“Hmm,” the manager said, staring toward the store entrance and greeting an incoming stream of moms and tweens. “You’re hired,” she declared. “Report in on Monday at 8 a.m. with your birth certificate, ID, Social Security card, and a full H&M outfit. Including socks,” she said robotically. “I will check your socks,” she assured him. “Be on time or be jobless,” she added, stepping away to help a mob of white girls who were overflowing with shopping bags, the weight of their purchases making their taut, tanned skin visibly sag.

Theo pulsed with satisfaction. His dad would be proud. Now all he had to do was find some work clothes. The manager approached him as he browsed the solitary wall of men’s clothes. “I forgot to ask about your availability,” she said, swaying toward him like a leopard stalking a hare. “I only hire people who can commit at least six months. Part-time work results in part-time customer experiences,” she hissed. Theo could see the crazy, but he told himself it was just eccentricity.

“Yeah, I’m taking classes at, um, Oglethorpe, so I’ll be around.”

She exhaled loudly. “Thank you, Theo,” she said, walking away. Theo smiled. This job would be fun.

Gliding through the mall, beaming confident smiles at girls he hoped were old enough, he found himself in an electronic goods store, browsing. A lifeless employee followed him out of duty more than suspicion, his eyes pendulating like some robotic Cheshire cat.

Theo eventually stopped browsing to fiddle with the knobs on a sleek radio that looked like it should have been a projector or an atomic clock or a router—maybe even all three at once—but was nonetheless just a radio. He had little knowledge of Atlanta’s radio stations. He exclusively played music from his iPhone, his dad exclusively listened to wholesome jazz CDs, Apollo exclusively listened to news podcasts, Kai exclusively listened to awful Spotify playlists, and Sol exclusively never drove. Except for that one time she’d crashed his car into the gate of a former military base. Yeah, that wouldn’t be happening again.

Theo settled on 90.1, the only radio station he knew, courtesy of Zed. It was the afternoon, so the NPR member station played its local content. A clear voice droned into his ears, bland yet mesmerizing. He could see why Zed was addicted. Noticing that the employee was still slavishly focused on him, almost against his will, Theo began pacing the radio aisle, helping the employee stir.