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Game Over
chapter thirty nine
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SOMETIMES PHOEBE WAS GRATEFUL THAT ALAN HAD A JOB THAT REQUIRED HIS FULL ATTENTION. Ever since the other night, she hadn't been able to get away from him. They were constantly together, already discussing things for a wedding and trying to figure out a day to have it. It wasn't that she was regretting making this choice, it just all happened so fast. A little part of her never even expected him to agree. She sat on the couch, the television playing quietly in the background, scrolling through the photos on her cellphone. It was starting to get cooler as the seasons got closer to changing.
The only thing she hated was surprise guests. Three knocks on the door tore her attention away from one picture in particular. She leaned over the couch to see if the locks were turning, only to find it eerily silent. It seemed that it wasn't Alan on his way home. She got up off of the couch and wrapped the throw blanket around her to hide the fact she was completely pants less. She scuffled toward the door and unlocked it in record time. "Debs, if this is you again—" Her sentence was cut short when she spotted Ian and Lip, both bloodied. Their fight, she thought. Jesus.
"You guys look like shit." Ian grinned over at the girl. "Are you gonna let us in? I gotta lay down." His hand was pressed to his gut. Phoebe moved to the side to allow them to enter. "I'm guessing you two are friends again?" She closed the door after them and locked the door. The boys split apart, Ian crashing on the couch and Lip heading to the bathroom. "Maybe?" She followed after Ian and plopped down beside him. She grabbed his face and brought him closer to inspect the damage. "Who won?" He breathed out a chuckle. There was a bruise blossoming under his eye, and a cut on his forehead. It didn't look like it came from a fist.
"He cheated," the redhead admitted. "Hit me with a fucking rock." She rolled her eyes. Typical, she thoughts. "Stay right there. I'll get the first aid kit." Ian leaned back into the couch, legs sprawled out in front of him. She got up and headed for the bathroom. Lip was standing in front of the mirror, looking over his own wounds. He looked a bit more beat up than his younger brother. Once she reached him, she slapped him upside the back of his head. "Ow! What the fuck?" He turned to face the brunette with confusion flooding his blue eyes. "She said no guns, no knives, and no bricks," she hissed. "And yet you hit him in the head with a rock? Seriously?"
He rolled his eyes. He went to turn away and walk out, but she caught him by the arm and brought him back. She used both hands to force him to look at her. There was semi dried blood around his nostril and a bit of swelling around his cheek bone. "Anywhere else hurt?" She withdrew her hands and placed them at her hips. Lip shook his head with a sigh. The way his torso tensed from the exertion was enough evidence that he was in fact injured. Without hesitation, she yanked his shirt up and noticed the bruising around his ribs. "Damn," she breathed out, surprised by the darkness of the injuries. She gently pushed him to turn. The bruising continued to his back.
"Did you get kicked by a fucking horse?" Her tone was teasing, but the bruises worried her. He scoffed. "Funny how you're assessing our bruises when you've got some of your own." She ignored his cheeky remark and let his shirt fall back down. "There's frozen green beans in the freezer. Get those out and use it on your stomach. And sit beside your brother." He ruffled her hair suddenly, a crooked grin on his features. She quickly shoved his hand away with a mild groan. "Ah, fuck off. Do what your told." He hesitated in his spot. His eyes trailed over the trail of hickeys starting from under her ear to beneath her neckline. There were times where she would show up with a hickey or two, but this was excessive. It made him curious.
"You two have fun last night?" he asked, prodding a finger at her neckline. She flinched at the sudden intrusion. "The game is over," she snapped. "My sex life is none of your business now." The smile he wore faded slowly. He pulled back his hand and scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. "Yeah, shit. You're right," he sighed. "I'll go get those green beans, then." He didn't hesitate to leave the room and head for the kitchen. Once he was gone, she searched the cabinet for the first aid kit. She also took her tweezers and closed the cabinet. She found the boys sitting together soon after, watching the show she had playing before they had gotten there.
