Page 3 of The Alternate Captain (Elite Hockey #3)
After wandering through the city for the past hour, I return to my brother’s apartment, letting the tears flow as soon as the door is closed.
I don’t even bother to turn the light on, hiding my shame in the darkness of the empty hallway. I slump down to the floor and hug my knees to my chest, letting go completely. How many hours did I spend talking to him? Or her. It could literally be anyone.
Through blurry eyes, I download the app again, carefully tapping in my username and password, sighing with relief when the conversation history loads. There must be something here showing this guy is a fraud.
I spend ages scrolling right to the top, to the start of our conversation, based on a post I’d put up. It had been a desperate plea after receiving my sixth dick pic of the day. I should’ve deleted the app right then.
“Are guys only on here for one thing?”
Him
No, we’re not.
Me
I’ve had so many dick pics today and I’m not okay!
Him
I can safely say I’ve never sent a dick pic in my entire life.
Me
Ha. Well, that’s actually refreshing to hear.
Him
Granted, I don’t know the etiquette of this app yet. It’s my first time.
Me
I definitely wouldn’t go around telling people that. People will take advantage of you.
Him
Like penis related advantage?
Me
Exactly that. What are you here for, then?
Him
Honestly, I don’t know. Conversation, I guess. You?
Me
Same. Obviously, it’s not been a success. I’m close to uninstalling.
Him
But I have so much to offer.
Me
Oh God, you’re going to send me a dick pic now, aren’t you?
Him
Haha, no. I’d set the bar too high.
Me
You couldn’t see, but I just rolled my eyes.
Him
I could sense it, don’t worry.
Me
Sense it? That’s very intuitive of you.
Him
Well, apparently, you’re less than ten miles away, so maybe I could feel the eye-rolling in the air?
Me
Okay, did you hear that laugh you just mustered?
Him
I heard a snicker if that counts.
Me
That’d be it. But don’t get used to it. I’m a tough crowd.
Him
Shame. What’s your name, anyway?
Me
Kelly. You?
Him
You can call me John.
I freeze. That’s the red flag. The reddest flag flapping in the internet’s wind. I should have seen it. Who even says that? It screams ‘fake name’.
I keep scrolling, flicking my eyes past the snippets of conversation.
John
How old are you, by the way?
Kelly
18. You?
John
I'm 27. Is that okay with you? We're just talking, right?
Kelly
It depends. Do you still have all your hair?
John
Ha. Ha. Yes. I do. And I’m confident that male pattern baldness does not run in my family.
Kelly
I think it runs in mine. My brother is definitely thinning on top.
John
Just the one brother?
Kelly
Now, yes. I had an older brother who died when he was my age. And I have a sister who’s 3 years older than me.
John
I’m really sorry for your loss. That must have been difficult for you all.
Kelly
It wasn’t great. My parents are still convinced that he could have survived. He went on a night out with some friends and fell over drunk in a bar. He whacked his head on the way down and the group of boys he was with just thought he was sleeping and left him outside of his flat.
I didn’t really understand what was going on at the time, but then when it clicked that he wasn’t ever coming home, I just felt this sadness settle that never properly left. I think that’s why I latched on to my other brother so much.
Sorry. You don’t need my pity story.
John
Honestly, don’t apologise. I’m glad that you feel comfortable enough to talk to me. I am really sorry that your family went through that.
Kelly
Thanks, John. Do you have any siblings?
John
One sister. She’s a year younger than me and we’re probably more alike than we care to admit. Though she’s much more outgoing than me. We get on most of the time.
Kelly
It’s difficult being the youngest. You should cut her some slack.
John
Trust me. She’s hard work.
Kelly
Sounds like my sister, actually. My brother and I sort of feel sorry for her boyfriend, even if he is a complete prick.
John
You know, some men like a woman to take charge.
Kelly
Do you like that sort of thing?
John
Is this bordering on inappropriate?
Kelly
Inappropriate how?
John
Well, you’re only 18.
Kelly
Okay, well, if you think you’ll put your back out... I understand.
John
Less of the old jokes.
Kelly
Well, I guess even those pushing thirty still need a good time.
John
Ha. You’re funny.
I tell myself enough is enough when the flirting starts, because it’s embarrassing to re-read, even more so when I’m so unclear about who I was flirting with.
I stalk the real Johnny Koenig’s social media next, and it only takes me a few minutes to find all three of the photos ‘you can call me John’ sent me.
There’s that one of him in a ball cap, fitted T-shirt hugging his chest, which is clearly the chest of someone who works out a lot.
One of him at a driving range, not particularly posed or anything, but he knows someone’s taking the photo.
And the third photo of him with a cat. A standard picture, I guess, to show that you’re a ‘nice guy’ who loves animals.
Of course, there are loads of photos he hadn’t shared with me, mostly hockey.
And a note at the top saying it’s an account managed by ‘@vkphotography’.
I close it down as I catch someone fumbling with the lock on the door. Scrambling to my feet, I move in time to see the door creak open and Mike’s head peer at me by the light of the corridor.
“Kel? What are you doing in the dark?” he says, hitting the light switch. It’s so bright I have to cover my eyes, but I’m not quick enough to hide that I’ve been crying. “What’s going on?”
I step aside to let Mike through, and he dumps his gear down on the floor before studying my face.
“I’m just excited that you won your game.” I take a punt, considering he looks relatively happy.
“Bullshit. You don’t give a shit about that. What’s going on?”
I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should come clean and tell him I’ve been deep in conversation with someone who’s been pretending to be the captain of his hockey team, but it sounds completely ridiculous, so I opt for another explanation.
“I’m just nervous about my audition tomorrow,” I lie. “And I have a confession. I came to your game and saw that hit. I’m done with hockey, Mike.”
To my relief, his eyebrows relax, and he pulls me into a hug.
“Ah, you’ll be fine. And I’m fine. Look at me. Hey, want to come up and play some cards with the boys? We’re having a little celebration thing. Johnny’s a stickler for the rules, but he’s relaxing them for tonight since we’re practically champions.”
I have to stifle a yelp at the mention of Johnny’s name. But Mike takes my reaction another way, thank God.
“No need to panic. I know they can be a bit much... but they understand you’re off-limits.”
I roll my eyes. “Actually, I think I’ll get an early night after I have a quick play-through.” I move into the apartment and grab my cello, a little too eagerly, but Mike shrugs and tells me he’ll see me later.
Once he’s gone, I set my cello back down and slump onto the sofa, because there’s no way in hell I can concentrate right now. My whole body is tense, so I dig some headphones out of my overnight bag and settle them over my ears, desperate to zone out.
I get through one track before my phone starts ringing, Tom’s name flashing up on the screen, and he knows straight away that something is up when I answer.
“What’s wrong and don’t lie to me,” he says, his tone flat.
“I’m really anxious about tomorrow,” I say. Even though I know, deep down, that if there’s anyone I could confide in, it’s Tom. We’ve shared a music stand since we started at the university last year, but I can’t bear the thought of anyone else knowing how foolish I’d been.
“Well, you don’t need to be. Obviously, I want you to do terribly because I don’t want you to leave me, but—”
“How was the rehearsal?” I cut him off, hoping to distract him.
And it works. I let him ramble on and on, listening intently as he talks. Except, after he wishes me good luck and hangs up, Johnny’s back on my mind and the sadness takes over again.