“Seriously, Diego, this isn’t funny. Please turn it off.”
“But I want to listen.”
“No, I forbid it.” I had his sleeve now and I knew he wasn’t taking me seriously because I was laughing, too. It was my nervous laugh, but a laugh just the same. How was anyone supposed to take me seriously when I laughed? Our collective laughter made it impossible to hear the podcast. But not impossible to hear the bell on the front door as it opened.
“Alana,” Diego said, and I whirled around.
“Am I missing a good game?” Alana asked.
In the new silence, my voice sounded from Diego’s phone. “Having to host a podcast when I don’t like people very much.”
“You don’t like people?” Diego asked me.
“Only the ones that try to talk to her,” Alana answered for me.
“Please turn it off,” I said. This time my sincerity was obvious.
Diego lowered his phone and pressed the screen. The room went still.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I brought you back your math book, Kate,” Alana said. “I dropped it off in your car.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She hadn’t borrowed my math book. Apparently that was the really good excuse she was going with.
“Ooh, fashion.” Alana sat down, propped her feet on the coffee table, and started looking through the magazine.
“Two questions,” Diego said as I backed out from behind the counter and took a seat next to Alana. “One, why do you feel like the podcast was a failure? And two, I thought you hated to be called Kat?”
“I do. All the times I corrected Victoria were edited out. And the podcast was a failure because hardly anybody called in.”
Tommy yelled out from the back like he’d somehow been able to follow along with our conversation. “Just keep being funny and people will call in.”
My cheeks went pink from his praise.
Alana casually stood, most likely to get a look at Tommy, but pretending it was to examine the art on the walls.
“Oh, really?” she mumbled when she sat back down. “Maybe that finger is about to come off the hook, after all?”
I answered just as quietly back, “No. Liza is crushing on him. He’s off-limits.”
“Anonymity,” Diego said.
“What?” both Alana and I asked at the same time, turning our attention away from our private conversation and back to him.
“People aren’t going to call in with personal problems if there’s a chance the listeners will know who they are,” Diego said, leaning his elbows on the counter. “I mean, I guess some people might. But you’ll have a bigger chance at success if people can be anonymous.”
“He’s right,” Alana said.
Of course he was, and I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t thought of that. Even Alana, the most outgoing person ever, had tried to disguise her identity when she called in. Part of it was that she didn’t want the class to know she was bailing me out, but it was also because she didn’t want everyone in the world to hear her problems … well, my problems.
“You’re right,” I said. “That’s a great idea.”
“Yes, it is,” he said with a smirk. “You’re welcome.”
Anonymity. Like when people didn’t put their real identities on their posts online. “Email,” I said. “We need to let listeners email in, too. Some people don’t like to talk on air, right?”
Diego nodded. “That’s true. Email would help.”
“Ms. Lyon is going to be impressed with our practical ideas.” Alana freed a food magazine from the stack on the table. “Ooh. I love to cook.”
“Me too,” Diego said.
“Really?” she asked.
Diego’s eyes went to me like he was wondering if I had told her this about him. I had, of course.
“Cool,” Alana went on smoothly. “We’ll have to exchange tips sometime.”
“Like in a cook-off,” I said.
She gave me a warning look, like she was working up to that.
“Is that a challenge?” Diego asked.
“Yes, it is,” Alana said.
Diego grinned at her. “You’re on.”
Tommy and Liza appeared from around the counter. Tommy said, “If people are cooking, I can be available to do the eating.”
“Ditto,” I said.
Tommy pointed at me. “Kat and I will be eating partners.”
“It’s Kate,” Diego said before I could.
“How come it’s Kat on the podcast, then?” Tommy asked.
I sighed. “Long story.”
“I like ‘Kat,’ ” Tommy said. “It’s edgy and makes you sound sure of yourself. It fits your on-air personality.”
“You think?” I asked.
“Absolutely.”
“I agree,” Alana said. “You should definitely keep Kat for the podcast. Kat is snarky and sarcastic. ‘Kate’ doesn’t fit that persona as well.”
Liza hadn’t joined us by the coffee table yet, just stood by Tommy, staring up at him with dreamy eyes.
“What do you think, Liza?” I asked.
“I agree with Tommy. Kat is cool.”
Diego didn’t give his opinion and I didn’t ask for it. I’d always hated the name Kat. But I kind of hated the podcast, too. Maybe they fit together.
“Okay, time to go,” I said.
Alana picked up her backpack and glanced around. “Since I am at a tutoring center, do either of you guys have a minute to help me with an algebra problem I can’t get through?”
“I can help,” Diego said, sliding down the counter to make room for Alana. She sidled up next to him with her book, their shoulders touching. Diego didn’t move away. And that’s how I left Alana alone with Diego. He’d fall for her before they could even solve for X.
I sat on the dock at the marina, wiping down WaveRunner number four with a soapy sponge. My phone was tucked into my board shorts and my earbuds were firmly in place. I was fifteen minutes into the First Dates podcast Alana had recommended I listen to, and I’d laughed approximately fifty times. That was about three times a minute. No wonder Alana had wanted me to listen to this podcast—it was good. And I needed to get better.
I was going to get better. Mainly to prove everyone wrong. My parents thought I was only choosing the lake and marina because it was easy? So I’d get better at the podcast and prove to them that I would still choose the lake. That way, they’d realize I knew exactly what I wanted, no matter what I was good at.
“I figure if I go on a first date once a week,” Samantha, one of the hosts, was saying, “I can save approximately a hundred dollars a month in food.”
“You never pay?” Tami (the other host) asked.
“I offer to pay for the second date. That saves me even more money.”
“Why?” Tami asked.
“Because I rarely have second dates.”
I giggled. The First Dates podcast, while making me feel worse about my podcasting ability, was making me feel slightly better about my dating life. And with my feet dangling in the lake, I always felt better. “I like this strategy,” Tami said. “How has this not come up before?”