Free Shrinking Violet by Danielle Joseph Page B

the studio tonight. She was wearing diapers when Juice Box hit number one with 'Spill Proof.'. ." He brings up the song.
    My face is flushed. Nobody can see me, and Derek didn't even say my name, but still I'm totally embarrassed. He must think I'm some dumb kid, post-punker, wannabe DJ. Well, that's not true. Okay, so I want to be a DJ and I do like punk tunes, but I really do know about music.
    Jason bursts into the room with a couple of Red Bulls. "Want one?" he asks.
    I shake my head. "No, thanks."
    He hands them both to Derek. Derek pops one open and chugs. "Satisfy me, baby." He laughs, but no one else does.
    I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to be a comedian before he got this radio gig. He's always spouting one-liners and laughing at his own jokes, even when he's on the air.
    I try to ignore him and get to work checking to make sure that all the commercials for the show are lined up. I focus on
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    the Juice Box song playing in the background. "Tip it up. Turn it round, drop it on the ground ... spill proof... "The lyrics are pretty silly if you pick them apart, but as a whole they really work.
    When I'm finished with the computer, Jason jumps on it. "Derek, need me to upload any other tunes for the hour? I think we're going to be short, about two minutes."
    "What are they requesting on the phone lines?" Derek pulls at the chain around his neck.
    "A lot of the stuff you already played. Some Jungle Crew and Lint but most of those tunes you can't play on the radio."
    "I'll pick up a couple of lines and see if we get anything good," Derek says.
    I'm leaning on the side of the console like a dork. "Can I do anything?" I ask no one in particular.
    "Just watch Derek man the phone," Jason says, "something you'll be doing soon."
    Gulp. I have to answer the phones in public? Why can't they stick me in a little closet?
    Derek reaches for the receiver. "SLAM, what's up?" He does that three or four times and then puts down the receiver. "Man, I'll have to pick something myself. All they want is Thwart. Round up a few hot dudes and you have a band."
    Man, that's sacrilege. I can't believe he said that. All those guys have tons of experience.
    They're anything but bubblegum. Just because they're all cute doesn't mean they're not talented.
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    He turns up the volume, and "Spill Proof" blasts through the air.
    I turn up my inner DJ. Good evening, Miami, there's nothing like listening to Johnny Lipton from Juice Box, his voice melts your soul, seeps into your pores. This guy sings from the heart. Are you with me?
    "What's going on in here?" A booming voice breaks my music-induced trance.
    I look over. It's Rob. I sit up straight. Am I in trouble? Am I supposed to be doing something?
    "Listening." I point to the console.
    Derek and Jason burst out laughing.
    "This girl's real serious." Derek eyeballs me.
    "Well, she doesn't get it from me." Rob laughs, too.
    How stupid. I don't get anything from him. We're not even related.
    Rob puts his arm on my shoulder. "Watch Derek carefully. He's a master."
    Mastur bator , I want to say.
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chapter TWELVE
    I'm glad we're meeting at Gavin's house to work on the author project and not mine. I can just see Mom hovering over us and answering questions that aren't even addressed to her. Then halfway through the meeting, she'd grab a pair of kitchen scissors and try to snip Gavin's bangs. She'd like Kayla, though, with all her pink crap--probably invite her to a Mary Kay parry.
    I hope Gavin's mom likes me. I figure she's got to be pretty open-minded if she has a son that dresses in all black and is a huge fan of Stephen King. Just in case she doesn't, I throw on a pair of capris and a light green tee. I don't want to frighten her. But I don't want to gross out Gavin either. I figure this outfit is neutral territory. Besides, my sneakers are black. His favorite color.
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    Mom gives me the once-over after she comes down the stairs smelling like a perfume factory exploded on her.
    I sit on the