"Who wants to go first?" She held up the first aid kit and shook it. The boys glanced at one another before pointing at the other. She sighed at the two. "Okay, then. Pick a number between ten and thirty." Twenty two, she thought to herself. Lip and Ian both took enough time to guess a number. "Eighteen," Lip stated. "Seventeen," Ian concluded, glaring over at his brother. Lip elbowed the redhead in his gut, eliciting a groan from him. "Lip's first, then." She sat down beside him and propped herself up on her knees. She set the box in his lap and opened it. "That's not fair," he muttered under his breath.
She opened an alcohol wipe package and grabbed the pad with her tweezers. "Stay still," she told him before starting. She already knew what was to come. She'd helped with his injuries plenty of times before. She rested one hand behind his neck, holding the back of his head as she pressed the pad to his nose. He winced at how cold it was. She wiped away the dried blood before cleaning the area around it. "So, I actually did want to talk to you," she voiced as she tossed the dirty pad onto the first aid kit lid. She looked over his face once more, concluding that the extent of his injuries would easily heal on their own than with her help. It was mostly bruises and swelling than open wounds.
She switched places with Lip to get to work on Ian. "What, are you pregnant too?" Lip asked leaning back against the couch. She shook her head. "No. I.. proposed to Alan last night." She tore the next package with her teeth, avoiding the eyes that stared at her in surprise. "Isn't that the guy's job?" Lip asked. "Are you serious about this?" She shrugged her shoulders. She took the same position as she had with Lip, holding the back of his head to hold him still. "Does it really matter who does it? This isn't the eighteenth century." Lip scoffed. "I think that's great," Ian voiced, wincing at the sting at his temple. "You guys are good together."
"Don't you think you're rushing into this? You haven't even turned seventeen yet." She glanced back toward the curly haired boy with a frown. "Can't you be happy for me for once?" she asked. His eyes landed on hers. He didn't know how he felt about her taking that big step. He'd lose her forever once she became someone else's wife. "I didn't say anything about you and Karen getting back together." He frowned at the harshness of her tone. She was right, though. She accepted his news without argument. The right thing for him to do is the same. "Okay," he sighed. "Congrats. When is it?" She turned back to Ian and finished cleaning the cut on his forehead.
She took a bandaid and peeled back the paper. "I don't know. We've been talking about Christmas." Both Lip and Ian looked at her with wide eyes. It was August, Christmas was only four months away. "Are you going to get a dress?" Ian asked. The brunette scrunched up her nose. They two had been dead set on getting her a proper wedding dress. They had gone back and forth with keeping it the traditional white or a grey tone. She liked the idea of doing things differently, but was that right for a wedding day? "We've saved up a lot. And we both agreed to work more shifts to save more." Lip scoffed. "And school?" She smoothed the skin tone bandaid against the boy's temple with ease. "I'll still be going. I'll just work the weekends and nights on weekdays."
"What kind of dress are you thinking?" Ian was more interested in wedding details. The girl grinned over at the ginger boy before settling between the brothers. Her phone was on the arm of the couch and she snatched it quick. "I don't want the princess look. So, I was thinking about going for the mermaid style?" She unlocked her phone and navigated toward the photo album app. She had three options. One was a stark white with lace sleeves and a lace bodice. The neckline was a sweetheart one, and the back was cut out. Ian lowly whistled at the photo. The next was a smokey grey. It didn't have too much of a texture. The neckline plunged to the valley between her breasts. It was less form fitting than the others, and was more on the simple side.
"You're supposed to wear white," Lip commented, chin resting on her shoulder as he watched her swipe. "The white one looks best. It'll look good on you." She hummed in acknowledgment of their comments and stored them away for later. "I was leaning toward it, but it's probably going to be expensive." She felt her body relax into the couch as they scrolled through her wedding plans. It was strange. They hadn't expected they'd do this before they were twenty. And the fact that it was Phoebe first... it took them by surprise. Especially considering she's not marrying Lip.
