What Happens In Brazil Stays With Him.

Chapter 5

I wrap the white towel around my body and head over to my closest. Grabbing the first set of pajamas I see-which is basically a blue Philippe Coutinho shirt and black shorts-I slip it on, on top of my undergarments. I grab my phone from my nightstand and type a message to Chloe, my best friend. We don't really see each other often. She lives on the other side of town and doesn't really have time due to work. She's a make-up artist and damn is she good.

Me: I'm going to Russia on Friday.

Immediately my phone chimes and I see a text from Chloe.

Chloe💦💙: WTF DO YOU MEAN?

I chuckle at her name.

Me: world soccer magazine is sending me to Russia to cover the world cup.

I walk downstairs to the kitchen, where my family has dinner every night except Fridays. On Fridays we order take out and eat in the lounge while watching movies. Or we go out to some fancy restaurant where the food looks too precious to even eat.

As I walk towards the dinner table at the far end of kitchen, near the window, my phone chimes again.

Chloe: omg. This is so awesome! Have you told your parents?

While taking a seat at the window, next to Michael, I quickly type.

Me: nope. Gunna do that now. I'll tell you how it goes.

With that, I lock my phone and leave it on the table.

"Sophia, could you come help me here?" Mom says from the kitchen island. I nod and walk to her.

She hands me the garlic bread and mushroom sauce to keep on the table. I place it on the table and go back to my mother.

"Take the water as well, please. After that you can take a seat. I'll bring the fried chicken and mashed potatoes," she says. I grab the glass water jug and place it onto the dinner table, afterwards I take a seat. Michael is impatiently fidgeting with the hem on his shirt. 

"What's wrong?" I ask him.

He takes his eyes off of his shirt and looks up at me.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just really hungry," he says and grins, embarrassed.

"Okay. Dad will be here soon," as if some sort of telepathic communication had just occurred, dad enters the kitchen and sits at the head of the table. He smiles at me and then turns to Michael.

"How was school, Michael?" He asks

"It was good. Hannah and I got to paint as a team. Our teacher said it was the best from everyone else's in the class. But we know she says that to everyone," he says causing dad and I to laugh.

Grandma and mom each take a seat and Dad says grace, and immediately we begin to devour the scrumptious food.

"Soph, how was work?" Grandma asks and I stop chewing for a moment.

"Uh, it wasn't too bad. My colleague's mom past away, so he is going back home. Meaning, I have to handle everything here."

Dad clears his throat and begins to speak, "Y'know, when I first started work I had to run everything on my own. It was tough for the first few days but after a week I got used to the stress. Now, I don't even bother when something goes wrong at work. Why? Because now I know how to face the problem properly. You'll get used to it, and you're a smart girl. You will be fine," he says and I smile awkwardly.

"Thanks, dad."

I continue eating my fried chicken as Michael tells us stories about his teacher, friends and his best friend; Hannah. Yes, he has a crush on her.