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Game Over
chapter twenty five
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TRIGGER WARNING !!
mentions of rape and sexual
assault.
MOST PEOPLE START REMEMBERING THINGS ONCE THEY HIT THE HALF MARK OF TWO YEARS OLD. Phoebe always thought that fact was insane. Her first memory she could really recall was on the day of her sixth birthday. She had asked for a party, which was thrown at her school. The teacher had bought her a cake from the grocery store. She remembered that because it was an awful shade of green, and perhaps that spurred the idea of green being her upmost favorite color. The kids would gather around and sing her happy birthday off key, but there was always something missing. Her parents weren't there to celebrate with her. They hadn't contributed to the party at all. When she thanked them later that night, they didn't even know what she was talking about.
That memory was the first of many terrible ones. She could remember at age seven when Chris Kumpter pushed her off of the top of the slide because she was a girl and girls weren't allowed on the big slide. She had to get stitches in her hairline later that day. She could remember when she got her first period at ten and bled through her favorite pair of lime green shorts and the kids in her class laughed and laughed, making fun of her until she locked herself in the bathroom. Her parents wouldn't even answer the phone to bring her a change of clothes, so she had to wear her teacher's cardigan around her waist for the rest of the day. She remembered when she was twelve and slept outside in the old dog house because she had came home from being scared at a slumber party (she wasn't really scared, the girls were just assholes).
She didn't know if she could categorize this memory as a bad one. On one hand, her parents tossed her aside like week old leftovers. But on the other, she was finally free from the constant feeling of being alone somewhere she was meant to feel loved. She no longer had to beg for attention from two people who couldn't and wouldn't spare any. She didn't have to worry about awkward dinners or the wrath of her father all because she did one dumb thing. She was no longer stuck in a smoke filled bubble. She could breathe, though Chicago air isn't too much better with the amount of pollution it creates. She had a suitcase rolling behind while a duffle bag bounced against her right side with every step she took.
There was only one place she could think of going. Sure they had enough people there, but they wouldn't turn her away. She'd get a job, help pay for what she's using. Her boots crunched over the brown ice covering the sidewalk. The street lights were on, illuminating the walk to the Gallagher household. The bottom of her suitcase was already wet and she knew that if she didn't get it dry any time soon that it would mildew. Just as she was going to turn the corner, she noticed a shadowed figure walking her way. They were bundled up, but she'd notice that person in a dark room. "Moving somewhere?" A sigh left her lips as her shoulders sagged forward. "Hopefully?"
It took her a moment to notice the red burning in front of him. He was smoking, which didn't come as a surprise. It was an addiction he's had since they were fourteen. "Wait, really?" he asked as he finally came to stop in front of her. She let go of the handle of her suitcase and let her arm fall to her side, hand slapping against the outside of her thigh. "What the fuck happened?" She felt her chest tighten at the question. It was dumb to feel so awful about what happened. She had stood her ground, said what she needed to say. If anything, it was a win for her. But she still felt terrible about it. "I got kicked out," she breathed out, using her hand to wave away her words with nonchalance. "No big deal, though."
No big deal?, she thought with a soft scoff. She didn't understand why she was belittling the situation. She was now homeless. The only constant she had in that moment was her schooling. "No, you know what," she sighed, "it kind of is a big deal. I don't have anywhere else to go.." Lip stared back at Phoebe. There was a part of him that wanted to grab her suitcase and carry it back to the house. He would be happy to have her there, being able to talk to her every day, watch their favorite shows, feel like a family. But there was another part of him that hesitated. Every woman he ever cared about let him down. Monica, Fiona at times, and now Karen. He wasn't sure he could get over it if Phoebe did the same.
"What I'm getting at is... I'm asking if I can stay with you guys. I can get a job, help with bills, clean, cook. I don't care. I know how to unstop a toilet and I'm good at making grilled cheese sandwiches." Lip's head ducked, trying his best to avoid her eyes. His heart was beating too fast in his chest, echoing in his ears. It made his brain pulse with it in a terrible headache. "Yeah, I don't know," he responded, tone much harsher than he had intended. "You know, we're kind of going through the ringer right now. With, um, Steve ghosting Fiona and Frank fucking my girlfriend—" After that word rolled off his tongue, it seemed to hover in the air like a thick cloud of smoke. His voice died in his throat, eyes widening. Phoebe stared at him in surprise.
