah was going to go with Siobhan’s choice, and I wanted to move on from the conversation in case I tipped my hand by pushing for Skye.

Noah sighed. “The university is moving ahead with its plans to repurpose our space, and I’m going to need all-hands-on-deck to save the station.”

“Can they do that?” Siobhan’s eyes widened in horror. “The station has been operating from the basement for over fifty years.”

“It’s their property. They are running out of space and it’s easier to repurpose than put up new buildings.” Noah slumped in his chair. He’d worked straight through the summer without a break, and it showed. Wrinkles had appeared at the corners of his eyes and mouth, making him look older than his fifty-five years.

“Aside from the fact that I’d be out of a job,” he continued, “I don’t want to see the university lose one of the best campus radio stations in the country. No one does the kind of programming we do. No one gives as much airtime to diverse voices, disruptors, and new bands. We need to make the university realize just what they would be losing.”

“What’s your plan?” Noah always had a plan. He came across as chill and relaxed, but that was only because he’d already looked ahead to what had to be done.

“I’m going to turn my focus to raising our profile. That means more time on the road and less time managing the station. We’re going to be relying heavily on our volunteers and I need everyone to pitch in. We need to work as a team.”

I sensed this was going somewhere I didn’t want to go. “And you need us…?”

“To lead by example.” Noah fixed me with a firm stare. “Except for the paid employees, you, Nick, and Siobhan are the most senior volunteers at the station. Starting tomorrow, I am going to strictly enforce the ten-hour weekly volunteer requirement. I can’t give you special treatment without starting down a slippery slope.”

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