Listen to Your Heart

by Kasie West

  “Oh, hey. You work today? I just swung by to keep Kate company.”

  “That’s nice of you,” he said.

  “You know me.”

  I gave a scoff, and she shot me a look over her shoulder.

  “Are these your tutoring subjects for the day?” Alana asked, gesturing to the kids.

  “My sister just dropped them off.”

  “Oh, you run a babysitting service here, too?” she asked. She was good.

  He moved back up to the front, probably so he could speak more quietly. “Not technically. They’re really not supposed to be here.”

  “Do you know who’s amazing with kids?” Alana asked.

  Diego’s eyes shifted to me, still sitting there like some third wheel.

  “No,” Alana said, obviously noticing, too. “Well, I mean, she is because she has like a thousand cousins, but I was speaking about myself.”

  He smiled at her.

  “I can take them next door to get a cookie or something?” Alana offered. “I think they have one of those quarter-operated rides as well.”

  I coughed instead of pointing out that the children were probably way too big for one of those.

  “They might’ve outgrown that three years ago,” Diego said.

  “You never outgrow a quarter-operated horse ride.” Alana recovered gracefully, as usual.

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Diego told her.

  “Why not? We’re friends, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Friends do stuff like this for each other all the time. Right, Kate?”

  “Yep. I rode a quarter-operated horse for her just the other day.”

  Liza walked around the counter with Tommy, and I stood.

  “You done?” I asked my cousin.

  She nodded. “Thanks, Tommy,” she said.

  When Tommy saw me, he held out his fist. I assumed that meant I was supposed to bump it with mine. I complied.

  “Your podcast is awesome,” he said. “You are very funny.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I should call in and ask about something.”

  “Do you have a problem?” I asked.

  “No, but I want to hear how my voice sounds through that voice disguiser thing you have on the phones. You wouldn’t even know it was me. I could make up some really good problem.”

  Liza giggled.

  I wasn’t about to tell him that I’d definitely know it was him. That the “disguise” was added in after the fact. “Yes, you should call in. It would be fun.”

  He bit his lip as if trying to think of a problem he would call in with right then.

  I inched for the door and glanced toward Alana to make sure she didn’t need her wingwoman any longer. She and Diego were still talking.

  “See you later,” I said. “Bye, Alana, Diego.”

  They both looked over. “Bye, Kate,” Alana said. She was glowing.

  “Bye, guys,” Diego said. “See you next Monday, Liza.”

  “Or at school,” she called to him. “You know I’m in high school.”

  “Oh, right. Of course,” he said.

  I tried not to laugh. She’d obviously said that for Tommy’s sake. We walked outside, and Liza looked over at me. “Alana and Diego, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “They’re cute together.”

  “I agree.”

  She linked her arm through mine. “Thanks for being such a good cousin and taking me to tutoring, but I think I’m good now.”

  “You’re done with tutoring?”

  “No, I think I can handle it on my own from here on out. My mom can drop me off.”

  “Oh.”

  She smiled, then skipped to the car. I didn’t know why I was so disappointed by this pronouncement.

  Wednesday, after school, I saw Frank heading for the recording studio. I weaved my way through the crush of bodies in the hallway, trying to reach him before he got into the room. He hadn’t been in podcasting class today but he was obviously showing up for lab. He had just reached the door when I finally caught up with him.

  “That’s what you call a truce?” I asked. The words had been stewing in my chest for too long now. Maybe I should’ve just confronted him after lab. I had this notion that this would be more private. It didn’t feel private, as my outburst made several heads turn.

  “What do you mean?” he said calmly, reaching for the knob on the door.

  I took him by the arm and dragged him around the first corner and beneath the stairs.

  “If you wanted to be alone with me, Kitty Kat, all you had to do was ask.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” I lowered my voice. “Why did you do it?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “I’m too tired for this. I literally just got back from a five-hour bus ride,” he said. “What? What is it that I’m supposed to know?”

  Even if he wasn’t involved in the actual “prank” on my marina, his family would’ve heard about the report we filed. The fact that he was playing innocent just irritated me more. “Did you think it was funny? Was it supposed to be some truce joke?”

  “Oh, is this about the pictures? Talk to Alana about those.”

  “The pictures?” I asked, my anger making way for confusion.

  “On the website. Of you and Victoria.”

  “There are pictures on the website of me and Victoria?”

  “Like I said, talk to Alana.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Are we done here?”

  “What? No, no, we are not done here. I’m talking about the stunt you pulled at the marina Saturday morning.”

  His expression was utterly clueless. He was either the world’s best actor or telling the truth. Was he telling the truth?

  “Look, here’s Alana now. Take up the picture issue with her,” he said as if this was still about the pictures. He reached out and pulled Alana in to join us.

  “Ooh, a secret rendezvous under the stairs,” she said. “What are we talking about?”

  “Tell Kate the pictures were your idea,” Frank said.

  “You told her?” Alana asked.

  “She already knew,” he said.