Had he and Karen made it official? Frank and Karen had sex? His tongue prodded at his cheek while his gloved hands forced their way through his tangled locks. "Did she tell you?" was all she could think to ask. Her eyes narrowed as a grimace crawled across her face. Lip chuckled dryly. He dug through his pockets until he took out an iPod touch he had found under the bleachers at their school. He had used an illegal way to save the video to the device, almost punishing himself. "Nope," he forced out, already pulling up the video and tossing the device toward his best friend. She almost didn't catch it, but gasped once she saw the once blonde riding his father with such vigor that the recliner they sat on rocked against the wall with each bounce.
Though slurred, Frank could be heard refusing the actions done to him. He repeated "no" over and over, hands clutching the recliner as to not touch her. He begged her to stop, but Karen didn't stop. Phoebe covered her mouth as she watched the train wreck happening on the small screen. "Fucked up, right?" Lip sneered. "But I should have expected it. It's fucking Frank, you know?" Phoebe could tell that Lip was looking for someone to blame. That was his biggest flaw. He didn't want to believe someone he cared so deeply about would hurt him, thus turning to blame the person who never stops hurting him. Phoebe locked the device and held it out to Lip with a frown.
"Didn't you hear him, though?" she asked carefully. When Lip didn't respond, she continued. "Lip, Frank was saying no. Karen was raping him." Her words stewed in the air between them. Lip's angered expression slipped only for a moment before he shook his head. His red cheeks burned against the cold air outside. "He could have stopped her," he argued. "He could have pushed her off. He's a grown man. He could have stopped her himself." Phoebe scoffed at the audacity Lip had. How could he still be angry with his father? How could he still blame Frank for what happened? "You're not serious," she replied in disbelief. "Karen raped him. She forced herself on him while he was obviously intoxicated. I mean, when is Frank ever sober?"
She closed her mouth as soon as Lip turned away. She knew that she was pushing him further. He was already fuming with anger, but the fact that she was arguing with him clearly angered him more. Suddenly, he whirled to face her again, pointing an accusatory finger in her direction. With narrowed eyes and a tilted head, he spoke, "You're seriously taking his side? Frank? The man who forgot me at the grocery store after they denied him access to the beer aisle? The man that calls you his own personal calculator? The man that hit on your mom and stole your old phone?" She breathed out a heavy sigh, a cloud of white materializing before her. Frank wasn't a saint. If anything, he deserved the hell he received, but no one deserved this.
"You know what," she exhaled. She met Lip's eyes with a frown, holding her chin higher. "Yeah. I am. And you should too, you asshole." She wanted to shake him. Why was he being so stubborn? "I never expected you to be so fucking blind," he spat. "He fucked her! He was inside of her!" Fully fueled by the anger she felt, she stomped forward and grabbed Lip by the collar of his jacket. Her fingers almost ripped into the fabric. "Get it through your thick ass skull, Phillip," she seethed, face entirely too close to the boy's in front of her. Her eyes shook as she held his gaze. He looked shocked by her sudden movements. "He said no. She had sex with him against his will. No matter how you feel about either of them, Karen raped Frank. She isn't the victim here. Frank is."
He remained silent. The only sound she could hear was their heavy breathing. His was forced out of his nose, his lips pressed into a tight line. The muscle in his jaw was taut. Slowly, she released his jacket and backed away just far enough to be vacant of his personal space. "It's... It's not the first time she took advantage of someone either, Lip." Her heartbeat picked up. It drummed in her ears like a marching band at halftime during the state championships. Her throat felt swollen from a lump forming there. She could feel a cold sweat drip down her back. She wished she had told him sooner. "What is it?" he barked, growing tired of the conversation. He was tired of this back and forth. He was tired of being the bad guy.
