Chapter 18

It was 11:30 when I pulled up outside of my house. My parents house. The mansion that I grew up in. 

I’d just driven around for a while, trying to clear my head. But there were too many thoughts to decipher in one drive. 

My dad was president. 

I was moving to DC. 

Away from Dylan. 

But then Dylan goes and gets fucked up in a game. 

And now I didn’t know what I was doing in my parents driveway. 

I turned off the engine and got out of the car. I was still wearing my pads from the game, and I was beyond sweaty. 

There was music and laughter still going on inside, no doubt my dad and his campaign team celebrating the win. 

The door was opened just a few moments after I knocked, and my dad stood there, looking down at me with an unreadable expression. 

“Congratulations.” I gave him my best smile, realizing that it was no use for me to complain about my own problems right now. 

“Rick, honey, who is it?” My mom asked, appearing behind him. Her face broke into a smile when she saw me. 

“Sam, darling. Why don’t you go clean up and join us for some celebration?” She suggested, pulling me inside. “Oh boy do you reek.” She added light heartedly. 

“I’ll be up really quick.” I assured her, my heart racing as I took the stairs down to my bedroom two at a time. 

I hadn’t been home in almost 3 months. Wow. 

I stripped off my football stuff, tossing it into the corner of my bathroom. I turned the water on in the shower, stepping in before it had time to warm up. 

I felt tears collect in my eyes as I realized how low my life had gotten again in these past few months. 

I don’t have a family. 

That’s what stuck with me the most. 

The family that I grew up loving and thinking was mine, they’re not my real family. We’re not related by blood. They just adopted me. I was one of my mom’s pity projects on a vacation that ended up being permanent. 

The family that had so kindly taken me in for the past few months, I wasn’t part of them. I’m not a Peters. As much as Kate used to joke that Josie and I were like the daughters she never had, I wasn’t and never will be part of their family. 

Who did I think I was, assuming everything was fine. How did I think that I could be part of one family, while my adopted family is moving to DC to live in the stupid White House. 

How did I possibly think that if (when) my dad won the election, I could stay here in Michigan or something insane like that. Of course that wouldn’t happen. Because when January 21st comes around and my dad officially becomes the President of the United States, I can say goodbye to the life I thought I knew. 

No more football. That’s completely off the table. As if the president could have his daughter playing on a boys football team. The whole ‘Football being the sport of America’ is bullshit. Because it’s only half of america’s sport. The boys. No, the girls are expected to parade around in fucking tutus and act like little girly, prissy bitches the whole time. 

And no more Dylan that’s for sure. No more hanging out with the guys. No more going on road trips. No more having my awesome room downstairs, alone, away from the rest of my annoying ass family. 

My life was about to change more than I could ever imagine. 

I shook my head, trying to put a smile on my face as I washed my hair. 

The most I could do was make the best out of this situation. Maybe I’d guilt my dad into telling me about my real family. Maybe I’d annoy them by being around the house so much that they’d eventually send me off to play football for at least some team. I don’t care if it’s the worst team in the country, I’d get those boys in shape. 

My heart sunk, realizing that the game I just played was probably my last with any team, ever. The last memory I’d have of high school football would be watching my boyfriend get carried off of the field on a stretcher. 

I turned up the music on my speakers really loud as I got dressed. Might as well start now making my parents happy. 

I pulled on a black strapless dress and a turquoise sweater over it. I left my hair down and curly, and actually put a reasonable effort on my makeup. 

My mother was having a glass of champagne, talking animatedly with someone as I joined them in the formal sitting room. 

She wrapped her arm around my shoulders, giving it a comforting squeeze as I stood next to her. 

I put a smile on my face and nodded politely as she introduced me to whoever she was talking about. 

That’s how the rest of the evening went. 

I smiled and nodded and laughed and giggled and acted like a proper little lady while my world fell apart around me. 

I pushed everything away while everyone I knew and loved was at the hospital, waiting for Dylan to wake up. Waiting for the sign that he was going to be okay. Waiting to know if he’d ever wake up. 

******************************

“Sweetie?” My mother’s soft voice asked, appearing around the corner of my room. 

I looked up at her as she walked over to my bed. 

“Is everyone gone?” I asked, watching as she carefully sat down on the end of the bed. 

“Mostly. Your fathers saying the last goodbyes.” My mom smiled. “Sam, I’d like to apologize.” 

“For what?” 

“For not being here when you needed me.” My mom said quietly. “I dropped the ball with you, I really did, and I cannot express how sorry I am. I should’ve been more involved with your football, I should’ve made an attempt to understand the game, and supported you. I should’ve been there for you when we told you that you were adopted. We should’ve told you earlier, or differently, or I don’t even know, Sam. But I’m just sorry.” 

“It’s fine, honestly. You were busy, I understand.” 

My mom sighed, reaching for my hand. “Remember when we used make cupcakes together?” She asked. 

“Oh Gosh those were awful. You let me take the reins, and they’d end up like rocks, but you’d smile and pretend to eat them while I proudly gave them to dad.” I laughed, shaking my head. My mom and I used to be really close. When I was 7 or 8, I was momma’s little girl, we did everything together.

“Is everything okay?” She asked quietly. 

I shook my head, my bottom lip quivering. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” My mom offered, giving me a soft look. 

“There’s a player on the team, they’re called the kicker. They’re the one that kick the ball at the beginning of the game, or when we want to get it through the posts at the end of the field. Dylan, you know him, he’s our kicker. Dylan, after he scored an amazing field goal, was illegally hit. He broke his ankle, and got a really bad concussion.” I sighed, looking down at my hands. “And we were at the hospital, and I just realized how I’m not part of their family you know? I’ve been acting like I was for the past few months, but I’m not. And I just don’t feel like I fit in anywhere... And dad just got elected today, so I figured I’d come and congratulate him.” I mumbled, a tear falling from my eyes and landing on my hands. 

“I know your dad doesn’t show it much, but he really loves you. And I know that he’s very happy that you’re here tonight.” My mom said softly. “How about you and I go shopping tomorrow?” She suggested, trying to lighten the mood. 

I gave her a soft smile. “I’ve got school.” 

“Oh come on, would it really matter if you missed one day?” My mom sighed, raising her eyebrows. “I’m sure most of the team won’t be there anyways, I mean who put a regional game on a Tuesday?” 

“And election Tuesday at that.” I agreed, shaking my head. “But yea, I guess spending the day with you wouldn’t be too bad.” 

My mom smiled, standing up from my bed. “Excellent. Now don’t tell your sister, they’ll only want to get out of school as well.” My mom winked. 

-------------------------------

Who just saw the Brazil/Chile game?!?!?!?! Penalties wtf! My dad and I were freaking out. And at the end, after Brazil won, when Neymar was crying (so cute i love him) my mom's like 'wait why is he crying' and my dad I just looked at each other like why are we related to this person who doesn't get soccer

This chapter marks the part that I started writing this story again... The last time I wrote this (a few months ago) I stopped writing it after Dylan's accident because I had no idea what to do and where I was going with everything. But I started rewriting it a week ago or so and now I'm almost done writing it. Theres about 17 chapters left from here :)

Update: Tonight (I'm babysitting so I might update twice idk)

-Panda