  “I did not know!” I cried. “I still don’t know.”

  “Don’t kill me,” Alana said. She linked one arm through mine and one through Frank’s and led us back toward the recording studio.

  “I’m not done with him.” We walked a few more steps, then I said, “Wait, what pictures?”

  “We put your picture and Victoria’s picture on the website. We thought it added a personal touch.”

  “Which pictures?”

  “Your school picture,” Alana said.

  “The world’s worst picture of me?”

  “We also added a candid Frank took while you guys were recording the podcast last week.”

  “Consider it our gift to you,” Frank said smugly.

  “I’m kind of tired of your gifts,” I mumbled as we walked through the door.

  The recording studio looked different. It took me a minute to understand why. We had all new equipment. I hadn’t realized podcasting class had the budget for that. Maybe one of the other classes had upgraded it.

  Ms. Lyon clapped her hands. “Everyone, have a seat before we begin.”

  We sat around the room where we could. There were only eight of us, so between the couch and the rolling chairs there were just enough seats.

  “You’ll notice the upgrade to the equipment. This was donated thanks to our new sponsor.”

  “Sponsor?” Victoria asked.

  “Yes,” Ms. Lyon said. “Kat, I have a little ad that you will read along with your disclaimer from now on.”

  “Okay, cool.”

  “It’s on the iPad.” Ms. Lyon couldn’t have looked more pleased. “This just proves that our show is a hit and that businesses are recognizing that.”

  That was pretty cool. Vic
toria and I walked through the door and shut ourselves behind it.

  Victoria started off as normal. “Welcome, listeners, to another episode of Not My Problem. Another week, another set of problems. And we want to hear them. Don’t we, Kat?”

  “I have nowhere else to be,” I said.

  She laughed and handed me the iPad.

  I took the iPad and gave the intro I knew from memory. “As I always say, we are not professionals. If you have a real problem, call 911 or refer to any of our emergency numbers listed on our website.” Then I glanced down at the words I was supposed to read. “ ‘We’d also like to thank the sponsor of our podcast, Young Industries.’ ” I coughed on the surprise of that announcement, then tried to recover so Frank didn’t gloat any more than he probably already was. “ ‘The number one leader in development and services in Lakesprings, Young Industries has been serving the community for over fifty years and thanks you for your continued support.’ ”

  I refused to meet Frank’s eyes through the glass. Had he requested that I be the one to say that? Was I going to have to say that every week? Ms. Lyon had acted like some random business had recognized the quality of our podcast and come forward. But Frank’s dad wasn’t some random person. His son was in the podcasting class. This had nothing to do with our show being a hit.

  “Yes, thank you, Young Industries,” Victoria said as I handed her back the iPad.

  “Lots of email love for the show,” Jamie said from the other room. “Do we want to read any praise on air?”

  Ms. Lyon nodded and pointed to the iPad. Victoria pulled up a waiting email. The subject line read “Love.”

  “We’re going to read a few emails from our listeners now,” Victoria said. “ ‘Hello, Victoria and Kat. I love your show. I especially loved the guy who called in about the conflict he had between school responsibilities and love. He was so sweet and sincere. Where can I find a guy like that?’ ”

  “Good question,” I said.

  “I think it was a rhetorical question,” Victoria said.

  “Was it, though?”

  Victoria read through several other emails that all basically said the same thing before saying, “We completely agree with all of you. We adore Mr. Looking for Love as well.”

  “Is that the name we’re going with for him?” I asked.

  “I thought it was catchy,” she shot back. “Alliteration and all that.”

  “Let this be a warning to you, listeners: If you don’t name yourself on our show, we get to name you … with alliteration.”

  Victoria giggled. “It’s true.”

  “Looks like we have some callers waiting,” I said.

  Victoria nodded toward Mallory, and she clicked the first call through.

  “You’re on Not My Problem, we’re listening,” Victoria said.

  “I want to wear whatever I want to school,” the caller said. “Why do we even have dress codes?”

  “What specifically do you want to wear that you can’t?” Victoria asked.

  “Pajamas.”

  “We can’t wear pajamas to school?” I asked. I’d never really read through the dress code in the student manual so that detail was a surprise to me.

  “We can’t,” the caller said. “I got dress-coded for it yesterday.”

  “How did they know they were pajamas?” Victoria asked.

  “Because it was plaid flannel pants and a tank top.”

  “All I can say is that if you don’t want a dress code anymore, you have to take that up with the PTA and the school board,” Victoria said. “Showing up to school in your pajamas, unfortunately, isn’t going to change anything.”

  “What do you think, Kat?” the caller asked.

  What did I think? I was feeling more comfortable on air, getting braver and doing better. But I still rarely voiced my opinion. Being a good podcast host would require doing that from time to time. So I took a deep breath and said what I thought. “I agree. I know they have council meetings. Go to one of those in your pajamas, do some math problems, show them that wearing your pajamas doesn’t impede your learning. Then hope for the best.”

  The caller sighed like this was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn’t argue our logic.