"She called me up the night you were with Danielle," she admitted. She not once broke eye contact with him. She needed him to know how serious she was, how sorry she felt for not telling him. "She kissed me. And she tried to get me to sleep with her. I didn't, though! You're my best friend and I knew that things were getting kind of serious—" She broke out of her rambling when she noticed Lip's head falling. He took a step backwards, his head shaking, and finally turned away. "Wait, where are you going?" she asked, confused. Was he mad at her? Lip ignored her as he walked down the sidewalk. Leaving her things behind, Phoebe jogged a bit to catch up. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"
"I don't want to talk to you!" he fired back. His steps quickened. He ignored the stinging in his eyes or the way the cold air burned his throat. "I don't care! Stop!" She grabbed a firm hold of his jacket and jerked him to a stop. He felt her face grow warmer as his anger bubbled. "What, you don't believe me? Is that it?" she asked incredulously. "Do you really think I'd lie about something like this?" He shook his head. That was one thing he did know for certain, Phoebe wasn't a liar when it came to the Gallaghers. There were fibs here and there, but they knew her too well. She never got away with them. "God, this isn't about you, Phoebe." His eyes screwed closed as his knuckles pressed into them.
A sarcastic laugh left his mouth. "I can't do this. Not right now." Her mouth clamped shut as she watched him back away once more. "I'm sorry," was all he said before leaving her on the sidewalk. She waited, hoped that he would turn around. She didn't want him to do this on his own. She didn't want him to do something monumentally stupid. But she wasn't his mother, or his keeper. She was only his friend, and at that moment, she felt insignificant. She turned back and trudged toward her bags, kicking snow out from under her feet. What a way to kick off your independence, she thought.
—
Knock, knock. She toed at the flooring beneath her, her fingers absentmindedly tugging at the hem of her shirt. She had a sliver of hope, one so small that it felt like a razor blade when it was pulled taut. She puffed out her cheeks. Knock, knock, knock. Her knuckles continued to thump against the door. She waited a few more seconds before stepping over to the side. The curtains were drawn. Though the house was dark and the street light behind her casted a glare, she could vaguely see his shoes tossed to the side. She sighed heavily. Moving back in front of the door, she knocked a few more times, calling out his name.
Soon enough, heavy footsteps approached her. She felt her stomach twist. There was a part of her that didn't want to ask him this. She didn't want to seem like she was clingy, or even a bit of a possessive person. But the other part of her knew that she wouldn't last sleeping outside for the night. She froze in hot weather. Locks began to click before the door was pulled open. His shirt was invisible, the band of his grey boxers hugging high up on his waist. His joggers were loose at his hips, the strings hanging between his legs. "Pheebs?" His voice was deep, scratchy. She must have just woken him up. "I'm sorry," she sighed with a small smile. "I've got a favor, though."
Alan rubbed tenderly at his eyes. One hand scratched at his chest while the other scratched away the sleep from his eyes. "Yeah," he replied tiredly. Once he cracked open his eyes, he gave her his full attention. He reached forward and took her hand with a small grin. She felt her cheeks heat up at his touch. "I got kicked out." She decided to rip off the bandaid. Beating around the bush would only further her embarrassment and make her feel ten times worse about what she was needing to ask. She scrunched up her nose. "And I need a place to stay. You can say no, of course! So, you don't have to say yes if you feel uncomfortable."
His grin spread across his face. Gently, he tugged her forward until he could wrap his arms around her. "Are you crazy?" he asked, a small giggle leaving his lips. His forehead came to rest on hers. "My place is all yours. I'd be an idiot to turn you away." His hands ran along her sides, gripping the thick fabric of her jacket. "I mean, seeing you when I wake up and before I go to sleep— wow," he exhaled a dreamy sigh, pulling away to get a good look at the flush on her cheeks. "Dream come true." Her hands itched to take hold of him and never let go. As her eyes held his, that burning feeling in her chest worsened. She felt her lips curl into a smile, her cheeks warm and red.
