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Game Over
chapter forty four
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SHE STEPPED UP TO THE BROKEN WINDOW IN SURPRISE. It didn't look like anyone was there anymore. "Ian?" she called out, pushing open the door carefully. The bell didn't even jingle. "You here?" The door closed behind her as she entered the trashed store. "Jesus Christ. Someone got angry." She picked up a can curiously, turning it over in her hand. She placed it back onto the shelf, bending over to pick up more cans. "Ian Clayton Gallagher," she called out once more, setting the cans she picked up onto the shelf. "Phoebe Ji Lim." Her head snapped up to spot Ian coming out of the back room. He looked tired, like he hadn't been sleeping. She looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "You know who did this?" she asked, gesturing to the mess around her.
The ruckus outside was getting louder. Two men were now standing at the iron hanging from one window. "Linda got some guys to help out," Ian explained, pointing toward the duo. "But, uh, yeah." She stood there, hands now fitted against her hips. "And who is it? I've been told I have a nasty punch. I'm not afraid of a little conflict." Ian was quick to wave off her offer. "Trust me, you do not want to fuck with this person." She stared intently at the red haired boy. He only began to pick up where he had left off, where she had left off. "Are you in trouble?" she asked, a worried tilt to her voice. "Do you need money? I can spare some, you know. You're like my little brother."
"Fuck me. Hey." Both Ian and Phoebe turned to find Lip in the doorway, blue eyes fluttering around the room. Every time she laid eyes on that boy, her chest tightened. Emotions blossomed like flowers in her body, filling it with thorns that stabbed at her heart and lungs. He and Ian, however, seemed to be in good spirits with one another. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and tore her eyes away from the boy. She bent down opposite of Ian to help pick up the cans, their heads most likely too close together to prevent bumping. Neither minded, though. If they bumped heads, they would laugh it off with tender rubs to the injured area before getting right back to work. "Was it the skinheads again?" Lip asked with a hint of amusement.
Ian's lips pressed into a tight line. "Mandy's dad heard the news," he finally answered, shoulders tensing. There was a tightness to his voice. "Wait, he found out about Mickey?" Phoebe asked, her voice gentle. She looked at Ian in fear. "Nah. Mandy's pregnant," he responded. He looked irritated. She frowned. Lip stepped further into the room, seemingly shocked at the news. "Well, shit," he replied, leaning against the counter. Phoebe leaned back, placing the cans onto the shelf. She glanced over her shoulder to Lip, curious. "Well, congratulations," he jokingly said. He placed a cigarette between his teeth. "I didn't know you switched teams." Ian rolled his eyes. "Now there's two promised Gallagher babies," Phoebe added, getting a point in her direction.
"He told Linda that he's gonna put my feet in that meat slicer and work his way up," Ian snapped, pointing toward the object in question. His statement brought back the seriousness of the situation. Ian was in trouble. Lip shook his head. "Linda call the cops?" Ian scoffed. "Think she wants the place firebombed?" Phoebe shook her head as she stood up. Her legs had been hurting a lot recently since she had picked up more shifts at the store. "Shit," she cursed, "have you talked to her?" Ian shook his head in response. Phoebe wanted to hug him at that point. He looked scared. Terry Milkovich was after him. He was smart to be scared. "Did Mandy say whose it is?" Lip suddenly asked, surprising both Phoebe and Ian.
Ian paused his movements. His hands were in front of him, knuckles white. Phoebe sighed. "Won't call me back," he responded. She hesitantly placed a hand over the boy's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I can check to see if she's at school. I've got to head that way soon, anyway." Ian walked around the two to step behind the counter. He scraped a hand through his red hair. His voice was shaky as he spoke, "Yeah, Linda made sure to drill it in my head that if I leave, I won't have a job anymore." Phoebe came to stand beside Lip, ignoring the way he glanced toward her. He finally lit the cigarette that had been hanging between his teeth. "Shit, she won't be there, though," Ian suddenly remembered. "She usually goes into hiding until her dad cools off." Lip nodded his head as he took in the information.