"I know the spot is reserved for women, but... You wanna be my maid of honor?" She turned to Lip, catching the boy off guard. He stared at her for a moment. The duties of a maid of honor were important. He'd have to make sure everything was perfect when he could barely make sure things at home weren't on fire. But the hopeful glint in her eyes made it impossible to say no. A warm grin spread across his face as his head dropped into a nod. "Hell yeah," he replied. "I'll be the best looking one in a dress." — "Oh, God. I'm going to throw up," Ian groaned. Phoebe felt her heart speed up. Maybe this will work out. Maybe things are finally looking up.
—
"Alright, motherfuckers. It's the first day of school—" Her head tilted as the Gallagher's climbed down their front steps. One was missing, however. "Where's Lip?" she asked as they approached her. Ian looked to the brunette with a lift of his brows. "Dropped out," he answered. Her hands carded against her hips. "Are you kidding me? After he–" She cut herself off, not wanting to ruin the excitement for the day. Instead, she turned in the direction of their typical walk to school. "I have more important matter. One being a question for Debs." The red head wore that red top and blue shorts with her hair pushed back with a black headband. Her attention turned back to Phoebe with interest.
"How would you feel being a bridesmaid?" Phoebe asked. There was a silence within the group. Carl's backpack strap was wrapped around his neck. He looked toward Phoebe in confusion. "Who's getting married?" he asked. The brunette shrugged her shoulders. She couldn't fight off the smile on her face. "Are you and Alan getting married?" Debbie suddenly asked, her voice raising with excitement. It made things a lot easier when the most important people in her life liked the person she wanted to marry. She didn't answer right away, but Debbie had already guessed the answer. She grinned big, her cheeks growing red. She couldn't believe Phoebe wanted her to be a bridesmaid.
"If you say yes, maybe I'll make the dresses red." She wiggled her brows toward the younger girl. Debbie smiled. Red was always a nice color on all of them, including Phoebe. It would fit the season, as well. "Yes!" Debbie squealed. She grabbed a hold of the brunette and wrapped her arms tight around her. Phoebe felt so happy. She was marrying the most amazing man. She had a family that truly cared for her. Her life was no longer a routine of walking aimlessly. She had a plan. The next step was finding a venue. Where would they have it? Neither of them were religious and chose to forgo the church option, and they knew they couldn't have it at Alan's house. The only place she could think of... was the Alibi. Or even the park.
She didn't think Kev would say no if she asked to have the wedding at the Alibi Room. If anything, she figured he'd be excited and help decorate, maybe even rush them into having it sooner. Though she knew this, she also felt nervous. There was so much to plan. They had to find out who to invite, how many people could fit in the building, and even where to get the decorations. They'd have to figure out a way to keep Frank from embarrassing everyone, or keep away the crazies that drink at the Alibi Room. And what if she actually did invite her parents? She wouldn't want them to ruin the day just because she had her wedding in a bar.
"Hi, Phoebe." She jumped at the sudden voice popping up behind her. They all turned to see who was greeting the girl, only to find Dicky Peterson standing there. His hair had grown out and he had gotten rid of the glasses. "Fuck off," she spat as the kids finally went their own way to the elementary school building. She instinctively grabbed Ian's arm, turning away from the boy and pulling her friend forward. "Did you have a good summer?" His footsteps were quick behind them, following them despite the obvious discomfort of his presence. She ignored him, keeping close to Ian's side. "You're hair looks nice. I preferred it when it was long, though."
"I'm not changing the way I look to impress some misogynistic, gynophobic chauvinist with a small pecker." Dicky's face began to redden as he fell in step with the two. His eyes cut toward Ian, gauging for a reaction from the redhead, only to receive none. "Why are you being so hostile to me?" he suddenly asked. His hand thrusted forward to grab her arm, jerking her to a stop, in turn stopping Ian. The Gallagher boy was quick to rip the boy's hand from his friend. "Have you ever heard of consent, A-hole?" Dicky stared hard back at Ian. He didn't find the younger boy threatening. If anything, the confrontation excited him. His corners quirked up into a slight smirk as he stood up straighter.
