Creepin | Kylian Mbappé

Chapter two-

(Y/n)'s POV

I wasn't the least bit surprised when I entered my house and spotted my dad wearing his Argentina jersey, with a beer in his hand. It was very common for Hispanic parents to enjoy a beer while watching their futbol games. But on a Tuesday? That was new. Usually, he drank on weekends when work wasn't a concern.

My mom was in the kitchen finishing up her tamales that she made for the whole family. I'm assuming they're coming over for Christmas this time. We usually went to a different family member's house, but I'm sure this time it's our turn.

"We're so happy that you're home for Christmas break, mija. We've missed you, you really need to visit us more," My dad had his hand on my shoulder, gently stroking me with affection. He has a tendency to do that to help me relax, and I must admit, it did bring me a sense of calmness. But at that moment, I was exhausted, and it made me even sleepier than calm.

I offered him a soft smile, "Apá, I was here for thanksgiving break, and when you started to cry during Mexico's defeat against Argentina." He slightly smirked after I mentioned the crying part. That day was a nightmare, he cried while drinking. He went into a full rant, describing the pain Mexico caused him whenever they were playing bad. He was used to them always getting eliminated, but this year, he really hoped things would've gone differently.

Oh well.

I sat down on our couch and watched as he did the exact same thing, taking a sip from his beer, "Did you know Argentina won today?"

Of course I knew, I heard my dad yelling before I even stepped a foot inside the house. I gave a nod as I noticed him patiently waiting for my response. My dad remained quiet, understanding that I wasn't the kind of person to engage in futbol conversations, unlike my other family members. I was cool with listening whenever he wanted to chat about it, but I still had zero interest.

I was doing my utmost to be polite, but my eyelids were getting heavy, and I was on the verge of passing out, "I'm sorry dad but I'm really tired, I think I'm going to sleep for a bit. Ale and I stayed up the entire night studying for my exams today."

"Wait."

I resisted the urge to rise from the couch and instead chose to patiently await my dad's words. But for a while, he remained silent. I glanced over at him and caught him staring at my mom across the room. She looked nervous, they both did.

"Well? What's wrong?" I tried to encourage them to speak up, but they still wouldn't say anything, and it honestly felt like they were communicating without words.

My dad let out a sigh in response to my mom's gesture, signaling him to speak up, "Mija, did Alejandra tell you anything today? You know, any important news?"

Important news? "No she didn't. Why?" I looked at him tiredly, clueless about what he was talking about. Ale didn't mention any big news, just her nerves about today's exams. She kept talking about not feeling prepared and wanting to cheat. Even during the car ride back home, she was somewhat quiet.

"You see, I've saved up a lot of money for this. Since the beginning of last year, Mija. I knew I wouldn't be able to do it if I hadn't picked up a few double shifts. And with your whole college, I needed these extra shifts. Believe or not, we bought tickets for the World Cup final," My dad spilled the beans all at once, letting out everything in a single breath.

And in an instant, it was as if I had received an amount of energy, like a vitamin B12 injection. One that woke me up from my sleepiness and left me completely stunned. I glanced from my dad's eyes to my mom's and the look on her face said it all. This was no joke. My dad was telling the truth. "Dad what? I'm so happy for you! How come you've never told me before? When do you and mom leave?"

"You mean when do we all leave?" He flashed me a massive grin as he corrected me.

Confusion and shock washed over me as I locked eyes with my dad, my eyes widening in disbelief. I sat there in silence, my eyes darting back and forth between my parents, processing every word my dad spoke, replaying them slowly in my mind. We are all going to the World Cup? Me? Someone who has only been to a local children's futbol game is going to an actual World Cup final in Qatar?

I let out a mental sigh, not wanting to go at all, unsure of how my dad would react if I declined, "Do I have to go?" I made an effort to avoid sounding like I was whining.

"Yes. End of discussion. y los padres de Alejandra se fueron a Mexico, that means she's coming with us, and she already agreed," My mom stepped in and spoke on behalf of my dad.

Ugh Ale. I'm going to kill her for not telling me earlier.

I looked at my mom, who was glaring at me, while my dad had a warm smile. She knew I didn't want to go, but she wasn't going to let me stay. My mom was stricter with me compared to my dad, who was more laid-back. I knew that if I asked my dad politely to let me stay, he would actually consider it. However, I would never hear the end of it from my mom. "Fine I'll go," I watched my parents react happily and start celebrating when they heard my words.

But they couldn't see that I was frowning the whole time they were celebrating. Only when my dad turned around for a hug did I quickly put on a fake smile. "I'm not wearing a jersey though," I mumbled quietly against my dad's chest.

I felt really sleepy again and just wanted to sleep. This trip was going to be long and I didn't care much about it. But maybe if I slept, I would feel better.

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