GAME OVER ━━ Lip Gallagher

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

          "She was my mother. I'm the one who's hurting here," Frank whined. Phoebe shook her head, clearing her throat. Fiona scoffed. "Yeah, well that was the Cook County Hospital Morgue. You need to claim her body or they're gonna cremate her." Frank stood up suddenly, shaking his head. "I am done running around trying to please that woman," he announced. "Grammy died?" Debbie suddenly entered the kitchen with Liam on her hip. She looked between everyone in confusion. "Debbie!" Monica exclaimed upon seeing her youngest daughter. "Oh, Liam." She approached the two hastily, "Look at you, my little brown bear." Debbie stared back at her mother in confusion. "Oh, look how big you are!" Liam was now in Monica's arms and the woman brushed back Debbie's red locks from her face.

          Debbie glanced at Fiona. "How long is she staying?" she asked. Fiona was about to respond, or maybe finally deal with the girl hiding in the corner, but Monica interrupted her. "Only forever and a day!" Phoebe shoveled another fork full of fluffy pancakes into her mouth. "Are my camo pants still in the dryer?" At the sound of Ian's voice, Phoebe stuffed the remainder of her pancake in her mouth. "Ian! It's Ian!" The redhead stared amazed at the person in front of him. That sarcastic smirk plastered onto his face. "Hell is she doing here?" he asked, pushing past her. Phoebe placed her plate and fork into the sink, sucking the syrup from her fingers. "Let's go?" she spoke up, pointing toward the front door, praying that Ian was ready to go. "Um, no—"

          "I asked your mother to come home," Frank stated, once again seated at the table. "Oh, wait, you live here now too?" Fiona grabbed Phoebe's arm and directed her toward the living room, away from the chaos in the kitchen. "Lip staying with you?" she asked, her hands falling to her hips. Phoebe's eyes widened suddenly, unable to formulate coherent sentences. "N–No, what? Why would... That's crazy, I mean—" She ran a nervous hand through her hair, a shy smile forming on her face. "Yes, he is," she finally admitted, unable to lie to Fiona. Fiona sighed. "I couldn't let him sleep on the street, Fi. Lip's basically my left side, you know? We're like Chip and Dale, or Shaggy and Scooby." Fiona waved her hand in front of the girl, cutting off the rant that was sure to come. "You need to talk him back into finishing school."

"I swear I'm trying. He's so stubborn."

"If anyone can do it, you can."

          Phoebe scoffed. "No pressure, right?" Fiona took hold of her shoulders, holding her tight. Phoebe stared at her with confusion. "If he doesn't cave, I want you to kick him out." Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Her brain couldn't wrap around the thought of Lip living on his own. "Fiona," she went to argue, but the stern gaze on the brunette's face shut her up. "He has to finish school, Pheebs." Phoebe felt sick to her stomach. She didn't want to do this. Why did she have to get stuck with this part? "Okay?" She wanted to shake her head. There was no way she was going to let her best friend sleep on the L train or on the Alibi's front steps. "Okay," she sighed, giving Fiona a tight lipped smile. "Can I go to school now?"

          Phoebe didn't think Fiona wanted to do this. There were bags growing under her eyes. Her skin was pale. She didn't look like she was sleeping very well. "Yeah," the older girl sighed, releasing the girl's shoulders and placing her hands once more on her hips. "Things will work out," Phoebe blurted out with blind optimism. "He's gonna come to his senses. He's just got to lick his wounds a bit." Fiona nodded her head. "Get to school, okay?" Phoebe smiled sadly toward Fiona. Fuck, she thought. Damn Gallaghers and their drama.

—

          "Are you crashing here or Karen's tonight?" Alan asked as he plopped down on the couch beside Lip. He took the joint held out to him and placed it between his lips. "Here if that's okay. Karen said she's gonna charge me a hundred bucks for rent. Can you believe that?" The front door finally opened and in walked a tired Phoebe. She sighed as the door closed behind her, going through the motion as she locked the door and tossed her jacket onto the coat rack. "I'd rather fucking die than do this paper," she stated, lethargically stumbling into the living room. "Is that weed?" Both Lip and Alan glanced back at the girl in amusement. "Here." Alan held it out for her, arm outstretched over the back of the couch. She took it with a small smile.