Petite

14 - Disc Jockey Equipments vs Books

I watch the my parents get comfortable in my room while I stand like a stranger.

My dad is at one end, sitting on the chair in front of my desk while my mom is on my bed with a pillow on her lap.

I don't know how long we've been in my room but I can say it's long enough for all of us to have had the conversation.

I have an idea of what their going to say. I don't know why my dad is here as I know that the conversation will be between me and mom.

Girls thing and motherly advice.

I wait. Not like I have another choice. I wait patiently while taping my feet gently on the floor. Waiting for them to say what has been choking them since I finished secondary school.

If only my brother were here, he would have hastened things but I think he's on a video call with...someone.

'You still play with these toys?" My dad asks. His eyes trained at my disc jockey equipments.

Why would he even call my equipments 'toys'? Such audacity!

I sigh. Trying hard to bury my rising irritation. "Daddy, they are-"

"Not toys, abi?" he completes my sentence, giving me a side look with a silly smile on his face. "I hope you know you're not going to play in Canada. I don't want a situation whereby you will send a message to your mum and I, that you've dropped out of school. Baby girl, I will disown you."

My mum whips her head in his direction and from the look on her face, she's not pleased with his statement.

"Daddy, I'm not dropping out of school but I love my disc jockey equipments." I say.

His right brow lifts up in question. As if waiting for another sentence from me but I can't help but disappoint.

"Darling, she will be fine. Trust me on this." my mum finally speaks which earns her my dad's attention and a chuckle.

"So you're saying, when you get to Canada, you will face your books? I still don't get why you won't say you love your books." he continues.

'What's all these this morning?'

I'm about to cry. I can't be doing this over and over again. How many times will I explain to my dad that this is what I love and it can't take me away from my books.

It's a hobby, yes. But I still know when to put down that hobby and ace a test.

The fact that he doesn't get me yet tries not to, surprisingly hurts more. I can't wait to leave his house-

"Didnt you hear me?" he asks, tearing me from my thoughts.

I walk close to him, taking his hand. "I love you and Mum. I love my disc jockey equipments and-"

"Yes and?"

I stare into his eyes filled with expectation. I know what he wants to hear.

"I don't love my books."

But I won't give it.

I dash out of my room, laughing as I go. I can hear him following closely behind and calling after me.

"Sophia, come back here!" he yells!

"No. You can't force me to love what I don't." I run to the sitting room and go round the couch.

"If I catch you, Ehn!" he threatens and he does when I'm about to run again.

I'm not fast enough and he catches me. I squeal when he grabs my waist and lifts me.

"I love my books! God help me dad, I love them!" I confess before he even begins to spin.

"Good girl."