Page 31 of The Sound of Us

“I don’t follow sports.” I’d never been a big sports fan. Never enjoyed watching the Super Bowl or any other game that meant my dad would spend the afternoon getting drunk and the evening beating on my mom.

“I follow all the sports,” he said. “My goal is to be a news anchor, but I plan to start out as a sportscaster to get my foot in the door. I’m going to be the next Dan Rather. I look great on camera. Any chance of getting my face on the screen during the internship?” He turned from side to side, with a self-mocking smile. “I don’t have a bad side.”

“This is a radio station,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, but c’mon. What about TikTok, Insta, or YouTube? I could be the face of WJPK.”

Skye shifted in her seat, and I shot her a sideways glance. Her hand was covering the lower part of her face, but I could see the corners of her eyes crinkle with laughter.

“We do have a public-facing opportunity coming up…” I pretended to give the idea some serious thought. “You’d get yourpicture in the campus paper. You might even make the local news if you play your cards right.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Chad said, his face brightening. “Where do I sign up?”

“Go find Nick and tell him you want to help out next Friday. He’ll sort you out.”

“What did you send him to do?” Skye asked after Chad had gone.

“The station runs promotional events every week to raise our profile and entice volunteers. They’re running a hot dog stand in the quad next Friday. Nick’s in charge.”

“I’ll go and talk to Nick, too,” Skye said, grabbing her backpack. “I’m happy to help. What about you?”

“I don’t do hot dogs, buttercup.” The name suited her. She made me think of sunshine and flowers. Beautiful and bright.

“I’m not a buttercup.”

“If the apron fits…”

Her laughter warmed me like a familiar song, and after she’d gone, I picked up Nick’s guitar and tried to capture the sound and the feeling of having messed up yet another thing in my life.

I ran through a few options in my mind and decided on Sam Smith’s “Forgive Myself,” a song about self-forgiveness and the struggle to come to terms with one’s own mistakes and flaws. I played the opening chords and started to sing, losing myself in the music until I heard someone sigh.

“That was beautiful.” Skye was standing in the doorway, eyes soft and distant.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” I said lightly, dissembling. Although I was used to performing in public, I felt naked in that moment, stripped of the walls I’d built to keep feelings in and people out.

“No sneaking was involved.” Her lips curved in a gentle smile. “I came back for my water bottle, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“OMG. Dante! Was that you?” Molly pushed past Skye andwalked into the lounge with Rose behind her. “I could hear you down the hallway.”

“Molly and I are doing a group project together,” I explained as Molly joined me on the couch. “She and Rose wanted to see the station.”

“Dante’s not a group project kind of guy.” Molly patted my knee in a gesture that was more possessive than friendly. “He thought it would be more efficient if he just did it himself. But we’re bringing him around.”

“So, you’re a control freak.” Skye grabbed her water bottle and moved to the door. “Is that why you don’t do hot dog stands? Too much socializing with people; not enough hands on the wieners?”

Laughter burst from my chest, so unexpected it startled me. There hadn’t been much laughter in my life until I’d met Skye. “Did you really go there?”

“Yes.” Her gaze dropped to Molly’s hand on my leg and her smile faded. “You seem to bring out my bad side.”

“I didn’t know you had a bad side.”

Skye turned in the doorway. “Neither did I.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN“Wonder” by Shawn MendesSKYE

“Avoidance…”Haley read from her online psychology textbook, raising her voice above the clatter in the fast-food restaurant where we’d met for our weekly Thursday lunch. She’d managed to find a booth at the very back with windows overlooking the dumpster-filled alley. A perfect metaphor for my life.

“… the practice of keeping away from a particular individual named Dante because of the anticipated negative consequence of such an encounter or having anxious feelings about talking to him because he’s so hot.”

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