  “Thanks for listening,” she said, and was gone.

  I smiled over at Alana, thinking if anyone would agree with dress code issues, it would be her, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was writing something in a notebook that was on the table between her and Frank. I hoped it said something like, Did our show really need a sponsor or did you do that just so you could hear Kate praise your company? Oh, and by the way, tell the truth about breaking into Kate’s marina.

  Victoria looked at me. “Listeners, I think I see a smile on Kat’s face. She might actually be enjoying herself. Remember during the first episode how she said she was going to be bad at this? I personally think she’s very good at it.”

  A feeling of warmth at the unexpected compliment bloomed in my chest. “Thanks, Victoria. You taking the lead makes it much easier for me.”

  “Thanks, cohost. We better move on before this love fest takes over,” Victoria said. “Next caller.” She paused to let the call come through. “You’re on Not My Problem,” Victoria said. “What can we help you with today?”

  “You told me to call back and give you an update.” My pulse picked up speed. Diego. Alana was at full attention now.

  “Mr. Looking for Love,” Victoria said. “We were just talking about you.”

  “Wait, is that my moniker?”

  “You don’t like it?” Victoria pouted.

  “Um … I can deal with it.”

  “We’re so happy you called,” Victoria said. “Listeners love you. So tell us, any progress with your girl?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “That’s not a real answer,” I said.

  “So I’ve heard.” He cleared his throat, almost like he thought he’d given himself away with that bit of info. And he had, by repeating something he had said at the lockers just the other day. It was the first thing the caller had done that let me know without a doubt that it was Diego. “Here is a real answer. Yes, I was able to spend some more time with her. We had fun. She’s everything I described before—funny, easy to be with, sweet. I’m trying to be patient like Ka—Kat suggested.” He’d almost called me Kate but stopped himself in time.

  “And it’s not working?” I asked.

  “I think it is.”

  “But …” Victoria prompted.

  “But there’s another guy.”

  Victoria gasped and my eyes shot straight to Alana. Her brows went down.

  “You think she likes someone else?” Victoria asked.

  “I’m almost sure of it,” Diego replied.

  “Maybe you’re reading too much into it,” I said. “Have you asked her?”

  “No, I haven’t. I’m exercising patience, Kat, like you suggested. You basically implied chivalry was dead.”

  “Look at you reading into things again. I said nothing of the sort. I said patience was dead. It’s been beaten to death with an instant-gratification stick.”

  “Ouch,” Diego said.

  “Do you disagree?” I wasn’t normally this confrontational, but it was Diego and our exchanges always brought something out in me.

  “Yes and no.”

  “Ha,” I said.

  “I’m still a fan of just kissing her,” Victoria said.

  I nodded. “My point exactly.”

  “I can have patience,” he said. “I just wonder if my patience will result in anything.”

  “Isn’t that one of the definitions of patience?” I asked. “Waiting without being certain of the result?”

  He chuckled. “Okay, I get it. Thank you, once again, for listening.”

  “Thanks for the update,” Victoria said. “We can’t wait to hear about the results of this.” Diego ended the call, and Victoria spoke into the mic. “And to all you listeners out there, I sense love i
n the air. The Fall Festival is still a few weeks away, plenty of time to ask a date. There will be games and food and rides and music and lots of fun!”

  “I think there might be football in there, too, somewhere,” I said.

  Victoria laughed. “Football? Who goes to the Fall Festival for football? Before I get angry emails, that’s a joke, people. I love football. I can’t wait to cheer the team on and then afterward celebrate at a carnival.”

  After a couple more calls, we closed out the show and I walked out of the booth to meet Alana in the outer room.

  Frank smiled at me. “That was some excellent reading, Kat.”

  “Why did you donate all this stuff?” I snapped. “Feeling guilty?”

  He put his hand on his chest. “I can’t win with you, can I? You accuse me of pranking your marina and here I am supporting the podcast and you think it’s because I feel guilty?”

  “Yes.”

  “It was nice,” Alana said.

  “Yes, so big of you to spend your dad’s money,” I said.

  Alana took my arm and pulled me away. “Not worth it,” she said to me quietly.

  When we were outside of the room, I asked, “How do you stand him?”

  “I have him under control,” she said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means, he thinks he’s playing me, but I’m playing him.”

  “I still don’t know what that means.”

  She laughed. “You’ll see. The more important question is, why does Diego think I like someone else?”

  “So you agree that it’s Diego?”

  “Yes, I think you’re right. It’s him.”

  I nodded toward where we’d just left Frank. “That’s why he thinks you like someone else.”

  She gasped. “Why would he think I like that?”

  “Maybe because you invited Frank over to my house and he basically crashed your date? Diego asked me what was up between the two of you that night.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Alana asked, wide-eyed.

  “I’d forgotten he had asked it until now. He thinks you like Frank. Or maybe it’s Bennett. You know, the guy you’ve been texting to find out where Diego is at all times.”

  She threw her head back and groaned. “I need to fix this.”