68 Days And Counting

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Are You Stupid?

Dedicated to @full-time-lunartic for the cover at the top✨ Thank youu💙

Chapter Twenty-Nine: "Are You Stupid?"

"IT'S IN YOUR apartment?" I asked Sam for the hundredth time, walking with him to the elevator. We entered the empty elevator and I leaned against the mirrored wall. My foot tapped against the ground impatiently and Sam looked amused the entire time at my slight irritation.

"Yes. Just have some patience, would you?"

"Have you met me? That word is not in my vocabulary."

A half smile appeared on Sam's face at my aggravation. I've waited many days and he would remind me the entire time that he had something waiting for me the entire time. The anticipation was killing me especially when he would ask me to guess and never answered to any of my suggestion. Idiot.  "Why is this elevator ride so fricking long?"

"Maybe because I live at the top floor?" I shot Sam the dirtiest look I could muster at his sarcasm and he stilled, exhaling dramatically when the door opened. "Okay, go ahead. It's inside."

I ran to the door, almost tripping over my feet. I opened it quickly with my key and stepped inside. I looked around, a frown on my face when I saw nothing new. "Okay, where is it?"

"Wait for it." Sam closed the door before putting his hands on my shoulders, gradually embracing me from behind.

I heard it before I could see it. The sound of Peter Cahill screaming in frustration as he made his way over to us. "Finally. Take it. Take it. I hate this thing. It's too...happy. I couldn't stand being with it for three hours. Take it now."

My eyes widened at the puppy in his hands that was yapping happily. My jaw dropped as I reached out for it. "Oh my God."

"Take it. Take it now." Peter shoved the puppy in my hands and I almost screamed hugging the puppy to my chest. It was a golden retriever almost like Freddy except it's fur was black instead of golden. 

I turned around to face Sam. "You got me-"

"Yeah. Caleb and I went to find you the perfect one. And this little guy had the recessive out of his brothers and sisters. I know how much you love Andrew's dog and I figured you would want one of your own. Believe it or not I can tell when you're missing your best friend when you're here and I thought this would at least remind you of him."

"Sam," I leaned over to kiss him, only to pull back when the puppy continued barking, getting between us. "God, what are we going to name you? So it's a boy right?"

"Yeah." Then I made up my mind.

"Okay," I held him in my arms looking down at its wide eyes. "I'm going to call you Soccer."

"What?" Sam and Peter said at the same exact time.

Peter looked at me like I was insane. "This thing is going to be like your first child. For the both of you. And you want to name it soccer? What the..."

"Yeah. Soccer. You like that?" I directed the question to the puppy and he squirmed in my arms. I put him down, watching him run around our feet happily. "See, he likes it."

"He didn't say anything." Peter muttered, eyeing Soccer carefully.

"Soccer." Sam repeated, his eyes on our dog too.

"Yeah. It's perfect." I told both them.

"Your first child and you name him Soccer. I can't believe you people. Your next kid might as well be named basketball or any other godforsaken sport." Peter walked into the kitchen.