Page 12 of The Alternate Captain
Kelly
Do you like that sort of thing?
John
Is this bordering on inappropriate?
Kelly
Inappropriate how?
John
Well, you’re only 18.
Kelly
Okay, well, if you think you’ll put your back out... I understand.
John
Less of the old jokes.
Kelly
Well, I guess even those pushing thirty still need a good time.
John
Ha. You’re funny.
I tell myselfenough is enough when the flirting starts, because it’s embarrassing to re-read, even more so when I’m so unclear about who I was flirting with.
I stalk the real Johnny Koenig’s social media next, and it only takes me a few minutes to find all three of the photos‘you can call me John’sent me.
There’s that one of him in a ball cap, fitted T-shirt hugging his chest, which is clearly the chest of someone who works out a lot. One of him at a driving range, not particularly posed or anything, but he knows someone’s taking the photo. And the third photo of him with a cat. A standard picture, I guess, to show that you’re a ‘nice guy’ who loves animals. Of course, there are loads of photos he hadn’t shared with me, mostly hockey. And a note at the top saying it’s an account managed by ‘@vkphotography’.
I close it down as I catch someone fumbling with the lock on the door. Scrambling to my feet, I move in time to see the door creak open and Mike’s head peer at me by the light of the corridor.
“Kel? What are you doing in the dark?” he says, hitting the light switch. It’s so bright I have to cover my eyes, but I’m not quick enough to hide that I’ve been crying. “What’s going on?”
I step aside to let Mike through, and he dumps his gear down on the floor before studying my face.
“I’m just excited that you won your game.” I take a punt, considering he looks relatively happy.
“Bullshit. You don’t give a shit about that. What’s going on?”
I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should come clean and tell him I’ve been deep in conversation with someone who’s been pretending to be the captain of his hockey team, but it sounds completely ridiculous, so I opt foranother explanation.
“I’m just nervous about my audition tomorrow,” I lie. “And I have a confession. I came to your game and saw that hit. I’m done with hockey, Mike.”
To my relief, his eyebrows relax, and he pulls me into a hug.
“Ah, you’ll be fine. And I’m fine. Look at me. Hey, want to come up and play some cards with the boys? We’re having a little celebration thing. Johnny’s a stickler for the rules, but he’s relaxing them for tonight since we’re practically champions.”
I have to stifle a yelp at the mention of Johnny’s name. But Mike takes my reaction another way, thank God.
“No need to panic. I know they can be a bit much... but they understand you’re off-limits.”
