Listen to Your Heart

by Kasie West

  “I have no idea what just happened.”

  “I made my presence known but then made it clear I hadn’t been walking over there to talk to him.”

  “Who was that other guy?” I asked.

  “Bennett. You don’t know Bennett?”

  “I’ve heard of him. Never met him.”

  “Back to my city versus lake theory.”

  It wasn’t that I wasn’t social … well, okay, it was a little bit that.

  “I blame this all on Hunter,” Alana continued, taking a bite of her sandwich. “He hoarded you to himself for nine months and then had the audacity to move.”

  I played with my straw. “He didn’t want to move. He had to because, you know, his whole family was moving and without them he was kind of homeless. But I’m over Hunter. That was last year. Why are you bringing up things that are in the past?” I asked.

  That might have sounded a little defensive considering I had been checking Hunter’s online statuses all day—a pic of him eating popcorn for breakfast; a pic of a sign that said Everything is bigger in Texas; and a pic of a stack of textbooks.

  “Because Hunter is the most recent thing I can bring up,” Alana pointed out. “Your love life has been as dry as these pine needles.” She kicked a pile of rust-colored pine needles by our feet.

  I put down my smoothie. “I haven’t found anyone as interesting as Hunter.”

  “As interesting as Hunter?” Alana smirked. “That guy could put babies to sleep just by sitting there.”

  I bristled. I didn’t think Hunter was boring. He was mellow. And quiet. “I like mellow and quiet.”

  “How is this mellow, quiet guy going to find you is the question,” Alana said, raising her eyebrows. “You post just enough online to prove you exist but are vague enough that nobody ever gets to know who you are.”

  I was private. There was nothing wrong with that. “I don’t know, there’s a thing called talking,” I pointed out.

  “You? Going out of your way to talk to someone? Huh. Well, maybe you can listen to my podcast to learn tips.” She grinned.

  I laughed. “Okay. And I’ll tell you when I find someone interesting.”

  The sound of a throat clearing had me whirling to my right.

  Diego stood there. Had he heard that entire exchange?

  “Hey, Alana. You dropped this earlier.” He held up a key on a silver surfboard key chain.

  Alana, obviously not prepared for this encounter, stuttered out, “I—I … oh,” without taking the key.

  Not as flustered as Alana, I smiled. “You are a lifesaver,” I said. “She would’ve had to climb in her second-story window without this. Not that she hasn’t done that before.”

  Alana recovered quickly, stood up, and held out her hand. “I’m very practiced at that climb.” This was true. Alana had been locked out of her house more times than I could count. It used to be because her parents hadn’t made her a key and the keyless entry on the garage door was broken. Now that she had a key, she usually forgot it.

  “Maybe you should put your key somewhere more secure.” Diego placed the key in Alana’s palm and then closed each one of her fingers over it. His hand gripped her closed fist for a beat before he let go.

  Alana lifted one side of her mouth into a half smile. “Yes, I need a better system.” She put her key into her pocket.

  Wow, they were both really good at flirting.

  “I don’t think I’ve met you before,” Diego said, probably feeling me staring at them.

  “Oh.” Alana placed a hand on his arm. “This is my best friend, Kathryn. Lakesprings zip code. Kate, this is Diego.”

  “Hi,” I said, not sure what more I could add to that single word.

  “Do you go by Kathryn or Kate?” Diego asked me.

  “Both, weirdly enough.”

  “Kathryn has lots of variations.”

  “Kate’s the only other one I like,” I informed him, perhaps a little too emphatically.

  “Got it.”

  “Oh, look!” Alana said. “There’s your brother, Kate. We were looking for him. We have to go.” She turned and walked casually in the direction of my brother.

  “Um … sorry,” I said to Diego, feeling like Alana left a little too suddenly. I gathered our lunch stuff and shoved it in a brown paper bag. “We have to …” I stood up and pointed toward Max.

