GAME OVER ━━ Lip Gallagher

CHAPTER SIX

          "What the fuck did you just say?" she asked, a newfound fire building in her belly. All of those years of torment for her race, her features, was all coming back. She could remember the kids in her grade pulling her hair, calling her Mulan, or how they'd pull at the sides of their eyes in mockery towards her. She gritted her teeth and stomped toward the trio. Mickey glanced over his shoulder for a split second. "No, you stop right there, Milkovich. You piece of hobo shit on the sidewalk." Before he could walk any further, she grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and yanked. He whirled around to face her, surprised.

          Her face was twisted in anger. She grabbed at his collar, forcing him closer and lower to her level. "Listen here you David Bowie wannabe little shit," she snarled. "I may look like I can't handle myself, but if you say one more thing about my eyes or, or my race, I won't hesitate to kick the shit out of you." He blinked at her. Joey Milkovich grabbed her shoulder with a firm grip and pulled her back. She stumbled on her feet for a moment. "Back off, chink," he spat in her face. She felt every ounce of blood in her body boil. She clenched her hands into fists. "I'm Korean, you fuckwad." Without any warning, she cocked back and flung her fist, connecting with his wide nose.

A searing pain spread across her knuckles, forcing tears to well up in her eyes. She bit down onto her bottom lip and exhaled heavily through her nose as she clutched her hand to her chest. "Have some culture, white bread ape man." The boy clutched his aching nose. She hadn't hit hard enough to make him bleed, but she could faintly see color building at his eyes. Mickey was quick to step in when he moved to charge at Phoebe, but she was already gone. She laughed at her own courage and took off running, aiming straight for the Gallagher residence.

          She couldn't stop. She reveled in the way the wind bit at her skin. She felt so free, like she could breathe with ease despite the heavy cold air pushing against her. Her laughter rang like bells in the air, a smile evident on her face. She had long forgotten the pain in her fist, too focused on the rush infiltrating her body with its poison. As she ran around the corner, Phoebe spotted Tony getting in his squad car. She waved toward him, using the fence as support once she came to a full stop. She breathed heavily, the cold air burning her lungs. "What had you running so fast?" Tony asked once the window rolled down.

          She waved the question off with a laugh. "Just exercising. I don't want to end up being old and fat, you know. Gotta keep in shape," she fibbed. Jokingly, she held up her arms in a pose before waving once more. Finished with the conversation, Phoebe jogged up the front steps and entered the house with a sigh. "Hello," she called out, zipping up her jacket once she felt the coldness of the room. "Phoebe!" Fiona called out, "Kitchen!" She did, however, take off her gloves and slipped them into her pockets. "What is Tony Tiger doing outside?" she jokingly asked, only to drop the teasing once she spotted Lip's face.

          "Mickey did that?" she asked. Lip looked down, obviously ashamed of losing that fight. Fiona looked between the two before focusing on her younger brother. "Mickey Milkovich?" she asked for clarification. Lip ignored the question and looked to Phoebe. "How did you know?" he asked. Suddenly, he could feel that familiar sense of worry overtake him. He knew the things kids used to say toward her, and how much of a ticking time bomb she could be. On the outside, though, she looked fine. "He and his goon squad stopped me on the way here. He told me that he..." She stopped, wincing as she flexed her fingers. She took the seat beside Fiona with a frown.

          "What did he do?" Lip asked. He sat up a bit, trying to get a better view as Phoebe hid her bruising knuckles in her lap. "He didn't do anything. One of those idiots called me a name," she admitted. Veronica turned toward Phoebe, eyes narrowed. As a person of color herself, she had a good understanding of what was going through her head. Kids could be mean. America, the land of the free, wasn't as free as it promoted. "Let me see," she instructed the girl, tapping against the table top. Phoebe's eyes turned pleading as she tilted her head, begging Veronica to just drop it. "Wait, what did he call you?" Fiona asked. Lip winced as Veronica took a large q tip and began cleaning the cut above his eyebrow.