Girls Can't Play Football

Chapter 24

"Do you guys really have to do this?" I whined, close to tears.

"You asked me this about twenty-seven seconds ago. Don't comment on the precision of that, please. My answer remains the same. Yes, Sam."

"But--"

"Sam, not a word anymore."

"But dad! I don't want you to leave yet!"

Dad's eyes softened and he looked up from where he was packing his clothes to meet my eye. "I know, kiddo. I don't want to leave you either. But this is your time. Enjoy. University only ever comes once."

"But I want you here!" I complained like a five-year-old kid.

"But you also know that's not going to happen. It's not like we're leaving you and going off to some faraway island. . .we're literally three or four hours away!"

"Dad!" I shut my eyes and made the most irritated face I could muster up.

"Sam!" he imitated me with a slight hint of a smile on his face. "It's okay. Stop whining."

I groaned into my hands. "I want to go home."

Dad took one of my hands in his. "You are home. This is your new home. It hasn't been too long that you've been here, but I've seen you. You're getting comfortable here. Next thing you know, you won't want to come back to the boys and I once you're done here," dad joked and ruffled my hair.

I annoyingly slapped his hand away. "That's not going to happen," I grumbled.

Dad let out a hearty laughter at the sight of my grumpy expression and merely shrugged at me.

Can you believe it? He shrugged. Yeah, dad. Love the bonding here by the way.

"Can you at least stay until my first appointment with the therapist today? I'd be a lot more comfortable if you're there."

He turned around looking defeated. "Okay, now that I wish I could do. But I've made a promise to the boys' mothers that I'd bring them home safe and sound in a day. I'm so sorry, kiddo," he sighed. "But trust me! It won't be so bad. And if you want, I'll be on the phone the whole time--"

"No, dad!"

"Okay, then I'll be on the phone after you're done with your appointment. And then, if it goes bad. . .we can talk and get your mind off things. And if it goes well. . .we can talk about what all happened in the appointment. What say?"

I sighed and thought about it for a bit until I eventually shrugged. "Alright, I suppose. But you're not forgiven for leaving only a day after."

"Got that," he winked and proceeded to put more clothes into the suitcase.

"Mom's in the other room, yeah?"

"Yeah. Must be watching the television or something," he grumbled and then stopped what he was doing for a second. "I was wondering. Why do women take all the credit for household chores when men do the same?" Dad lifted his unfolded clothes to prove that.

"Because dad. . ." I reached up to him to kiss him on his cheek. "Working for a day only doesn't give men the opportunity to demand for equal credit in opposition to those who work every single day to make our lives better. But if you're talking about yourself... you're different. So chill, dad."

He smirked and continued his work. "That I am."

"You're supposed to be humble about it."

"I am humble. You complimented me. I appreciated it. Easy. In fact, I'd be rude if I hadn't answered," he defended.