Page 17 of The Alternate Captain
“Save it, Betts. Just get your shit together and get your ass upstairs. Pronto,” Johnny says.
A few seconds later, footsteps retreat, and the front door slams.
I sit up, looking over the sofa to see Mike in the kitchen. His eyes widen when he catches sight of me.
“Sorry, Kel. I forgot you were here. Don’t mind Johnny. He’s wound up at the moment. I hope he didn’t wake you up.”
I get up from the sofa. “Does he always talk to you like that? Because he sounds like a dick.”
“Nah, he’s fine—look, I need to get going, but good luck today. Text me later and let me know how you do.”
Grabbing his mug, he heads back into his bedroom, disappearing out of view.
“Whydo I getthe impression you’re more pissed off than usual?” Ffordey takes a seat next to me on the sofa. The entire team, except for Bettsy and Hutch, cram into my living room, occupying every inch of seating available. Thank Christ we’re all freshly showered.
“The usual,” I say. My notebook rests on the coffee table in front of me and I reach for it, using it as a distraction.
“Nah, Ffordey’s right. Is it Betts and Hutch?” Danny says.
What am I supposed to say? I’m pissed that someone I was chatting with online has disappeared off the face of the earth? I shouldn’t be the slightest bit emotionally invested, but I thought we were getting along okay. Age difference aside, we chatted, and we were flirting and stuff. And our conversations were a place where I didn’t have to be Johnny the Captain, Johnny the Defenceman, Johnny the Big Brother, Johnny the Failure of a Son.
They were a place where I could be myself.
“I’m fine. Can we get going, please? We’ve got a lot to cover.” I reach for the remote, but before I press play, there’s a buzz at the front door.
Someone shouts that they’ll get it, and I expect it to be the stragglers, but my sister’s chirpy tone fills the air and I groan inwardly.
“Does Coach know you’re doing this?” she says, pushing her way through the crowd and coming to a stop behind me. “I’m pretty sure he’s keen for you guys to rest.”
“What do you want, Vicky?” I crane my neck to look at her.
“Can I have a quick word—in private?” she says.
“Can it wait?”
“It’ll only take a moment,” she says.
I hand Ffordey the remote and stand up, making my way towards the hallway where there’s enough space to talk.
“I’ve been wondering if I should mention it or not, but I’ve been thinking about it and—”
“Just spit it out, Vic, we’ve got a shit-tonne to get through today.”
“Right, sure. I saw Sarah post online that she’s engaged. I was adding a new post to your socials, and I didn’t realise you were still following her. I didn’t want you seeing it and...”
Well, shit. Of course, Vicky would see.
“Thanks for telling me,” I say.
“That’s it?” Her voice flicks to a pitch at least three levels higher than usual.
“That’s it.”
“Johnny. You can’t be serious.” Her eyebrows pop upward.
I don’t know what to say to her. I’m completely done feeling anything for that woman after all she put me through. And with a rested head, I make the decision I should have arrived at last night.
“Do me a favour, remove her from my feeds, and never utter her name again.”