  “Off to search for someone interesting?” he asked with a wink. So he had heard our exchange before. No wonder Alana liked him. He was as confident as she was.

  “Yes … I mean no. It was nice to meet you.”

  “You too.”

  I caught up to Alana. “What was that?” I whispered.

  “Trust the master,” she said as we kept walking toward Max. “I had to be the one to leave first.”

  “Okay. And the dropping your house key thing?”

  She smiled, and I realized Diego’s surprise appearance had really been part of her plan. She was good.

  We made our way to where my brother, in his too-baggy jeans and overgrown brown hair, was walking down the path toward the library.

  “Maximillian!” Alana called, and flung her arm around his shoulder.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Whatcha doin’?” I asked.

  “Returning this book to the library.” He held up a book about programming.

  “You’re returning a library book the second day of school? Did you check this out the first day of school?” Alana asked.

  “Yes. It’s not what I thought it was.”

  “The first clue should’ve been these numbers on the front,” Alana said. “You might want to find the books with dragons or swords on the cover.”

  “I hadn’t considered that,” Max said, straight-faced, and I smiled.

  “I think your brother is mocking me,” Alana told me. “Freshmen aren’t allowed to mock upperclassmen. It’s in the handbook. But I’ll let you get away with it because you’re adorable.”

  Max blushed. “Much obliged,” he said. Then he stopped at the door to the library. “Are you guys going to follow me in here?”

  “Are we embarrassing you, Maxie?” I asked.

  “Yeah, kind of.”

  “Really?” Alana said. “Two hot juniors hanging out with you is embarrassing?”

  “One is my sister.”

  I stepped back and pulled Alana with me. “We’ll leave you alone to go meet your friends in the library. Have fun.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “Your brother is funny,” Alana said after the door swung shut behind him. “If I were a freshman, I’d be hanging out with my older brother and his friend all the time.”

  “You don’t have an older brother.”

  “This is a hypothetical situation I’m using to prove a point.”

  “Maybe we’re just not as cool as we think we are.” I linked my arm through Alana’s and led us away.

  “Impossible,” she said. Then she brightened and added, “I think I am going to submit dating dos and don’ts as my podcast idea.”

  “You should.” And given what had happened with Diego, she’d be the perfect host for that topic as well. “I bet that will win.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “I think it might.”

  “And the winning topic is …” Ms. Lyon paused dramatically.

  It was Monday again. The first week of school had been uneventful, except for podcasting class, where we got to hear about all the different aspects of producing a podcast. It was surprisingly fascinating. Over the weekend, we’d had to vote online for the topic. I’d happily voted for Alana’s “dating dos and don’ts” idea.

  So I was stunned when Ms. Lyon took her marker and wrote Advice Show across the dry-erase board.

  “Kathryn Bailey, please stand.”

  I bit my lip and slowly rose to my feet.

  “Congratulations! Your idea earned the most votes from the class.”

  “Uh, thanks,” I said, feeling my face flush pink.

  �
�What I didn’t tell you all when giving you this assignment,” Ms. Lyon continued, adjusting her glasses and smiling, “was that the person who submits the winning topic will automatically be one of the hosts.”

  “What?” I blurted out. “No. I can’t.”

  Ms. Lyon laughed. “You are in a podcasting class, Kathryn. You didn’t think you might have to do some speaking?”

  It hadn’t even crossed my mind. “I think other people would do better at that particular part of the process.” My heart raced. I wasn’t qualified to give advice to anyone.

  “Like me,” Victoria said.

  “Yes, like Victoria,” I agreed. “She should do it.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” Ms. Lyon said. “Because Victoria will be your cohost.”

  Victoria smiled triumphantly.

  My eyes locked with Alana’s. She looked hurt.

  “Or Alana,” I said quickly. “Alana would be an excellent host.”