"This doesn't concern you, kid." Phoebe let out a huff. She wasn't really in the mood for a pissing contest. "It's okay, Ian. I got it." She stepped between the two, urging the younger boy to stand down. He had a temper on him and she knew that if there was a scuffle, she wouldn't be able to step in. "Look, Dicky, you've got to stop following me around." She met his eyes with hesitation. He looked at her so confused, with eyes welling with emotion. "You won't talk to me," he muttered. She bit down on the inside of her cheek. Why would she? He tried to force himself on her when she verbally declined his advances. "Because I don't... I don't like you, Dicky. You disrespected me and continue to do so by stalking me."
"I don't stalk you!" he argued. She was close to walking away at that point. She turned toward Ian, who waited patiently for any sign of discomfort. He would gladly step in if needed. "Leave me alone, okay? Stop following me, stop showing up places. Just don't talk to me or I'll have to tell my boyfriend." His eyes seemed to change. With furrowed brows, he once again grabbed her before she could walk away. His grip was tight, bruising even. "Boyfriend?" he asked, voice wavering. "When the fuck did you get a boyfriend?" She attempted to yank her arm away, only to have his grip tighten around the flesh of her bicep.
"Let me go, Dicky, or I'll have to kick you in the nuts." He scoffed in disbelief. He couldn't fathom how the one girl he loved could date someone else. "Are you kidding me? I let you in my house. I fucked you. I even offered to take you to a stupid wedding." Phoebe gritted her teeth. "All I wanted was to treat you like a queen, but you're nothing but a whore." Without a second thought, she reeled back her arm and landed a solid punch to the boy's nose. She felt her knuckles pop under the pressure, just like they had the day she landed one on Joey Milkovich. Dicky pulled back in shock, crimson dripping from his nose and over his top lip. Ian was quick to move in and pull her away the moment his grip loosened from her arm.
That familiar rush flooded her veins. "You're a bitch, Dicky," she spat. Her head was swimming. "The only reason I slept with you was to get points in a game." Honesty can be truly exhilarating. Letting it all go and standing the repercussions. Though she never expected this. Her head snapped back, her balance faltering as a searing pain focused on the peak of her cheekbone. Ian's arms caught her before she could hit the pavement. A warm substance spilled over her skin. "What the fuck!" she yelled in surprise, unsure what had even transpired. In his hands was his house keys, red staining his fingers. Once she was safe on her feet, Ian dashed forward, tackling the boy at his waist.
That high dissipated away with every passing second. Her face throbbed against her touch. The sound of scraping shoes filled her ears along with her thudding heartbeat. She pulled her hand away and spotted the crimson staining her fingers. Did he cut her with his house key? She tried to blink away the tears involuntarily filling her eyes, but the pain on her left side made it difficult to open and close that eye. "Ian," she called out. The smell of her own blood was starting to flood her senses. Her stomach lurched. She swallowed down the bile threatening to rise from her throat. "Ian," she called again, her voice growing shaky.
People began to gather. She could hear the scrambled voices meshing together. She could feel eyes focused on her as a few girls approached her. "Phoebe?" She looked up to see Elisa Martin, the head cheerleader of their school's team. "Oh, my God. Are you okay? Can you see?" She could barely breathe with everything happening around her. What the fuck had she gotten herself into?
from rumi . . .
idk where this came from...
dicky was supposed to make more
cameos but i suddenly scraped that
for this and i'm honestly living for it.
can you guys believe how close we are
to finishing this book? it feels so surreal.
like there's only twelve chapters left... wild.
how did you guys like the chapter?
what's your favorite part?
im not sure i have a favorite part? i'm
really loving the ending.. maybe that's
the sadist in me. but something about
the realism in it... we know how
fragile men react to strong women.
don't forget to vote + comment!