Togetherness

22

Parker:

After we got done at David's house, I watch him prepare to forget everything that he's lived through in that house. He packed up some boxes with a few possessions in it that are in the back and we're on our way to my house. Well, I suppose, technically, it's now our house. His old house isn't far from mine so we're pulling into the driveway before I knew it.

I help carry the boxes into the spare room, setting them in a corner before going to go check on my dad. I find him in his recliner, dozing in and out. The Kansas City Chiefs game is on, the halftime report saying that Aaron Rodgers, the quarterback for the Packers, had broken his collar bone and that he probably would be out for the rest of the season.

Leaving Dad to his own business, such as napping and yelling at the TV when he wakes up, I walk to my room to change out of my slacks and dress shirt into something more comfortable. Unbuttoning my shirt while walking, I dig through my drawers to find some old gym shorts or something. Finding my search successful, I slide the shirt off of my shoulders and slip out of my slacks. I had taken off my Converse by the door earlier. Kicking the discarded clothes over to one side, I stick my left leg and then my right through the shorts. In the living room, I hear Dad yell, "truck that stupid little bitch, about fucking tired of this Steeler bullshit." Chuckling to myself, I begin the search of finding a shirt.

"Hey, Parker- I'll go." David walks into my room and walks right out after seeing me. I laugh and continue this seemingly fruitless search for a shirt. I know I did laundry earlier, where did all of it go? Finally, I find an old, blue tee shirt and slip that on.

Sliding down the hallway into the living room in my socks, I almost knock over a lamp and also almost fell backwards to my death. Dad's still awake, looking pissed. I glance at the screen and see that the Steelers are winning 12-3 in the fourth quarter. The Chiefs were previously undefeated but this game is to end that win streak. David's sitting on the couch, watching the game alongside my dad.

"Hey, guys," I say.

"Hi, swee- OH, IT'S FUCKING HOLDING," Dad screams at the TV.

"Hi, Parker," David says, much more calmly than Captain Freakout.

"GO, GO, GO, GO! YES!" Dad yells as the Chiefs run the ball for a touchdown, making the score 12-10. If they had kicked a field goal earlier in the game, they'd be winning.

I sit next to David, who changed into sweatpants and a shirt after we got home. My dad knew that his mom died and after the funeral, I had texted him, asking him if David could live with us and he was okay with it. I sling my legs over David's, leaning back against the arm of the couch. 

"GODDAMN IT. FUCKING LUCKY PRICKS. GODDAMN IT." The Steelers caught the ball and ran it in for a touchdown, ruining the score.

"You okay, Dad?"

"Yeah, I'm great," he grumbles.

"Okay..." David and I share a look about how he's not okay.

A few minutes later, Tyreek Hill catches the ball and runs it to the fifty before getting hit by two guys at once.

"Is he hurt?" Dad asks as players start crowding around Hill. "Oh, god, he's hurt." When the game's down to less than a minute left, the Chiefs throw an incomplete pass that a Pitt player almost intercepted. "It's over. They're not gonna catch up."

"At least they didn't pick it off," David says lightly.

"Yeah, true," Dad says, sighing.

An hour after the Chiefs game is over, the Giants play the Broncos on Sunday Night Football. The Giants are going to get slaughter by the Donkeys but at least we're gonna get slaughtered on primetime.