It never occurred to me that Sam would leave while I was showering, and yet that's exactly what happened in the end. I emerged to find an empty bedroom, got dressed, and headed back downstairs.

Mother looked up from her spot in the living room when I arrived. She gave me an apologetic Look and told me, "She'll see you tomorrow at school."

I was walking a Little slowly as I trudged up the sidewalk to front door of my fourth and final "date" of the weekend. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself to be "in love" with Zofi before ringing the doorbell. But when the door opened, instead of staring at the exquisitely beautiful face of my girlfriend in front of me, I found myself staring at the equally exquisitely beautiful face of her mother.

"Uh, good afternoon, Missus Zee," I greeted reflexively, mentally castigating myself for leading with “uh” and then not saying her entire last name.

But despite my brief worry over not making a good enough first impression, Zofi's mom actually smiled at me and gestured for me to enter. "Hello, Matthew. Come on in. They're in front of the TV already," she stated in a thick accent.

I nodded and walked a little gingerly down the hallway, my Legs already stiffening up from this morning's exertion. Zofi brightened as soon as she saw me, exclaiming gleefully, “Matty! She ran up and gave me a fierce hug, followed by grabbing my head and adding a fierce kiss.

I held the kiss for just a few seconds before breaking it and Looking rather bashfully at her dad, who sat on the couch wearing a Joe Montana

#16 jersey.

He did not appear to be upset, but rather gestured at my jersey and said admiringly, “John Taylor! I am impressed."

I picked at my #82 jersey and smiled.

“Everybody has Jerry Rice jerseys, no offense," I commented while gesturing to Zofi's #80 jersey beside me.

“I tend to appreciate the teammates who otherwise get overlooked."

“A noble endeavor," he said appreciatively. "Come, sit! Game is about to start."

Zofi wrapped her arm around mine.

“Sit with me." Her blue eyes sparkled.

I smiled and rubbed her arm. "Anytime."

The game itself was unimportant, as were the two teams playing. I mean yeah, they were playing to make it into the Super Bowl next Sunday, but

I was far more interested in watching the interaction between Zofi and her dad.

It was clear he had taught her most everything he knew. Even now, when she was already a pretty knowledgeable fan, he would still automatically get into teaching mode pointing out how the offense would set up in a certain formation in order to make the defense adjust, or explain that the weakside Linebacker was showing a blitz based on his alignment. I watched the way he beamed with pride when the offense ran a reverse three seconds AFTER Zofi had already predicted it.

In a way, their dynamic reminded me of the way Alice and I played video games or talked comic books together. That's not to say that Zofi couldn't have become a football fan on her own eventually, but it seemed to me that the core reason she did become a die-hard Niners fan was because it was the main way she could bond with her father. They'd built their relationship around a shared Love of the sport, much in the way my relationship with Alice had become based on gaming.

Despite my supposed purpose of my presence being to help “prove" Zofi had a boyfriend, I was pretty much an afterthought. Zofi and her dad were quite seriously into the game, and I was sort of the bystander who occasionally made a comment or got asked a question every twenty minutes or so when Zofi realized she wasn't paying me much attention. I wasn't the only one who noticed, either.

It was late in the third quarter when I got up to get a refill of my

Coke. Zofi's mom was in the kitchen and asked, “Can I get you something?"

I held up my empty glass as an answer, and she crossed to the refrigerator to retrieve the 2-liter bottle for me.

“Don't take it personally," she advised while head-nodding into the TV room.