  “I’ve already assigned all the jobs,” Ms. Lyon explained, picking up a sheet of paper from her desk. “I will post them on the board momentarily. Once I have, please, in an orderly manner, come check them out. Then look for the corresponding binder on the back table. Two people are assigned to each task. Our first show will be Wednesday after school. This is so exciting!” With a flourish, she used a magnet to stick the piece of paper to the board.

  I was still on my feet but I didn’t move as the rest of the class stood and jostled around me. Nobody said anything as they made their way to the list. Not even Alana. Something lit a fire in me and I pushed my way through the class.

  “I really think you picked the wrong student,” I told Ms. Lyon when I reached her. “I only got the idea for this topic because Alana gave some great advice to my cousin. Alana is good at advice. I’d like a different assignment, please.”

  Ms. Lyon shook her head. “Kathryn, the harder you fight me on this the more I realize it’s exactly what you need to do. You obviously applied to this class for a reason.”

  Was Alana forced me to a reason she would understand?

  “But I wanted to learn about behind-the-scenes stuff,” I explained. “Maybe the hosts can switch after two weeks like the rest of the jobs do?”

  Ms. Lyon shook her head. “Sorry, but hosting has to be consistent for the listeners. You know it’s the one job that doesn’t get to switch. But you’ll learn about every element of podcasting in class along with the others.” She glanced past me. “Now, it looks like Victoria already has your binder. I need you two to get to know each other so you can work well together on air.”

  There was something about Ms. Lyon’s stance and the firm set of her jaw that let me know I wasn’t going to talk my way out of this.

  I slumped and turned around, catching sight of Alana. She had her binder and was sitting next to Frank Young. Did that mean he was her partner? This was getting worse and worse.

  I rushed over to my best friend. “What did you get assigned?”

  “I start with marketing,” she said, flipping through the binder.

  “With him?” I asked, under my breath.

  “He has a name and you know it,” Frank said.

  Frank was the kind of guy who might have been cute if not for his personality. His blue eyes looked sleepy in a laid-back way and he had one of those dimples in his chin. His nose was larger than average and crooked, but that gave him a rugged look. He wore his brown hair short around the ears but long and full on top.

  “I try to forget your name daily,” I said.

  “It’s the name that’s going to be on your marina soon so it will be easier to remember.”

  My insides boiled. “You wish.”

  Alana held up her hand. “Stop,” she said. “Yes, I’m paired with Frank. Did you see this lovely contract in the binders that we have to sign? It basically says that even though Frank is a jerk, I have to get along with him.”

  “I’m the jerk?” he said, narrowing his eyes.

  Alana scrunched her lips to the side as if actually thinking about that question. “Yes.”

  Frank had proven his jerk-hood many times. But fighting over this in class wasn’t going to get any of us anywhere, so I swallowed my words like I often did to keep the peace.

  “Marketing?” I said instead.

  “We’re in charge of the podcast’s social media accounts and trying to get people to call the phone lines while we’re recording,” Alana explained.

  “You’ll be good at that,” I said.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “I’m sorry.” I knew that despite her smile, she was disappointed. “You know I don’t want to host.”

  “I know. It’s okay, though. You’ll do a good job.”

  “I’ll do a horrible job and we both know it.”

  She let out a little laugh. “You’ll be fine, Kate.”

  Frank scoffed beside her.

  “Shut it, Frank. She will,” Alana said. Then she turned back to me. “You better get over there before your partner has a coronary.” She nodded her head toward Victoria.

  I looked over to where Victoria sat, holding up the binder and waving it at me. “If I could give you my job, I would,” I whispered to Alana.

  “I know. But there’s nothing you could’ve done. Go figure out how you’re going to work with Victoria and I’ll stay over here and try to figure out how I’m going to work with this.” She smacked Frank’s arm and he looked up from where he had disappeared into his phone.

  “What?” he asked.

  Alana rolled her eyes at me. “Wish me luck.”

  I scrunched my nose. “Me too.”

  I didn’t know much about Victoria aside from the fact that she was a senior, that she’d studied every episode of past podcasts, and that she apparently binged other podcasts all the time. So she was basically an expert. I sat down in the desk next to her.