"Spider hole in Tikrit?" he joked once more. Phoebe almost nudged him in the side. There was a time and place for jokes, but Lip never seemed to be able to tell when and where they were. "Relatives on South Justine," Ian corrected him. "I went by, but her aunt wouldn't let me in." Phoebe stuck her hands into her back pockets, fingers snagging the letter that rested there. Her brows suddenly shot up as she remembered her reasoning of being there. "Oh, my God," she spoke up, pulling out the paper. Ian and Lip turned toward her in confusion. She held up the white, college ruled paper that was folded. "What's that?" Lip asked, pointing to it with the end of his burning cigarette.
She tossed the paper onto the counter between them all, her tongue swiping over her bottom lip. "This..." She pointed at the paper with a mild laugh full of confusion. "That is a letter from my mom." Ian's eyes went wide, Lip's brow raising as he choked on the smoke filling his lungs. "She wrote you a letter?" Ian asked. His mouth curled into an amused smirk, his head immediately shaking in disbelief. "Apparently dear old dad got his newest side piece pregnant and they're having a boy. So he just... left." Her hands flew through the air until they slapped against her jean clad legs. "She said she wants to patch things up." Lip slapped at his chest to rid it of the burning sensation, his throat suddenly running dry. His watery eyes turned to Phoebe, bright and as blue as a clear sky. "You gonna forgive her?" he asked, brows pinched. She pulled down her sleeve just enough to cover her knuckles and wiped below his eye without a second thought.
Her shoulders lifted into a silent shrug as their eyes remained on one another. He placed the cigarette back between his lips, careful not to inhale too quickly. "I want to try, I think. She was honest with me last time. And she's not trying to be my mom." She ran a hand over her face. She still hadn't come to a conclusion on what exactly she wanted to do. "I just feel like I should give her a chance since Patrick's gone. He was always the vat of poison. If it wasn't for him, then maybe things could have been different." She sighed heavily through her nose. She knew that her mother didn't love her the way most mother's did, if even at all, but she had reached out to her. Millie was the one who extended that olive branch. "If your first thought is to talk it out, do it," Lip said, lips pursed as he thought hard. "You may not get another chance."
She turned to him, a small smile playing on her lips. He couldn't meet her eyes, instead staring down at the ember flame at the tip of his cigarette. Lazily, she slung her arm around his shoulders and nuzzled her nose into his neck. "Is this your way of saying you're sorry?" she asked sweetly. She could feel the shake of his shoulders as he laughed silently to himself. "Yeah, I guess so." She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before hugging him tight. He was taken aback at her swift movements, at the way she held him closer to her with so much strength. His hand came to rest at the small of her back. "I'm sorry, pop rocks," he muttered, his words muffled by her shoulder. She ran a hand through his curls, eyes filling with water. "Me too," she sighed.
They stood there like that for a moment, their heartbeats synchronizing. "Okay," he sighed. "You need to get to school." He patted her back gently before they shuffled away from one another. She pushed her hair back from her face. "Yeah," she sighed. "You're right. If I see Mandy or get ahold of her, I'll update you. Okay?" Ian nodded with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Pheebs." She bowed jokingly toward the boys before stepping over the mess and leaving the disaster behind.
—
She stared down at the unanswered text message, twisting a plastic fork between her fingers. She had last seen Ian sprinting away from the school after Terry showed up. It didn't take her long to distract him, but now she was being ignored by Mandy and Ian. She stabbed the plastic tongs into the lettuce and shoved it into her mouth. Just as she was about to lock her phone, there was a notification from an unsaved number. There was only one person she could think of that would have texted her and that was her mother. Her throat ran dry. She hovered over the notification before sliding it to the left and typing in her passcode.
Unknown Number: I'm surprised you texted. I am free tonight if you would like to come for dinner. Your boyfriend is welcome, as well.
She took another bite of her lunch, her teeth scraping against the plastic cutlery. She didn't want Alan there. There was no way she would take him there blindly, where everything could explode back in her face. She knew that if he witnessed the true terror and agony that was her family, she would never be able to look him in the eyes ever again. Her thumbs flew over the keyboard fast, her food now forgotten on the lunch table. She chewed mindlessly, unaware of how mushy it had turned until she swallowed it with a grimace.
