“It’s exercise,” she growls, “it’s not supposed to be fun. I really need to think of a better way to do this.”
“Can’t you make it a game or something?” I ask, before waving the question off. “I’m sure you would have thought of that already. Anyway, after you don’t have fun, have fun at the show.”
She nods. “Make sure you listen, okay?” I nod as well. She steps towards the door, before stopping, coming back, and hugging me. “I mean it, Frannie,” she says. “If you get scared, or if that guy comes and doesn’t wanna leave, you call me at the station. Okay?”
“All right, all right,” I say, hugging her back. “I’ll be fine. He probably just wants to sell me a bible or something.”
“I guess. Catch you later,” she says.
“Ja ne,” I reply. The sudden code-switching cracks her up every time. I need to drag her into the language department dean’s office sometime. I settle down on the couch, and reach for the stereo remote. Kyle’s not on until three, but the music selection’s pretty good otherwise. I turn up the radio and lean back on the couch.
Kyle is a DJ on the campus radio station; she was able to convince the program manager that a two-hour techno block in the middle of Wednesday would be a good fit. I honestly couldn’t really tell you where one song ends and another begins during her show, but she always seems to have a lot of fun playing music she claims is from the far reaches of the globe. She must not be the only one who enjoys it, because the show’s been running since we were sophomores.