Page 30 of Walk the Line

I place a hand on my hip. “What are you sorry for?”

“I thought about what you said. Nah, that’s not…I didn’t think about what you said. Well, I did but…”

“Are you feeling okay?”

He suddenly seems to be working through something in his mind, concentration in his features. “If I say I thought about what you said, it makes it seem as if you were telling me something new,” he says slowly, like he’s watching for my reaction. When I don’t give one, he adds, “Which you weren’t. Obviously. You’re right that the team has more trust in me on account of the fact I’m a man and because I was Captain last year. That’s not news to me, but I guess I was being selfish because I should have taken that into consideration myself instead of letting our problems follow me onto the ice. No, j don’t guess I was being selfish. I was being selfish. I can be selfish many times, which I’m now learning. I did…look over the opportunity to pass the puck to you a few times, and I know others have too. That was dumb of all of us. So I’m sorry.”

I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t have this conversation right now, so I simply respond, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He squints at me. “Do you…accept my apology?”

“Sure,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“Sure?”

“Why are you just repeating everything I’m saying?”

“Because I can’t tell whether you actually accept my apology or not.” I try to find some type of response inside of me, anything but nothing seems want to come out of my mouth. Maybe I’m just tired. “Look, I would like us to do well together as co-captains. It’s very important we do,” he continues.

“We will do,” I nod. “Thanks for the apology.”

Taking a step back, I close the door in front of him, and in just a few seconds, there’s knocking again.

“Yes?” I say again, opening the door to find Julius standing there with a perturbed look on his face.

He’s quick to say, “What do I have to do to get you to accept my apology?”

“I told you I accept it.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Oh.”

It’s possible I didn’t.

“Do you not believe me or something?” he asks.

I let out a wry laugh when a realisation comes to me about why I’m acting like this.

“What?”

“I was willing to listen to your apology. I was. And to be honest, the words were right. But are you aware you looked and sounded like you were in a hostage situation the whole way through it?” His expression at the time remains implanted in my mind. I started wondering whether you actually were a hostage.”

“That’s funny.”

His face is as straight as a ruler.

“Did I tell a joke?” I say.

“I meant what you said about the apology.”

“You respond really well to humour.”

He takes a step closer to me.