Chapter 5 Knight in a sweat soaked Jersey
†CHARLOTTE†
The athletic complex looms in front of me, its glass doors reflecting the morning sunlight. A sign bearing the Black Wolves' logo hangs above the entrance, and I suddenly become very aware of the sweat gathering beneath my blouse.
My palms are clammy.
It's just an internship interview. I've prepared for this. I know what I'm doing.
So why does it feel like I'm about to walk into an examination room and forget everything I've ever learned?
I take a deep breath, straighten my blouse, reassure myself one more time, and walk inside.
As soon as the receptionist spots me, she saunters over with a smile on her face. “You're Charlotte Hunter, right?”
Okay, she knows me.
Everybody seems to know me here, and I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
I give her a smile. “Yes, I am.” I look around, taking in the sparse reception area. “Am I late?”
“No, you're right on time,” she assures me before walking ahead and leading me down the hallway.
As we walk, we pass some players and other interns. Some smile at me, while others simply ignore us. Nonetheless, I'm still excited.
A part of me searches the area for a particular hockey player with brown hair and emerald-green eyes, but I don't see him. I'm grateful I don't. At least, I think I am.
“Alright, we're here. Please go right in.”
The receptionist's voice pulls me away from my thoughts as she gestures towards a door with a sign that reads Head Physiotherapist.
I swallow hard, rubbing my palms against the hem of my skirt.
I offer the receptionist a smile and knock gently.
The feminine voice from earlier replies almost instantly. “Come in.”
I take another breath and push the door open.
The office that welcomes me is grand and elegantly furnished. A shelf stands to one side, while a window sits behind a beautifully carved wooden desk scattered with books, files, and a computer.
The woman looks up, and when she sees me, she offers me a smile that calms my nerves slightly.
“Oh, it's you, dear. Please, sit.” She gestures towards the chair in front of her.
I pull it out and take a seat.
“You must be Charlotte Hunter?”
“Y-yes, I am.” I stutter, and I practically want to facepalm. It's just three words, and I'm stumbling over them like a toddler learning how to speak.
Give yourself some grace.
“I'll try,” I mutter.
“You'll try what?”
Did I just say that out loud?
Heat climbs up my cheeks. Now they'll think I'm mentally deranged.
“It's nothing. I'm just a little nervous,” I admit, and she smiles.
“Don't worry, you'll be fine. I'll just ask you a few questions, and after that, we'll see how it goes.” She says this reassuringly, and I nod.
She flips through some documents before settling on a file with my photograph.
“I see you've maintained a 4.0 GPA over the past few semesters. That's impressive, Charlotte.”
I smile. “Thank you, ma'am. I do my best to keep my grades up.”
She sets the file aside and folds her hands. “How are you finding your sports rehabilitation programme, Charlotte?”
“I'm enjoying it. There's a lot to learn, but I've always been interested in how the body works and how proper rehabilitation helps athletes recover. I want to understand more than just the theory, and I think working with professional athletes will help me do that.”
And that is true. Although I'd originally started this journey because Jeffrey wanted to become a hockey player, I've come to love the profession and wouldn't have it any other way.
There's still so much I want to learn, especially about injury prevention and helping athletes return to the sport they love. I want to be good at what I do, not just because I want a successful career, but because one day, I want to be the kind of physiotherapist athletes can trust with their recovery.
She asks me a few more questions, which I do my best to answer. With each one, she seems increasingly impressed, so I assume I've done a great job.
Which also means that Tobias had nothing to do with this. I genuinely got this internship.
Not because my best friend put in a good word.
But because of my worth.
That thought warms my heart.
I did this.
“After reviewing everything, your results are satisfactory, and we're pleased to have you join us.” She extends a hand, which I take.
“Thank you, ma'am. I'm sincerely grateful.”
“As you know, this is a paid internship, so you'll be properly compensated.”
That I did not know.
But is it a bad thing?
Absolutely not!
“But unfortunately, the accommodation that was promised has already been filled. Would you be able to commute, at least for now, until we're able to get everything sorted?”
It takes me almost twenty minutes to get from my university to here it's the same vice versa, and that's on a good day without any traffic. And currently, I don't have anywhere to stay since Jeffrey kicked me out.
What am I going to do now?
Before I can reply, her telephone rings. She glances at the screen before answering, speaking to the person on the other end for a few seconds.
“Yes, that would be perfect. Thank you.”
She ends the call and turns back to me.
“Okay, good news! One of our players has offered to help us arrange temporary accommodation for you. It's not the original accommodation we had planned, and I can't promise it'll be exactly what you expected, but it'll give us time to find a more permanent arrangement.”
Hell, I'll take anything as long as I have a roof over my head.
“Anything will be fine. I just need somewhere close to my university and here,” I say, and she nods as she clicks away on her computer.
“It's about five minutes from here and ten minutes from your university. Is that good enough?”
“It's perfect. Thank you.”
A knock sounds at the door just then.
“Come in,” she says.
The door opens, and the one man I've been trying to avoid walks through it.
Clad in his hockey jersey.
Drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his face.
His eyes meet mine, and my throat literally dries up. My nails dig into the leather seat.
“You're here. Perfect!” she chimes, turning to me. “This is our star player and team captain, Tobias Knight.”
I know that.
What is he doing here?
In this space.
With me?
“Well, our Knight here was kind enough to offer you accommodation.”
No. No.
Jesus, no.
