HARD TIMES ━ lip gallagher²

03 | the fourth of july

☆

"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S the fourth already," Amara mused, shaking her head as her and Logan stepped out of their shared dorm to go down for breakfast. "You know, to be honest, I really thought this summer was going to drag because I'd be at school."

"It's flying by, isn't it?" Logan quipped, and then shrugged. "Mom is trying to get me to go to University of Maine."

"Maine?" Amara repeated, raising her brows. "Why Maine? You already have a head-start if you go here, why not stay?"

"Wants me to branch out. We've got some family up there, anyway. Dad says he thinks it's because people will believe I got off easy just because they teach here," she scoffed. "As if I didn't work my ass off for months trying to prove I was good enough."

Amara felt a tad bit guilty—she didn't work for anything to get the internship for the summer. For once, it had been handed to her. But maybe that was what she deserved after years of fighting for the bare minimum. "So, you gonna go?"

"Thinking about it, actually," Logan admitted. "I've lived in New York my entire life, so it'd be a little bittersweet, but it might be refreshing to get out. Get away from the lovely pollution." She snorted at that, and Logan offered a grin. "What about you? After your internship ends, you gonna stick around?"

"Don't think I could even if I wanted to," Amara replied. "One, I'm poor, remember?" She smirked and knocked Logan's shoulder when the dark skinned girl rolled her eyes. "And two, well, I'm kind of homesick."

"Of Chicago?"

"Well, not the city itself. I mean I just miss everyone. Texting and calling just isn't the same."

"Yeah," Logan agreed, her grin widening. "And you can't go to pound town on your man anytime you'd like."

Amara laughed loudly. "I feel like there should be a NSFW label on you somewhere."

Logan waved her off, snickering. "That's not even thoughts that come to my mind. But if you'd like, I could share them with you."

"Oh, no," Amara responded very quickly, pushing open the door while walking backwards. "I'll definitely have to pass on that."

"Hey," a voice said from behind, and Amara turned her head to follow it, allowing the door to slide shut as Logan stepped next to her. It was Payton—stood with a short boy with an untrimmed beard and a sweater vest, his arm wrapped around her. Amara valued fashion, but wearing long sleeves in the middle of summer was psycho energy, and so were the shoes he had on. "George invited us to his Fourth of July party this afternoon."

"Bring your own beer," George said, scrolling through his phone, and he offered nothing else. "Oh, I gotta go, babe. Boys want to see me flip off the roof and into the pool again before the party starts. I'll save you a plate."

"That sounds like a good way to get brain damage," Amara mumbled to Logan, but the other girl was staring at the sidewalk.

Payton waited until George was out of earshot before speaking again. "Isn't he just the best?"

"Well, he's definitely something," Logan stated, looking back up. "Will there be food?"

Payton rolled her eyes, a smile growing on her face. "Well obviously. It's a barbecue, genius."

"America's ass served on a paper plate."

"Didn't know Steve Rogers would be showing up to the party."

Three laughs echoed from around them, bouncing off the surrounding buildings, and Amara straightened once they had finished chuckling. "Wow, I think I just peed a little."