The cold air had nothing on the warmth spreading throughout her belly. She let out a soft laugh, her head falling against his chest. "You're such a romantic," she muttered shyly. Instinctively, his hand came to smooth over her hair. She could hear his heartbeat from where her head rested. "Go ahead and go inside. I'll get your bags." She shook her head, wrapping her arms around his torso. Her cheek pressed against his cheek firmly as she held him there, relishing in the moment. He felt his own stomach tie into knots at their proximity. He ran his fingers through her tangled locks. They were cold against her skin as they grazed over the nape of her neck. "C'mon, Pheebs. It's cold," he joked, finally wrapping his arms around her.
He took in a deep inhale of air before picking her up in his arms. Slowly, he turned until he could set her inside the doorway, away from the cold night air. "Are you hungry?" he asked once she was on her feet. "We could run to the gas station and pick up some snacks. I think I got some quick and easy shit like macaroni." He continued to ramble as he climbed down the front steps to grab her bags. "I also got soda and water. If you wanna take a shower, I got hot water. Or even a bath. Granted, its a little gross, but you can still take one." He climbed the steps without stopped, slipping beside her and pausing just long enough to press a kiss to her cheek. "I have towels, soap, even though cool fizzing things. I like how they smell, so."
She watched in amusement as he closed the front door and locked every latch. "You also have me, you know, if you're into that. I wash your back, you wash mine." A loud laugh bursted from her mouth. She quickly covered it with her hands, but nothing could muffle the sound. Pure amusement flushed across her face, leaving behind its pink kisses. His hands came to rest at his waist. "I thought the offer was nice. You're just mean," he teased, shaking his head solemnly. She wanted to respond. She grabbed his arm with wide eyes, tears glittering within them. "No, no," she giggled. Her other hand finally left her face and moved to grab his waistband. "No, it's not you, baby boy."
His heart skipped a beat at the use of the nickname. "No, I just didn't expect this. You're just..." She paused to catch her breath, wiping underneath her eyes. "You're just so sweet." She snapped his waistband, biting down on her bottom lip to hide the wide smile. He ducked his head just enough to hide the blush on his cheeks. "I am kind of hungry though and mac and cheese sounds amazing." His hands came to cup her face, lifting her chin just enough to have her eyes meeting his. Softly, he pressed his lips to hers. She sighed against his mouth, hands instinctively moving to hold his wrists. Her eyes closed and she melted into his touch. He pulled away shortly after, his thumbs rubbing along her reddened cheeks.
"Alright," he sighed, breath fanning over her face. She scrunched up her nose. "And I could use a shower." He pecked the tip of her nose before moving to her cheeks. "I'll cook, you shower. Then we'll find somewhere to put your stuff in my room." She nodded in response. She wasn't sure whether it was excitement or anxiety making her chest feel so heavy. In his room, she thought. Things were aligning for them. She was starting to feel grateful that she didn't go with the Gallagher's. "Okay," she breathed out. "Thank you. For letting me stay." He waved her off nonchalantly, his face scrunching up. She grinned at his silly antics. Oh, she was so excited for what the future held in store.
He leaned forward just enough that his nose brushed against her cheek. She leaned into his warmth with a content smile. "I'm only helping you fall in love with me faster," he teased. Her body became warm, like she was sitting in a sauna. Her eyes widened in surprise at how honest he was. His left eye dropped in a wink before he turned and headed into the kitchen, leaving her to stand in the foyer completely gobsmacked.
Shit, she thought. It's working.
from rumi . . .
OH MY GOD. ITS OVER.
ACT ONE IS OVER.
i'm actually a little sad? which is
dumb because i'm not even
finished with the whole book. but
there's still a part of me that's sad.
what's your favorite part of the chapter?
i know this chapter had a bit of a tough
topic, but i'm glad phoebe did stick up
for frank. no one did and that isn't fair.
but now we've got roomies alan +
phoebe and i can definitely see them
being like an old married couple.
who else is excited? 👀
ANYWAY THANK YOU FOR
READING AND STICKING WITH
ME THIS FAR! i don't know how long
this break will last but i am super
excited for what's to come. see
you soon! 🤍
don't forget to vote + comment!