“Divas don’t camp,” she mumbled as she looked out the window of the passenger side. Why the hell did she have to go on this stupid trip?
He reverted from rolling his eyes. God forbid he tried to act like a father who gave a fuck. Didn’t he need to spend time with his daughter so she wouldn’t grow up with daddy issues and turn into a slut? He heard that somewhere, Oprah or Reddit, he wasn’t sure, but it had to be true. He breathed deeply, “I’m just trying to spend some time with you and bond.”
“Yeah, well you’re a couple years too late, Dad,” she emphasized the last word to mock him.
What a sassy little bitch this kid was, and yet he wasn’t angry when she so poorly attempted to insult him. For a second, he saw a little bit of himself within her. It amused him. He supposed she must be his after all.
“My bad Princess, oh I apologize, I meant Diva, I didn’t realize you hated camping. The thing is that the Justin Bieber concert was sold out, and I’m just in no mood to go to a spa so, why not camping?”
She laughed out loud. He wasn’t sure if it was fake or genuine. Did she find him funny or was she getting more irritated? Why did he care so much?
They both sat in the car for another 15 minutes in silence. He admitted to himself that he could have been a better father, but his job was so demanding. Sure, he might have not spent all the time in the world with her, but he made sure that he gave that kid everything she ever needed, ever since her Mom pushed her out at 17. Plus, did it not count that he was trying to be a better Dad, now? He had requested off of work, he had moved his whole week’s schedule for this shit, and now she was, well, being a diva.
They pulled up the mountain to find a roadblock. Woodburn Camping Site closed due to wildfire. The irony, the bullshit—a 45 minute drive upstate done in vain because of a natural disaster that also served as a pun.
“Is this real life?” she asked between giggles.
He couldn’t help but join her, “Big Man upstairs has a sense of humor I guess.”
The car whipped a crazy U-turn all sorts of illegal. She looked over at her father, who she was a spitting image of, only she had long hair, and she was finally growing some boobs, though they were barely mosquito bites at this point. She told herself she would be nicer, or at least she would try. This is what she always wanted, for him to finally seek her out and not just hand her a credit card or some designer jewelry. Why was she being so spiteful? Better late than never, right?
“Never late is better,” she said out loud.
“What was that?,” he asked confused.
“I..uhh…I actually hate Justin Bieber, you know.” She turned on the radio, and messed around with the Bluetooth until her iPhone was paired. She played some rap, pretending not to notice that he knew every single word. He pretended not to notice her smiling.
Lorenza Jerez