Page 13 of The Alternate Captain (Elite Hockey #3)

I’ve had the morning from hell.

Just when I think it can’t get any worse, Darren spots me when I walk into the music room. He moves towards me, weaving through a cluster of students, and comes to a stop right in front of me.

“I hear you didn’t get in, Kelly. I’m sorry,” he says, leaning close so I can see my reflection in his saxophone, which he has slung over his torso.

There’s a faint trace of a smile on his lips. Twat.

I hesitate for a moment, taking a step back.

“No, but I understand they didn’t take any cellists.”

I’m not sure if it’s one hundred per cent true, but I’ve been telling myself that, based on the intel I’ve gathered.

Darren raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Well, regardless, it’s a shame for you, of course.

But obviously, I’m glad you’re still here.

” I give him a weak smile and move to step around him, but he holds his arm out to stop me.

“Do you fancy catching up at some point? We can get a coffee or something.”

I shove his arm aside. “I’m busy. Sorry. ”

“Already? We just started back.”

“Yes. I’m very busy.”

“Oh, right.” A smile creeps onto his face and he cocks an eyebrow up. “Busy with your new boyfriend, right?”

I guess news travels fast through a friendship group that’s hardly in contact anymore. Shit, shit, shit.

“There you are, Kelly.” Tom appears from behind me and steers me over to our seats.

I slip past Darren, inwardly apologising to my cello as I give him a gentle whack on the legs with it on my way past.

Tom scowls at Darren. “What the hell did he want?”

“I think his original intention was to gloat, but then he asked me if I fancied catching up.”

Tom lets out a yelp of disgust. “You’re joking, right?”

I shake my head, unclipping my cello case and prying it open.

“And then he asked me about my new boyfriend,” I whisper, right into Tom’s ear, since the room is getting busy.

“Your boyfriend?” Tom says, not getting the hint that I whispered for a reason before the penny drops into the slot.

“Say it louder, Tom. Dale didn’t hear you.” Tom swivels his head towards the drum kit at the very back of the room but relaxes when he sees Dale deep in conversation with someone. “Sorry. Did you tell him you don’t have a boyfriend?” Tom asks.

“No, you interrupted me.”

“Well, what’s the harm in letting him think you’re seeing someone? I mean, I’m sure Johnny wouldn’t mind.” Tom shrugs.

“It’s completely ridiculous.”

Tom smirks and heaves his cello out of its case.

I’m tightening my bow as the course director, Patrick, saunters into the room, slightly late but not giving a damn about it.

“Welcome back, everyone,” he says, dumping his music bag down at his desk. He moves behind the conductor’s podium and surveys the room .

Patrick runs through a start-of-term speech, giving us an outline of what we can expect in the new academic year, while I tune out. I’m thinking about whether I should give in and wash Johnny’s hoodie when Tom nudges me in the arm.

I pull myself back into the room in time to learn of a recital booked for Christmas.

“So, to confirm, Kelly and Darren will play a duet. I’m keen to experiment with some pieces that Darren has written, which bring together the alto sax and the cello.

Kelly, I would also like you to work with Darren on the piece and ensure that it works well.

In addition, I have something prepared, so we’ll be looking to present three ensembles. ”

It takes a few seconds to sink in, but when it does, I’m ready to crawl back into bed and never come out. Ever.

You can’t make this stuff up.

I avert my eyes to the woodwind section, where Darren sits at the front with a shit-eating grin on his face. He mouths something that I can’t quite work out, but I flick my eyes back towards Patrick, pretending to hang on his every word.

Ultimately, this is unavoidable. Not only will it give me an enormous boost in credits, it’ll get me out of two writing assignments. But I never expected Patrick to pair me with Darren. I wonder if I can call the music college and beg them for a place.

“I’ll provide updates via the online portal when more information becomes available. Anyway, we have a lot to do this year and we need to get going. I assume everyone has printed out their sheet music?”

At least I did that. I grab them out of my music folder and place them onto the music stand that Tom and I are sharing.

We wait for a further brief, and of course, only in the last ten minutes of our rehearsal do we play a single note.

It’s not a piece I’m familiar with, and most of the orchestra is given instructions to run things over with their section lead during the week before we’re dismissed .

I waste no time packing my stuff up, and tell Tom that I’ll meet him back home, out of pure desperation to get the hell out of here.

Frustratingly, I’m so engrossed in my efforts to avoid Darren, I don’t realise that the hard chest my face comes into direct contact with as I round the corner near the library, is Johnny, until I’m flat on my ass, looking up at him.

“Kelly, hi.” His freshly shaven face highlights the squareness of his jaw, and oh my God, I can’t even look at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”

He chuckles, extending his arm to help me up. “I guess I am difficult to miss. Are you in a rush?”

“No, it’s—”

“Kelly. Wait up,” Darren calls from behind me.

Johnny glances towards him before looking back at me. “Who—”

“You disappeared before I could talk to you,” Darren says, coming to a stop at my side. He sets his saxophone case at his feet and fixes his gaze on Johnny, looking him up and down. “Is this your boyfriend?”

I figure now is my time to come clean. I can either admit that this isn’t my boyfriend—implying that someone else is, or say it isn’t my boyfriend because I don’t have one. I open my mouth to speak but Johnny slips right into character, holding his hand out to Darren.

“Johnny Koenig. Nice to meet you.”

Darren wearily shakes Johnny’s hand and then pulls his arm back as if he’s been electrocuted. He shifts his attention to me.

“Can we chat, Kelly?”

“No, sorry. I have plans,” I say. “We can catch up another day.”

And Johnny, my knight in hockey gear, or a training tracksuit, swoops in. “Yeah, sorry, bud. We’ve got a reservation. Are you ready to go, beautiful?” His eyes land on mine as he waits for my reply .

“Yes. Sure, okay.” I pick my cello up and turn towards Darren briefly. “I’ll catch up with you soon, yeah?”

Johnny is quick to swipe my cello from me, holding it carefully as he walks towards the car park. And since Darren is watching, I have no choice but to follow him.