Or at least, I don’t want people to think I am.
Mathias smiles, hides his face, looks uncomfortable as fuck.
“Honeymoon’s in the off season, so it’s back to work as usual for you,” Dan continues. “But we all had a roaring time at your wedding. Some of us more so than others.” There’s more cheering and even a few boos thrown into the mix. “Seriously, though, I need to apologise for getting so pissed. That was . . .” He never finishes his sentence. “At least I wasn’t throwing up in the koi pond. Hey, Pi?”
Pi groans, pulls his baseball cap over his eyes, and slides down in his chair.
“Right, so . . . some of you may have heard a few rumours about the capt—”
“We wouldn’t have heard them if you weren’t shouting your fat mouth off!” Snatch yells through cupped hands.
“Well, whatever you heard is wrong,” Dan says.
Some guys start playfully protesting.
Dan waves them off, then holds his palms flat, surrendering. “I got it wrong, okay? I’m sorry. You may have heard that I told Gadget he had the position of captain, but well . . . Gadget has withdrawn himself from consideration.”
Gasps fill the space, followed by murmuring as everyone relays this to their neighbour, and begins either a “never saw this coming” speech, or an “I told you so” one.
I’m too stunned to speak, or even digest the words. I’d spent the entirety of Saturday and Sunday paralleling Pi’s grief process, and had been very firmly in the acceptance stage for a while now.
“I’m not going to go into too many details,” Dan says, his booming voice shushing us once again. “But just so you all know, Gadget will not be the next Cents’ captain, through his own choosing. But Eksteen and I have been chatting, and we . . . have someone in mind who we’d like to test out over the next few weeks, and if all goes well, we’ll announce it at the awards ceremony at the end of the month.”
Dan looks over at me, and I think I might be sick. My stomach flips, the room catapults itself into sub-tropical temperatures, and my sweat glands dive straight into overdrive.
“So,” he continues. “We were thinking . . .”
He’s still looking at me.
Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit!
Somebody starts a drumroll by slapping their thighs. Other people join in. I can’t. My adrenaline is making it impossible to move my body in normal ways because Dan is still looking right at me . . .
No, wait a minute . . .
He’s looking at . . .
“Aiden, we’d really like you to give the captaincy a shot. What do you say?”
Pi. My closest friend.
I’m second best again. Well, third best because Mathias would have been given the role without any contention.
Everybody around us is whooping and Catherine wheeling their fists. I cheer along, but I know my face is giving me away.
Pi looks over at me, and I plaster on the biggest, cheesiest, I’m-happy-for-you smile I can muster and give him a thumbs up. I am the world’s shittiest friend. Officially.
“Bloody ripper,” Pi says.
Translation:“Yes, I would love to be captain. Fuck my best mate and fuck his feelings, even though last week I didn’t give two shits about the position.”
Dan holds up a hand for quiet. “But we were thinking maybe you don’t have to do it all on your own, Aiden. A lot of teams these days are opting for co-captaincy. So . . . we were wondering if . . .”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Hold my breath.
“Finn, you fancy being Aiden’s partner in crime?”