  “Finally,” she said.

  “Hi. I’m Kathryn.”

  “Kathryn? Hmmm. We’ll have to work on that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She pointed at the first page in the binder. “We need to come up with a catchy name for the show and after the name we always say, ‘with your hosts, Victoria’ ”—she pointed at herself—“ ‘and’ … you.”

  “Kathryn.”

  “I think ‘Victoria and Kathryn’ is too much of a mouthful. We should shorten your name. ‘Victoria and Kat.’ ”

  “I don’t go by Kat.”

  “Why?”

  Mainly because people couldn’t help but add “kitty” before it. “I’m just not a Kat personality. I can do Kate if you’re looking for one syllable.”

  “ ‘Victoria and Kate,’ ” she said, trying it on for size.

  “ ‘Vic and Kate’?” I offered.

  “Ew. No,” she said, dismissing that idea with a flick of her hand. “Victoria and Kate. That works.”

  “Okay.”

  “And what should the show be called?” Victoria asked, jotting down a note. “Maybe something like ‘Bring Us Your Problems.’ ”

  I felt overwhelmed. “I didn’t think this idea would even be picked!” I blurted. “I mean, what qualifies us to solve anyone’s problems?”

  Ms. Lyon must’ve been standing close by because she answered my question. “Absolutely nothing. In fact, you’ll need to read a disclaimer at the beginning of each show explaining how you’re not licensed therapists, these opinions are just opinions, etc., etc.”

  I nodded.

  “Ms. Lyon?” Victoria asked. “What do you think of calling the show ‘Bring Us Your Problems’?”

  Our teacher tilted her head to the side. “I think it can be edgier. Shorter.”

  “Like ‘Not My Problem,’ ” I said quietly, offhand.

  Ms. Lyon pointed at me. “Yes, I love it. That’s it.”

  “Oh. Um, okay,” I said, surprised. I’d never intended for any of my ideas to be so popular.

  Victoria curled her lip. “Won’t that discourage peop
le from calling? If we tell them it’s not our problem?”

  “You’ll figure it out,” Ms. Lyon said, and walked on to a different group.

  Victoria tapped her pen on her notebook while staring at me and I realized she was waiting for me to figure out the conundrum I’d created with my title.

  “What if we ask the listeners what issues they have that have been greeted with the words ‘not my problem’?” I suggested.

  “Good idea,” Victoria admitted grudgingly. She jotted down another note. I realized I should probably be taking notes as well, and I grabbed my notebook from my bag.

  “So obviously I’ll be the lead host,” Victoria said. “Since I’m the senior and you didn’t even want to do this. You can chime in during the show with things to back up what I’m saying.”

  That actually sounded like something I might be able to handle. “Okay.”

  “Maybe there are problems you can each specialize in based on your experiences.” Ms. Lyon’s voice sounded from over my head. How did she keep appearing out of thin air? I turned around to look at her but she was already gone.

  “That’s kind of creepy,” I said. Alana would’ve agreed, and laughed with me about it.

  Victoria just said, “What is?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Anyway, I’m older, so I might have more experience in most areas. What problems might people call in about?” Victoria asked.

  “Um …” I tried to think of things I’d listened to friends and family complain about in the past. “Parents, maybe?”

  “True. Are your parents still married?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll mark myself as the expert on parent problems. Mine are divorced and it was ugly.”

  “Okay.”

  “Relationship problems will be high on the list. Advice about love and all that. How many relationships have you had?”

  “Just one,” I said, blushing and thinking of Hunter.

  “Okay, me again.” She put her name down.

  “I can give good advice about the lake,” I piped up.

  “The lake? You think people will want advice about the lake?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe? Like the best time of day to visit or where to take a date or …”

  I could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t think anyone would ever need advice about the lake, but she said, “Sure,” and wrote it down on her paper. “I play basketball and run track. So sports advice is all me.”