Page 141 of The Alternate Captain

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The panic rises and my head races.

“What do we do?” Johnny mouths.

I point at the space under my bed and motion for Johnny to get under, surveying the room quickly for any other sign that he’s been here.

“You can’t be serious?” he whisper-hisses, eyes flicking between me and my bed.

There’s a knock on my door next.

“Kel? Your brother’s here.”

Johnny drops to the deck and shuffles under, and I distinctly hear a few grumbles of pain.

Once the coast is clear, I tentatively open the door and give my best fake smile.

“Hi, Mike. How’s it going?”

He glides into the room and plonks himself down on the bed, the full weight of his frame pressing into the mattress; I honestly feel so bad for Johnny rightnow.

“I noticed Cap’s car outside. You haven’t spotted him coming and going from any of your neighbours’ houses, have you?”

Shit. We didn’t think about that.

I throw out my best confused expression and hope for the best.

“No, but I don’t make a habit of people watching out of my window,” I say. “What’s up?”

“Just checking in, seeing how you’re doing. Mam said you’ve been distant recently, and she said you’re not going home for Christmas. What’s that about?”

Of course he’d ask about that.

“I’ve just got a lot on with music, and Tom invited me to Christmas at his parents’ house. I can’t go home for the rest of my life, Mike.”

“Well, yeah, but it won’t be the same without you. Maybe I’ll see what Johnny or Hutch are doing if that’s the case.”

Mike picks up a book from my bedside table and flicks through it before setting it back down again.

“Can you not, please?”

“What?” he says, standing up.

He makes his way around my room, picking up my stuff and surveying it before setting it back down again. It’s like being at home, except this time, I don’t have Mam to tell him off.

“Well, do you want to get something to eat tomorrow? I’ll buy.”

He picks up a block of resin and turns it over in his hand before placing it back.

“Okay, sure. That’ll be nice.”

I move towards the door and hover on the threshold, gearing myself up to see him out.

“Why do I get the impression you’re trying to get rid of me?” he says.

“Because you’re touching my stuff, and—”

And then he stops dead. His brow furrows as he comes to the paper roses on my desk. My blood is thundering, and I can feelthe room getting warmer. I’m positive the note from Johnny is still around there somewhere—

“We’re getting takeaway. Is anyone interested?” I’ve never been so glad to see Tom in my entire life. He cruises through the open door, creating the perfect distraction.