Page 56 of The Alternate Captain
“Right.”
“I’ll wait for you,” he says. “If you can talk when you’re done.”
“I probably won’t have a chance to chat after work. I’ll miss my bus home. It’s the last one.”
“I’ll drive you home. Or I’ll call you a cab, on me, if you’d prefer.”
There’s a moment when our eyes meet, and I find myself telling him we close at eleven.
“I’ll be here,” he says, disappearing outside.
Linda is like a dog with a bone for the rest of the shift, giving me a look of complete and utter disgust when I refuse to tell her anything other than that it’s my brother’s teammate who was wondering if I knew what Mike wanted for his birthday. Complete and utter bullshit, obviously, but she doesn’t need to know that.
We finish cashing up the tills just as I spot Johnny’s black BMW pulling back into the car park. My heart pounds inmy chest. I’m running over potential conversation scenarios, wondering what he’s going to say, how I’m going to react. What if...
“I’m setting the alarm,” Linda says, beckoning me through the small gap in the shop doors that we slip through.
She pushes the doors closed the rest of the way and I swear I can feel him watching us.
Linda draws the shutters down and works her way through the rest of the locks, all while Johnny’s car sits stagnant in the car park, a few cars away from Linda’s old Vauxhall Corsa.
Johnny has the common sense not to sit with the engine running and lights on. This helps him go unnoticed when Linda walks over to her car and I pretend to walk to the bus stop, waiting until she’s pulled out of the car park before I double back and head towards Johnny’s car.
He jumps out and rounds to the passenger side, opening the door for me, and I climb in, my chest tight with nerves.
“Do you want to grab something to eat or whatever? Are you hungry after your shift?” he says, getting back into the driver’s seat.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
Honestly, I’m usually ravenous, but the thought of eating anything right now is more than I can bear. My stomach twists with nerves.
“Are you sure, because—”
“I’m fine. Thank you for asking, though. I appreciate it,” I say.
“Right.”
“So, what’s up?” I ask him after a few beats of silence.
“I’ve been thinking about you, Kelly. And I wanted to see you,” he says.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
I can tell straight away that the dynamic has changed between us. And Johnny is probably just as nervous as me, because he’srunning his massive hand up and down his left thigh, and his right thigh jiggles, making the car feel like it’s shaking a little.
“I saw you won your first game of the season. Congratulations,” I say, trying to offer him a distraction from the tension that hangs in the air.
“Thanks. I’m glad we’re back in it. Your brother was good tonight,” Johnny says, flinching.
“Did he start any fights?” I ask.
“Not tonight. But, shit. I told myself I’d leave Bettsy at the bar. Physically and mentally.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“Not your fault. I brought him up.” He brings his hand to his mouth and rubs the stubble on his face, then he takes a breath before twisting in his seat to look at me. “Let’s say Bettsy was out of the picture. And I wasn’t such a jerk with my inability to make good conversation choices. And you didn’t ghost me. Where would we be now?”
