“We had this discussion a year ago.”
“And was I outraged then, too? Please tell me I was.”
“You were.”
“Good, because that’s ridiculous. But Victoria was right. Apparently you’re not the type of girl who needs an elaborate ask.”
“A sincere one would’ve been nice, though,” I said, repeating what I’d said on the podcast.
“What?” Alana said. “A negative review of something Hunter did? It’s a miracle!”
“Whatever. I just don’t need to witness any more of these invitations today. They’re depressing me.”
I shouldn’t have put a request out in the universe like that, because that school day I got to witness three more people being asked to the Fall Festival. I was relieved that I made it to my last period without permanently damaging my eyes with all the rolling they’d done.
Ms. Lyon stood at the front of the classroom and cleared her throat. “I need your attention and your brains for a minute, class.”
Victoria, who had been telling me about the subtleties of voice inflection, stopped talking and turned toward Ms. Lyon.
“This year we’ve been assigned a booth at the Fall Festival carnival.”
“We have to work a booth?” Victoria cried. “A lot of us will have dates!”
I refrained from rolling my eyes for the millionth time that day.
Ms. Lyon nodded. “Yes, that’s why I wanted to discuss the best options for the night. We can definitely take turns at the booth. Maybe do thirty-minute shifts. But first we need to think of an idea for the booth itself. I’m told dart throw, rope ladder climb, and basketball are already taken.”
“What about that carnival game where people throw quarters on plates?” Mallory suggested.
Ms. Lyon wrote Quarter Toss on the board. “More ideas?”
“Something with water guns?” Jamie called out.
“Frog racing,” Alana offered.
“We’re a podcasting class,” Frank said. “We should do a podcast. Right there at the carnival. With everyone watching.” He raised his eyebrows at me.
Alana, who was sitting beside Frank, elbowed him in the ribs. “A carnival isn’t exactly the best place to record a podcast.”
“No. Wait. It’s a good idea!” Victoria said, brightening. “A live audience. There will be clapping and cheering and a fun energy. We should totally do it.”
A couple of other classmates gave me sideways glances, like I was going to jump out of my chair and protest this idea. I wanted to—a live show sounded like my worst nightmare—but I didn’t do anything. I’d learned Ms. Lyon’s game. She liked to push people to stretch themselves. The more I protested, the more she’d dig in that we had to do a live show. Instead, I’d sit here and pretend like this idea sounded like the best thing in the world.
“Maybe we can gather questions that week during lunch,” Mallory suggested. “If we have a big sealed box, then people can just drop their questions in a slot at the top.”
Ms. Lyon was starting to slowly nod. Uh-oh. That wasn’t a good sign.
“And we can take live questions the night of the carnival, too,” Victoria said.
Alana was still trying to help me. “But the carnival is loud,” she said. “Are we expecting everyone to stop what they’re doing just to listen to our show?”
“We’ll set the show up on the outskirts of the fair,” Ms. Lyon said. “We’ll rope off the area. And we’ll use specific types of microphones that won’t pick up so much surrounding noise.” Her eyes sparkled behind her glasses. “This is a great idea, guys. We’ll have some members of our class present it to the student council for approval. Okay, now back to work.”
A live audience in less than four weeks? I wanted to groan. I wanted to run and hide.
But no. I sat up straighter. I needed to change my attitude. I could do a live show. It would be no different than the class watching me through the glass, right? Plus, I had a few more weeks of our not-live podcast to help me prepare. And I’d listen to more outside podcasts for practice. This would be another chance for me to prove to my parents that I was good at something besides the lake. I’d even invite them to the live show. They could see it for themselves.
After class, Alana and I walked down the hall together. “You okay?” Alana asked.
I nodded.
“Really? Maybe we can ask Ms. Lyon if other people can host that night, since it’s a special night. It would give other people in the class a chance to practice.”
Although part of me wanted to look for a way out, I knew I should try to stick with my plan. “I can handle it,” I told Alana. Then I noticed Diego in the hallway up ahead. “Look,” I whispered to Alana. “There’s Diego. You should go say hi.”
Alana grabbed my hand and squeezed. “I’m staying with you.” She waved to him as we walked past, and he waved back.
“Is my confidence in the podcast scaring you this much?” I asked my friend.
She laughed. “Yes. You should be freaking out right now.”
I didn’t have time to freak out. I had a podcast to master.
“It’s our favorite day of the week,” Victoria said into the mic after we’d finished giving our opening lines.
“Speak for yourself,” I said.
Victoria laughed. “Kat loves all of you, she just has a hard time showing it. But it looks like you guys love us, too, because I’ve been told four callers are waiting on the lines.”
Mallory patched the first one through.
“You’re on Not My Problem,” Victoria said.
The caller came in fast. “My parents favor my younger sister, and I don’t know what to do about it. They are constantly comparing me to her. Asking me why my grades aren’t as good as hers, why I don’t dress as nicely as her, why I don’t want to wear the style of makeup she wears. It’s frustrating and I don’t know how to make them see me as my own person.”
“Have you told them that it frustrates you when they do this stuff?” Victoria asked.
“They get defensive, say that’s not what they’re trying to do. That they are just pointing out things that I can improve on.”
“By using your sister as the measuring stick?” I ask.
“Exactly.”
“That is frustrating,” I said.
“I think she wants real advice, Kat,” Victoria said, “not just an agreement.”
“Oh, right, I’d almost forgotten why people call in.”
The girl laughed a little. “It’s actually nice to hear someone agree with me. I’m so used to having to defend my side against people who don’t.”
“Your friends don’t agree with you?” Victoria asked.
“I don’t really talk to my friends about family drama.”
“Well, there’s your first piece of advice from me,” Victoria said. “You need to vent more. It helps.”
“I agree with Victoria. Venting is validating. Whoa, that was a lot of Vs.” I was learning to just say whatever came into my head. It seemed to work well for the other podcast hosts I’d been listening to lately.
“And just keep trying,” Victoria said. “Hopefully your parents will hear you.”
Advice. Advice. Come on, Kate, you can think of actual advice, not just snark. “Write a letter,” I blurted out. “Sometimes, when someone can read something, without being able to interrupt, they process it better. They don’t get as defensive.”