Page 15 of Falling for the Felid
I blink at him. “Is that something you say to your students? Did you just treat me like a six-year-old?”
His grin is sly. “Maybe.”
“This isn’t so bad,” Dáithí jumps in. “Your coach is testing you, but you know you can prove yourself. And if you’re lucky, when you tell him that you have a genuine physiological reason for being short-tempered and that it’s temporary, he might be on your side. See? Problems solved.” He dusts off his palms.
I scoff. “I’m not done yet.”
“Did you beat up one of your teammates?” Jared sounds suitably sympathetic, which actually makes me laugh.
“No, not today. Best behavior, remember? But Lurlene in the office asked me for a favor, teaching hockey basics to a new staff member.”
“That’s a great way to show you’re a team player and an excellent representative for the team,” Dáithí points out.
I nod. “Yeah. Which is why I said yes. And then I found out it was Ari.”
“Ohh,” they say in unison. Jared leans forward, and I slump in my chair.
“It was terrible,” I tell them. “I’ve never given such a confusing explanation of hockey in my life. He just… like, he clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near me, didn’t want to be learning about hockey, and I was blathering on and on because I can’t be the reason the outreach program fails.”
“Lots to unpack there,” Jared mutters.
“The program won’t fail,” Dáithí insists. “Even if Ari hates working on it—which I’ll talk to Eoin about and get an update—he’s too much of an overachiever to let anything he does fail. Trust me on this. I’ve known him for a long time.”
“And even if it does fail, it wouldn’t be your fault,” Jared adds. “There are a lot of reasons why it might not work out, and your hockey explanation—which I doubt was as bad as you think—isn’t likely to be one of them.”
“It was bad.”
“How so?”
“I kept chopping back and forth between subjects. Like, we talked about shift changes, but not about any of the elements of play. Like, you know, scoring goals.”
“That’s not that bad. He’d have to know scoring goals is part of the game, right?” Dáithí asks. “Like, I know nothing about it, and I’d assume that goals or points or whatever come into it at some stage.”
I take another slug of my doctored soda. “Maybe. But the whole time, I felt like he hated me.” The instant the whiny, childish words are out, I wish I could call them back. “Never mind.”
“Was he rude to you?” Dáithí asks. “That’s not okay.”
“No… not exactly. He didn’t say anything bad. Like, nothing anyone could complain about.” I feel like such a whiner right now. Oh, boohoo, an adult who owes me nothing wasn’t friendly. “He just… it was vibes. He was so clearly uncomfortable being there. He’d ask questions, but there was no… chat. And his voice was all uptight.” I sigh. “Ignore me. I’m being stupid. He’s allowed to not like me.”
Again, my friends exchange a look.
“That does sound like something’s going on,” Dáithí concedes. “Ari’s not usually like that. I mean, I wouldn’t call him super fun, but he’s good with people. Diplomatic. Polite and friendly.”
I groan and knock back my drink. So great to know I’m the one who brings out Ari’s shitty side.
“I don’t know him as well as Dáithí, but I’ve got to agree. It might not be you, though. He wasn’t thrilled about this assignment to begin with, so that has to have an impact. He could also just have been having a bad day.”
“Or he was embarrassed because he wasn’t prepared,” Dáithí offers. “Some of those guys with senior rank are ridiculous about being prepared. I can totally see him thinking that he should have known everything there is to know about hockey and feeling like he’s failed because you had to teach him.”
I really want to believe that. It might even be true.
Pfft, who am I kidding?
“Yeah, well, anyway, I panicked because I felt like I was fucking it all up, and now we all have to go to a hockey game on Thursday.”
There’s a little silence while they unpack that.
“By ‘we all,’ you mean…,” Dáithí ventures, and I gesture.
