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Cal:

So I went to her basketball game, just like I promised. Sukie elbowed me before we made it to the bleachers.
"Don't embarrass me."

I scoff. "You have to learn to trust your father at some point."

"No yelling. You can clap and cheer."

"Can I be one of those competitive, obnoxious dads that yell at their daughters from the bleachers?"

"No."

"What about one of those dads that run onto the court when someone pushes you and you get hurt?"

"No."

"What about—"

"Cya, dad." Sukie says rolling her eyes and walking away, but I catch her smiling to herself.

I smile after her, parting off to the side to sit on the bleachers. I sit down, checking my watch every so often, knowing that the game should be starting soon. I watch Sukie make a layup while she warms up, and I grin when she quickly glances at me to make sure I wouldn't stand up and cheer.

"Cal! I didn't expect you to be here! Are you here for your daughter?"

I press my lips together. I know that voice. It's Rachel, a mother whose kid is also on the team. She constantly continues to try and hook me up with her sister.

"Yeah." I say plastering a polite smile on my face.

"Susie, right?" She says too brightly.

"Sukie." I correct.

"Yeah, well. Anyways, if I'd known you were coming here I would have brought one of my friends here. Do you know Sarah? Sarah Coleman? She's a complete doll, a little scatterbrained but—"

"I'm not looking to meet anyone for a while, thank you though." I interrupt.

"Oh." She says surprised. She pauses and I take the opportunity to glance back at the court, the referee tossing the ball in the air for the tip-off.

A tap on my shoulders and I spin back around.
"Yes?"

"I read somewhere online that it's healthy to move on. It's important to not let kids take over your life and make you depressed." She claims.

I press my lips together. "I'm okay. Thank you." I say a bit more sternly.

"Oh I'm sorry." Rachel says then slapping her pa against her forehead. "I'm being so rude. Of course Susie is helping you. You know my daughter Ella always helps me with my work. Some problems I just don't understand, you know? It's so hard to—"

"Go Sukie!" I yell out when I watch her make a shot. She raises an eyebrow, but quickly sees that I'm in need of desperate help and gives me the thumbs up quickly.

"I have the sudden urge to the use bathroom, excuse me." I say quickly before Rachel can start up again.

I quickly make my way down the bleachers and out the side door before I hear a hard thud. I turn around and a scream emits from one girl, then another, followed by more. I quickly step around to see a crumpled body laying on the ground. Referees blow whistles and command people to back away, and a coach runs over to the girl.

"Sukie?" The coach says, "Sukie you'll be okay, just hold on." Suddenly she rolls her over and Sukie's eyes are closed, her skin pale and her body still.

"Shit." I curse, and I run across the court.
"What's wrong?!" I yell then, falling to my knees next to my daughter.

"I think it's a stroke." Her coach says, and she lays her hands on her chest, giving it a few pumps. "Get the defib. Quick. Call 911. I'll perform CPR on her for now."

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