GAME OVER ━━ Lip Gallagher

CHAPTER SEVEN

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Game Over
chapter seven

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                    SOMETIMES SHE WONDERED WHERE TO DRAW THE LINE WHEN IT CAME TO MONEY. There were small jobs she would do, like tutoring and sometimes babysitting. She also helped bag groceries on the weekends, though it was more of an under the table thing since her mom's friend owned the store. Tutoring seemed to bring the real money in. Since their school is in the middle of crimesville, there's always some sucker kid looking to pass and willing to pay their whole allowance just so their parents don't kill them, or so they'll stay on a sports team. Either way, Phoebe enjoyed tutoring. She didn't mind how slow progress could go. She didn't mind sitting in one place forever or reading the same thing over and over again until the client finally understood it. She just liked to feel helpful, and needed. Perhaps that was her major flaw.

          She stood amidst the chaos of Dicky Peterson's bedroom. His clothes were all over the floor despite a hamper sitting right outside his closet door. Magazine snippets were taped to a single wall along with pictures he had taken around Chicago. Some photos had people in them, like random people on the street or the homeless community. They were actually very well shot, though it did seem a little weird. Dicky raced around his room to make space for them to study, deciding that it would be better with them away from his hovering mother. She didn't mind either way, though she hadn't ever tutored someone this private before. She tended to prefer public places, but she needed the money.

          "I'm sorry," Dicky sighed. He held a pile of clothes under one arm and a torn up magazine in his other hand. "I forgot what today was. I was going to clean—" She forced a laugh and shook her hands before her. "It's no big deal," she tried to reassure him. After finally tossing the clothes into his hamper and dumping the magazine onto his night stand, he brushed off any loose particle on his comforter. Small fragments of what appeared to be chips flung to his carpeted floor. She had to fight the urge to grimace, though she also had the habit of snacking in bed, especially during the night. "Here." He motioned toward the bed, expecting her to hop onto it and get to work. However, she only looked to him in confusion.

          It seemed to take him a moment to understand her confusion. Realization dawned on his features. "Oh, no– I was trying to make a pass at you. I just don't have, I thought it would be more comfortable," he struggled to explain his notion. "We can sit on the floor, its just dirty and you're wearing that cute... cute skirt." She glanced down at her fishnet clad legs exposed from her mid thigh down. She wiggled her toes within her sneakers. "That's fine," she sighed. She kicked off her shoes and sat down at the edge of his bed. He followed shortly after, tossing his backpack near his pillows. They opened their literature textbooks and faced one another.

          "I'm sorry this is... awkward," Dicky sighed. He ran a hand over his buzzed hair, unable to meet Phoebe's eyes. She had been in situations like this where the people she tutored felt intimidated. She was intimidating, or she thought she was at least. Plus she was incredibly smart and she knew that some of the people she tutored felt inferior despite her trying to prove they weren't. "Seriously," she began, tucking her dark hair behind her ear, "it doesn't matter. You can chill out, okay?" His shoulders fell and, finally, he looked up to Phoebe with a small, shy smile. "I've never had a girl in my room before. Or, you know, in my house. So my mom tends to hover."