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“Ay, Gabriella! At least wait until I finish parking the car!” Miguel barked as his daughter hastily undid her seatbelt and yanked the door open. He’d only just pulled into a parking spot by the field and hadn’t even rolled to a complete stop yet. Thankfully, he shifted gears just as Gabriella jumped.
“We’re going to be *late*, Papi!” Gabriella whined, fidgeting as she stood by the now parked car. Despite her little stunt, she knew better than to run off before her dad had even gotten out of the car. “Come on, come on!”
Miguel clicked his tongue, shooting his daughter a look but the sting didn’t land. It never did. Try as he might on occasion, so he could at least pretend to be a disciplined dad, he could never stay angry at his little princess. Whatever she wanted, she got.
“As if I’d ever let you be late for soccer practice, We’re merely late to being early,” Miguel replied sarcastically, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening up his own door. Just to be a shit, he took his sweet time getting out of the car even if he was just as eager to get Gabi to practice.
“Just because you can’t live without your frappuccino, Papi- Coach you!!” Gabriella’s sass attack on her father was abruptly abandoned when she spotted her beloved coach. In her excitement, she also completely missed the way her father’s head snapped up at the mention of you’s name.
There they were, running over to greet them. The sole reason Miguel dropped Gabriella off at practice early, stayed the whole time and left a little late.
you.
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