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Eighteen
My Thursday morning appointment was in Downtown Salt Lake, in an actual office building. The podcaster I was talking to ran several other shows as well, and was doing well enough to have an entire staff on hand.
Was I nervous?
Uh, yeah.
But she was friendly, greeting me shortly after I arrived and showing me around the studio. Making sure I knew where everything was, and what to expect from the show.
The live show.
Gulp.
But it was all right. Roxie was great about leading me through any stall-points. Filling in the dead air when I stumbled, so it wasn’t obvious, and she was super friendly.
“I understand you ran into some trouble in college,” she said.
No. This wasn’t supposed to be part of any interview. What was she doing? My mouth was instantly dry. “I did.”
“And that a member of the staff was involved.”
Well, crap and double crap. I laughed nervously. “When you put it that way, it makes the entire thing sound illicit.”
“Wasn’t it?” Roxie’s tone was kind rather than accusatory, but that didn’t make me feel better about the question.
I shook my head. People wouldn’t hear that. “No. Not like that.”
“Like what?”
Shit. “Nothing. I don’t know what I’m saying.” I really didn’t. How was I going to get out of this? Why wasn’t I given a script? A heads-up?
“I hate that you’re taking the heat for this.” She still sounded nice. Concerned. “You were so young, and this older man—influential, respected—took advantage of you.”
“Whoa. There was no taking advantage. This wasn’t that kind of trouble.” I could explain exactly what kind it was, but me saying I was arrested for creating a piece of malware that threatened an entire industry. It wasn’t like my teacher assaulted me didn’t seem like the right response.
Roxie’s smile was sad and the way she studied me felt like pity. “I know it can be hard to admit, especially looking back on a younger you who wasn’t as familiar with the world. It’s easy for any of us to say now I wouldn’t let that happen to me. But when you find yourself in that situation, at nineteen, and a person in a position of power forces their will on you—“
“I’m sorry, that’s not at all what happened.” I didn’t want to delve into the details of my crime, but I wouldn’t sit her and let her accuse Graham of things that would make him ill to even consider. “The trouble I got into was all my own doing. If you’d like, we can discuss the technical details of the code I created. I can decompile it for you right now.” Offering to talk code should help her change the subject.
“Okay.” Now she sounded condescending. How did she manage that in so few syllables? “But he got a heavier sentence than you, didn’t he? What does that say about the situation?”
That my best friend’s boyfriend knew people in politics and pulled some strings on my behalf. There was no way I could say that—Hunter got me this spot so Roxie knew exactly who Ramsey was. “It says I was more fortunate than he was.”
Roxie finally changed the subject, but her implied accusations lingered with me through the whole hour. I gave her the most polite, sugary sweet goodbye when it was all over, and vowed to myself to never be on a show like that again.
I had to focus on keeping my hands from shaking as I waited for the bus. This was the worst kind of adrenaline rush ever, making my stomach churn and my knee bounce.
Violet called, and I almost dropped my phone trying to answer.
“I’m so sorry.” Violet sounded as stressed as I was. “Ramsey’s been on their show before, and they were always great. Hunter feels horrible. I’m so so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I wasn’t okay, but this wasn’t her or Hunter’s fault. “They thought they were doing me a favor.” But the things they implied about Graham. About my naiveté. I hated when people confused adoration with stupidity.
“I’ll pick you up. We’ll go for ice cream.”
I smiled at her concern. “It’s okay. I’ve got another thing tonight, and I’ll use the bus ride to clear my head.”
“Okay. But call me if you change your mind.”
