HARD TIMES ━ lip gallagher²

02 | mars bars

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"DO YOU BELIEVE A woman has a right to her own body?" Debbie asked, coming into the Gilbert household, shutting the door loudly from behind her, and Amara looked up with a raised brow from her paperwork. Debbie hadn't been in a very talkative mood to anyone other than her boyfriend in the most recent months, she was surprised, being so honored to be addressed.

"Obviously."

"Good," Debbie nodded her head. "So what I'm hearing is you're about the only person around here who isn't going to try to talk me into getting an abortion and killing my baby."

Amara rolled her eyes and stood to place her empty plate into the sink. "You're fifteen, you can't have a baby."

Debbie scoffed and crossed her arms as Amara opened the refrigerator door to grab something to drink. "God, you're just like Fiona. Why is it such a big deal about my age? I'm in my prime childbearing years. Why would having a baby be such a bad thing?"

Amara downed her glass before turning to her. "Because you can't have a kid while you're still a kid. That's, like, asking a toddler to babysit another toddler. Like, a six year old watching a two year old. It doesn't work."

She had that annoyed teenager tone now. "Why not?"

Amara returned the attitude with ease—if Debbie wanted to out-bitch her, she was definitely going to have to try harder. "Because it doesn't? Why do you want a baby, anyway? Do you think pushing that thing out of you and ripping your vagina while doing so is a good way to prove that you can't be controlled? There's lots of other ways to rebel you know. Try selling drugs like your brother."

"Whatever," Debbie started towards the door. "You're not going to change my mind. But I need your help changing Fiona's."

Amara titled her head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Debbie rolled her eyes. "I mean, I need outside help so I can convince Fiona to keep hers. Come over tonight around dinner."

And Debbie was out the door just as things started to slip into place in Amara's mind. Fiona was pregnant?!

"Jesus Christ," she muttered to herself, dragging a hand down her face. "Who next?"

☆

"Marsss Barsss," Lip slurred through the other end of the line, and Amara glanced over from where she put her phone on speaker, heart racing in her chest. She couldn't remember the last time she'd even heard his voice.

"Lip? Are you drunk?"

He chuckled. "I like that. Mars Bars. Hey, I'm gonna start calling you that now."

"You better not."

"I'm sorrrryy," he told her, still stumbling over his words. "I'm sorry. Really sorryyyy. Marssss please forgive me. I should've done it bettterrr. Could've handled it bettterr."

She tensed. "And of course you can only tell me this when you're drunk."

"I don't think I-" He hiccuped loudly. "Fuck, what was I saying? Oh, anyway, you should come see this professor I've been fucking. I think you'd really like her. Reminds me of you. Smart, beautiful. Always knows what she wants."

"Yeah, great idea, invite your ex to see the new girl you've been sleeping with. Thanks Lip."

"Fuccck, I messed up again didn't I-"

"Lip," Ian's voice called from the background, sounding only slightly more sober than his brother. "Give me the phone, I'm the one who wanted to talk to her."

"Ian's being a dicccck," Lip stated. "Told him he could crash here for the night but not forever. And now he's acting like a petty princess with his panties in a twist." He cackled. "I'm so good with nicknames."

"Give me it!" Ian demanded, and she could hear the wind swish through the speakers as, from what she could assume, the boys wrestled for the device until the bickering dialed down and a door slammed. "Sorry 'bout that."

Amara laid her head on her arm. "Everything okay?"

"No," he sounded close to tears and she straightened in her seat. "No. It's not okay. Fiona's on my ass 24/7 about my pills and at work and Lip got me this fucking job but guess what I have to do all day? Wear a uniform that smells like actual ass and pick up everyone else's trash. And Lip won't let me stay. I've always felt like I didn't belong anywhere but I felt closest to belonging with Lip. But not anymore. He's so different Mara. And I miss you and-"

"I'm sorrrryy," Lip yelled in the background. "Maarrsss."

"Please come and get me," Ian said into the phone "Please."

"I'm sorry. So sorry."

"Um," she swallowed, and looked to the clock hopelessly. It was nearly midnight, she wouldn't get back with Ian until around one. "Okay. I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Okay."

Amara was not surprised to see tossed red cups and vomit all over the floor that Lip's dorm was stationed on. Obviously there had been a party, otherwise she doubted Ian would've called her if he wasn't so wasted. There were a few passed out students lying in the hall, but she mindlessly stepped over them and hesitated before knocking on the door.

It was Lip who opened it—which was exactly what she didn't want to happen. His eyebrows raised slightly in surprise as if he'd forgotten they just spoke on the phone forty minutes ago. He ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Amara?"

Hearing her full name come from his mouth felt like a punch in the gut, but she only peered around his shoulder. "Ian here?"

"Uh," he glanced back, and moved out of her way. "Yeah, he's over there."

She couldn't tell if it was disappointment that flickered in his gaze or relief. Either way, she brushed past him and walked straight over to the redhead who was sat on the floor, staring at the wall. Amara gently crouched in front of him and laid a hand on his jaw to turn his face to her. "Hey. You called me, remember? Still want to leave?"

Ian nodded weakly, and she stood, pulling him along with her as he leaned to grab his jacket. "What- where are you taking him? I told him he can crash here for tonight."

"'S fine Lip," Ian said, shaking his head and walking out the door.

Amara stared at Lip wordlessly, his blonde hair had been ruffled around and it was sticking up so much that it physically pained her not to reach out and fix it. She kept her hands firmly at her side, even though she craved to touch him. She inhaled quietly once his eyes darted towards her lips, and turned away.

"You look good," he offered when she reached the door. "I like your hair. It's a good length for you."

Amara glanced to him over her shoulder, her hand still on the handle. If he said anything else she would cave and rush right over to him, even if he pushed her away again and gave some lame ass excuse that left her embarrassed. Maybe Amara wasn't addicted to a drug, but she was definitely addicted to something. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her right now.

But she was stronger than that. She knew she was. So instead, she just nodded. "Thanks." And the door shut softly behind her.

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