Page 51 of The Alternate Captain
“What’s the deal with that, then? Why are you finding it so stressful?”
I give her an overview of my conversation with Dr Wells.
“I have no idea what topic to choose. I’ve got to present six high-level ideas, and I have half an idea after my four hours in the library. The worst part? It can’t be anything to do with hockey.”
“Have you checked the stored theses there? It is common for people to add a section at the end discussing potential future research. You could use those for ideas. And you could consider leadership of an orchestra, or another sports team or something.”
I light up. “Well, shit. That’s what the Prof meant. Thanks. You’re a genius.”
As soon as we hit the main road outside the university campus, we’re stuck in a whole load of traffic, which means that Kelly is stuck in a car with me for longer than she probably wants to be.
But I’m nervous and I have no idea what to say to break the tension that hangs in the air. Kelly must be feeling it, too, because she turns in her seat to look at me before twisting back to gaze out of her window again. She does this at least three times before I catch her looking, getting her right in the eyes with a glare that could only say one thing—tell me what’s on your mind.
“I was hoping I wouldn’t bump into you. I didn’t see you at all during the last school year. I thought I may get lucky again.”
“Am I that bad?” I ask.
“I can’t work you out, John. Or Johnny. Or whatever the hell you want to be called.”
“I was hoping you’d call me grumpy-pants again, to be honest.”
She gapes at me. “See. This is exactly what I mean. Who are you? Because I’ve never been this confused in my entire life.”
Now I’m confused.
“Do you want my stock answer? Johnny Koenig, twenty-seven—”
“No, I mean... who are you? Because those three months I spent talking to you were... then the way you are around the guys, and when we were at the pub with my friends, you were... I have no words, Johnny.”
“How would it appear if I was all nicey-nicey to the guys when I’m trying to lead by example? I mean, using your brother as an example, if I let Bettsy do whatever the hell he wanted, we’d never be where we are now,” I say, keeping my voice surprisingly level for me.
“Okay, fine. I sort of understand that. But...”
“Yeah?”
“I really liked the Johnny I was getting to know.”
“Are you forgetting that you were the one who blocked me?”
Silence falls between us. And I’m very much aware that we’re still moving at a snail’s pace through the rush hour traffic.
“Well, it’s all a moot point anyway, right? Because you’ve got such a bromance with my brother—”
“Don’t say that,” I say, almost pleadingly, even though part of me knows she’s probably right. My loyalty lies with her brother. And what would people say if they knew I was dating an eighteen-year-old?
“Fine. End of conversation.”
I search every corner of my brain for something to say for the rest of the drive to her place. And instead of coming up with something sensible, I go completely off-piste.
“Well, you hate me anyway, so what does it matter?”
“Why do you think I hate you?”
“I haven’t heard from you since I saw you last,” I say, coming to a stop outside of a townhouse.
“But how does that mean I hate you? You have my number. You could have texted me. Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone in my life. Apart from—actually, forget it.”
She undoes her seat belt and climbs out of the car. I’m out, too, getting around to the back door before she can unbuckle her cello. And since I don’t want to bethat guy, I help her and walk her to her front door in silence.
