[EDITED]
Growing up a Gallagher is tough, who doesn't know that? They aren't exactly known for being saints. All they've ever known is chaos, and how to party.
So when the Gallagher's get mixed up with the Milkoviches, who have an even worse upbrin...
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ELLE'S POV.
I've never been one to steal-Well, that's a bit of a lie. I usually only steal when it's deemed absolutely necessary, like when we're desperate and strapped for cash, but today-It's out of pure spite. Contributing toward the bills is simply an added bonus.
"Fuck you, Kyle." I mutter to myself, counting a hundred bucks out of the register. Explain that to the boss, you tool. Kyle, the asshole assistant manager, fired me from the only source of income I have. It's a shitty sandwich shop that doesn't even have working heat, but it pays good enough. At least, it did before I got booted.
I shove the money into my bra before hastily yanking my jacket on, and walking right out the door. Technically, I did what they told me to. I returned my apron, my name tag, and picked up my last paycheck. I just happened to throw in a tip for myself just for the hell of it. Management are all assholes anyway. They're too cheap to so much as install security cameras or a working heater.
The bitter early-winter air smacks me in the face the second I'm out the door, reminding me to yank up my hood. I bite back the smile that tries to spread across my face as I walk down the busy street, shoving my hands in my pockets to keep them from going numb.
What are they going to do if they find out? Fire me? Please.
At least I've got my resources. Ian, my younger brother, works right down the street at a convenience store. It's nothing special, but I hang around there enough that the owners recognize me. And I'm usually on my best behavior there, so they seem to like me.
Hopefully that means they'll be more inclined to hire me. After all, I'm Ian's older sister and they seem awfully fond of him.
When I get to the end of the street, I come to an abrupt halt. Usually, I would just waltz on in and bug on Ian during his shifts if I'm around at the same time. But today, their closed sign is hung up in the window. Weird.
Ian and I walked to work together this morning, he was bitching about having to restock the heavy crates today, so I know he's in there. And, I can see a glimpse of Lip's jacket through the window. I've stolen-borrowed-it enough times to know it's his. That, and he's my twin brother, we have the exact same hair color. The only difference is he has tighter curls and mine are waves.
The cold metal of the door certainly isn't welcoming, but it opens with ease. The little bell at the top rings, obnoxiously announcing my presence to the few people in the store.
Ian's cowering back toward the freezers, clutching a box of produce close to his chest and staring at Lip like a deer caught in headlights. His breathing is hitched, struggling to catch a breath. Kash, his boss and one of the owners is standing beside him with the same fear flickering behind his eyes.
