HARD TIMES ━ lip gallagher²

14 | you're strong; you're brave

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IT FELT LIKE AMARA was carrying cinder blocks on her feet. Even with the pair of sneakers she'd brought for a change of shoes so she wouldn't have to walk home in heels barely made much of a difference. The can of pepper spray in her hands seemed to weigh tons. She hated working night shifts, especially when Lip had different hours than her.

She was only a couple of feet away from the Gallagher's house when the sound of arguing echoed out from the backyard and into the front. Curiously, Amara made her way towards the sound of it, surprised to see that the bickering was coming from Frank and Fiona.

She stayed quiet as she leaned against the side of the house, crossing her arms over her chest. Not a second later, a shadow fell next to her, and she glanced to see Silvia. "Was watching Gemma and Amy, Kev just got back and I heard shouting. What's going on?"

"No idea," Amara replied honestly, turning back to the other two.

"She was a beautiful, crazy, fragile, wonderful woman!" Frank yelled.

"She deserted us!" Fiona spat.

"She loved us!"

"That was love?"

"Yes!" Frank asserted. "Yes, it is."

"Okay, then why did she leave?" Fiona demanded, stepping closer to him.

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

"If she loved us so much, why wasn't she here?"

"She tried!" Frank protested. "She always tried."

"She wasn't here!" Fiona shouted, and Frank snapped his jaw shut, reeling backwards. "She was never fucking here. She left!"

Amara glanced towards the stairs once she heard the door squeak open, the rest of the Gallagher's piled onto the deck not long after, all tightening their coats around themselves.

"I was nine!" Fiona carried on, voice breaking. "Nine and taking care of you. Taking care of all of us. I was in fourth grade dragging your ass, passed out, in from the yard so you wouldn't freeze to death. Staying up all night with Ian when he had chicken pox. I washed Carl's shitty diapers! I picked lice out of Liam's hair! And I was here when Debbie got her first period. Not Monica. Me. And never you; you were too fucking loaded.

"She was a junkie," Fiona sneered when her father said nothing. "And a drunk. She didn't love me. And she didn't love you. She didn't give a shit about anyone other than herself. I'm glad she's dead. At least now she can't fuck us over anymore."

Amara's throat felt thick, she had to swallow thrice before she felt like she could speak again. The only word she could form was: "Jesus."

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Monica's funeral was short and small; it reminded Amara of her own grandmother's, minus the lack of tears and the majority of the ceremony spent not trying to burst out laughing because she had been buried in her wedding dress.

Really the only thing that happened was Fiona managed to shock Amara when she choked up on her words during her speech, and when Frank stood up right when they were all about to leave for his fair share of words. Amara stared at him expectedly as he stumbled drunkenly in front of the coffin.

"Monica was the love of my life, and I knew that the first time I ever saw her. I was in college, going nowhere, bored. Summer internships with State Farm Insurance. Uh, junior year I was in the dorm, studying. Some buddies had a-an extra concert ticket. I never really liked Supertramp, but I went anyway, and...she jumped into the window of my car.