Phoebe: I'll come by myself. But tonight is good.
There was so much more she wanted to say. She wanted to admit her own shock to her text. She wanted to admit that she wasn't sure if she had made the right choice at all. She locked her phone to ignore the swelling in her brain, the infestation of questions, possibilities, and unsettling anxieties. She went back to her salad, pushing around the cherry tomato on the plate. Without Ian or Mandy, she was all alone. It felt lonely, sitting with no one but herself, the silence drowning out the steady conversations people around her were having. Most people avoided her now, after the Dicky incident. It shocked everyone, scared everyone. There were times she would see him out of the corner of her eye, watching silently with a clenched jaw.
Once more, she felt vulnerable. She sighed heavily from her nose, brows pinching together. She typed in her passcode once more and clicked the photo album application. She scrolled through the pictures. There were so many of her and Mandy, or of her and Alan. Ian took a majority of them, she concluded based on the evidence he left with his finger slightly in front of the camera. There were pictures of Carl in his football uniform, pictures taken with Debbie in the bathroom as they brushed their teeth. She paused on one where Lip was in the background, tired eyes drooping, body enveloped in a big coat. There was a cigarette behind his ear, a gloved hand frozen in the action of running through his hair. She frowned to herself, using two fingers to zoom onto his figure. "Lip," she whispered to herself, his name rolling off of her tongue like a silent prayer.
She wished he was there. She wished that all of the shit that had been going on hadn't actually happened. If she suddenly woke up in his bed, almost a year younger, she wouldn't complain. Just as she swiped to the next photo, there was another text message.
Mandy: I'm sorry. Lip's the father.
Her face began to grow red as she stared down at the simple message. Her stomach that was once feeling light filled with heavy lead. "What... the fuck," she swore aloud, ignoring the heads that turned her way. She locked her phone and pocketed it in one swift motion. I'm going to kill him, she thought. Poor Ian was scared for his life and Lip was the reason behind it. He had sex with Mandy. She struggled to wrap her brain around that one fact. When did they ever have a chance to hook up? How long has this been going on? Why did Mandy tell her? She grabbed her lunch tray and stormed toward the double doors, dumping her trash before letting the tray hit the top of the bin where the other discarded ones stayed.
Her boots pounded against the linoleum floors. Her heart matched its rhythm with thundering blows. She shouldn't care. She knew that she had no right to get angry over this. He said he loved you, her mind whispered in a deadly hiss. The backs of her eyes began to sting at the memory. She almost paused her steps. She almost stopped completely, deciding on turning back around and going straight for her locker. This wasn't her concern. She should finish the school day, go home, change, and go eat dinner at Millie's. There was no reason for her to storm to the Ritz and give Lip a piece of her mind.
Mandy: Please don't be mad. It won't happen again.
She felt for her phone after the second buzz and stared down at the message. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip ferociously. What could she say to that? It wasn't any of her business. It's not your business. You have no right to get mad. You're getting married. You're getting married. She almost threw her phone at that point, her frustration building up inside of her at a rapid pace. Why do I have to feel this way?, she asked herself, clenching her phone between strong fingers. Why do I still care about him so much? She took slow breaths, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. Her eyes screwed shut until there were spurts of color behind them like exploding fireworks. Once she felt calm enough, she opened her phone and texted Mandy back.
Phoebe: I'm not mad. He isn't mine.
from rumi . . .
the chapters are getting shorter &
shorter oh noooo
luckily i've decided to add some
chapters!!! i haven't been able to
fulfill my entire plan so we are
getting more chapters this act.
instead of the usual twenty four,
we are getting twenty six! yay!
how did you guys like the chapter?
what's your favorite part?
i didn't like this chapter 🤧 i did like
that phoebe & lip had made up tho. i hate
when they fight. and they do it so much this
act ew.
don't forget to vote + comment!