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Nolen’s voice rang out over the speaker, “Thanks for listening, everyone. I believe we have a killer team for next year.”

“But you’re stuck with us,” Susie said. “For the rest of this year. Tune in today after school for our regular podcast hour!”

“Have a great weekend,” Nolen said, and the others in the studio chimed in with goodbyes as well.

Deja turned her entire body toward me. “That was torture. I don’t believe we’ll have to hear his stupid voice every day next year.”

“Yeah,” I said, and was about to say more when the words “Youall did great” came in Susie’s voice from the speaker in the corner of the classroom.

“Turn off the mics,” I said, as if Nolen or Susie would be able to hear me.

“Was it everything you always dreamed of?” Nolen asked.

“Yes,” Ava said with an excited squeal.

“Never thought about it until now,” Jensen said. “So not really.”

Mr.Vasquez was staring at the speaker too, probably wondering if there was a way he could disable it from our end. There wasn’t. It was controlled by the main panel in the studio.

“Did you and Finley break up or something?” Susie asked.

My heart jumped as I heard my name and registered the question. The rest of the class had quieted as well, suddenly interested in this unscripted conversation.

“No. Why?” he asked.

“Why?” Deja snorted from next to me. “Idiot.”

“She’s wanted this since freshman year,” Susie said.

Seventh grade,I corrected her in my head.I’ve wanted this since seventh grade.

“I figured since you…” She trailed off, and now all eyes in the room were on me. I could feel them drilling into me from all sides.

Jensen laughed a little. “It’s not my fault she doesn’t have the voice, charm, or quick-thinking skills to host a podcast.”

And there was the third thing. The nail in the coffin where our relationship would now lay to rest.

I wasn’t sure how Susie reacted to Jensen’s declaration, because everyone in the classroom, as though at once, let out a collection of noises: grunts, gasps, sighs, laughs.

“Settle down,” Mr.Vasquez said while giving me an assessing look. I wondered what he thought I was going to do. Cry? Scream? My face felt hot, so I knew that at the very least I was bright red.

“Yep,” I said aloud to lighten the mood and play this off like I wasn’t crushed. “I’m known for my troll voice.”

The class laughed, and I forced a smile.

“Hot mic,” the deep voice of Mr.Whitley rang out over the speaker. Finally.

Jensen cussed right into that hot mic; then there was a pop, followed by several seconds of complete silence. Everyone in the class burst out laughing again. Except me and Deja, of course.

“Emergency meeting after school where we plot our revenge?” I said.

“That or murder,” Deja said.

“Let’s start with revenge.”

Chapter

three