HARD TIMES ━ lip gallagher²

02 | no idea

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"PLEASE DON'T DROP A piece of cement on your foot," Amara said, switching her phone to her other ear as she walked through campus to her first class of the day. The hot New York air blew her hair off her shoulder and it slid onto her back, and she quickened her pace. It was nothing like those movies or shows, she had realized that early on, about her second day. It was humid as fuck and she wanted to get to class so she could sit in front of the air conditioning.

Lip just called to tell her about the construction job one of the guys at the bar had offered to him for summer, so he could make some money. He sounded excited when he talked about it, but Amara had this horrid vision of him losing a leg, or something of the sorts, and couldn't help but worry. "I will make no promises," he replied. "But I don't think it'll be that bad. I can handle it."

"Uh-huh, said everyone ever before they got hurt."

"I'll be fine."

"I'll come to your funeral."

"You're not funny."

She smirked and turned a corner. "How are things going down there, anyway?"

"They're going," Lip answered, and she could guess that he was shrugging. "Still trying to get Ian to go to the doctors just incase. He won't. And uh, Fiona's doing good at her job. Think she has a crush on her boss, though."

Amara snorted. "Again?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Uh, Debbie took Carl and Liam to the public pool today. Don't know why they just won't use ours."

"The pools fixed?"

"Oh, yeah. Fixed it two days ago, I think. Fiona's boss helped."

"You like him?" Amara asked, coming to a stop right outside her class.

"He's alright. Not like, Dwayne Johnson or anything."

Amara pulled a face and readjusted her bag. "See, he's too muscular for me."

"What? Prefer dad bods?"

"Prefer my boyfriend's," she corrected.

"Cool, I prefer yours too."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know? Well, let me tell you how much I'd prefer having you on-"

"Hey, I gotta go," she interrupted, feeling her cheeks heat up. "Call me when you get back from work. Wanna know if you really handled it like you said."

"Fine, I won't dirty talk you while you're about to go into class. But I will tell you right now that I'm going to be thinking about you inappropriately all day."

"Shut up."

She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Later."

☆

"Well then I told him that it's literally impossible to fit a razor in that small crevice," Payton explained, failing to notice how Amara was lagging behind, panting heavily. "And he called me unhygienic. Can you believe that? Americans are so weird."

"If you think that's weird, you should hear what we put on hotdogs," Amara replied, waving her hand to signal for them to slow down as she bent over, completely out of breath. "It's way too fucking hot for this."

Payton's ponytail swung around as she turned to wait, placing her hands on her hips. "It's a little hot," she agreed, wiping her brow. "But mostly, you're out of shape, mate."

Amara looked up from the sidewalk to glare at her as Logan bursted out laughing from the opposite side of the other brunette, her hair also pulled up into a tight bun. "She had leftover pizza from last night for breakfast this morning."

"Uh-huh, and what did you have again?"

Logan blinked innocently. "Well eggs, of course."

"That's an odd way of pronouncing Cheese-itz."

Payton shook her head. "You two eat so unhealthily."

"I think...I'm about...to pass out...from heat exhaustion."

"Okay, drama queen," Logan rolled her eyes. "Let's get back to the dorm room then."

Amara grinned and straightened, walking between the both of them as she drank from her water. "So what should I do about that?" Payton asked as they neared the cafeteria.

"About what?" Amara questioned in response, screwing the cap back onto the bottle.

"About George," she answered. "I mean, it's only been like a week, but I really liked him. We hit it off, but now he's being a prat."

"You're sure he's not just joking?" Amara wondered, noting how Logan had pointedly averted her gaze to the field facing away from them.

"Definitely not," Payton said, sighing. "I'm usually good with that kind of thing. Logan, what do you think?"

Logan spared a brief glance over Amara's head to look at Payton. "What do I think?"

"Yeah. About George and his weird arse hair fetish. I mean, that's not normal around here, is it? Because if so, we're definitely going to have to have a talk."

"It's definitely not normal," Amara shrugged. "That's why I thought he was joking."

"Well, he said some other things... About my uh, tits."

"Gross."

"So..." Payton was staring at Logan who was looking straight ahead. "What do you think?"

"I think he's a dick and you deserve better."

Payton's brows raised in surprise as Amara pulled out her phone to reply to Fiona's update on Silvia text. They'd made an agreement that the eldest Gallagher would give a daily text on how her sister was doing since Gloria had no idea how to work a cellphone. "What? He's- He's been fine all of the other times. He's sweet."

"He stuck his hand up your dress last Saturday at lunch."

Payton scowled. "No he didn't. I told you already that was a misunderstanding."

"Whatever," Logan's lips were pulled into a frown, and she chucked her empty bottle into the closest trash can. "I need another drink. Meet you back at the dorm."

The two remaining girls stopped and watched as she stalked off towards the building, and Payton turned to Amara. "What the hell was that about?"

Amara didn't move her gaze away from Logan's retreating figure. "No idea," she lied.

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