Southside ~ Shameless

Chapter 12

Hollie was trying to figure out what to do about parents' night when she got a call from Nick while he was on break at work. She answered it and half the phone up to her ear.

"Hey, babe." She greeted.

"Hello, my love." He replied, "that was disgusting, I'm sorry."

Hollie chuckled, "How's your day? Better than mine?" She asked.

"It's okay, would be better if I could see you." He told her, "what's going on over there?"

Hollie sighed and ran a hand through her hair, "Carl's in trouble at school. Parents Nights tonight and they want Frank to show up, but he says he won't so I gotta go fix it before nobody shows and he gets bounced."

"Sounds fun."

"I'll see you later?" She asked.

"My place or yours?" He asked.

"Depends on whether Frank has gotten us all murdered by then." She chuckled.

"What the fuck's he done now?"

"I don't even know." She said.

"I gotta go, Love you bye."

"Love you bye."

She hung up the phone and pulled her coat on, she said goodbye to Kevin before making her way to the school.

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"I appreciate you seeing me," Hollie said as Carl's teacher, Develin, lead her to the desk.

"Your Carl's mother?" Develin asked.

"Ah, no, sister," Hollie told her.

"Legal guardian?" Develin asked, sounding annoyed.

Hollie shook her head, "formally no."

"Mr Munroe," Develin said to a man that was searching for something behind the desk.

"Where's that papier-mâché?" He asked.

Develin sighed, "Right here." She said as she gave Hollie a dirty look, "the kids have been making paper-mâché sculptures about what they live about themselves. This is Carl's." She pulled a sculpture out from beneath the desk. The sculpture was of faeces stuck to a green piece of paper with 'Carl Gallagher' written in the bottom corner.

"What is that?" Hollie asked.

"That is a paper-mâché pile of shit." Mr Munroe told her.

Hollie chuckled nervously, "wait. He has a very developed sense of humour." She defended her bother.

Develin stared at her unamused, "we're not laughing." She stated, "carls future is speaking to us through art. A dark future. Filled with what, even to the untrained eye, is a budding psychosis."

"I-"

"We need to speak to his father or his mother." Mr Munroe interrupted her.

"Well, they're out of town," Hollie said.

"It's important that—"

"I need a parent, not a sister." Mr Munroe interrupted by slamming his hand on the desk, "I've had what seems to be 15 of you goddamn Gallaghers at this school and I have never once met a parent. Not once. Who in the hell is raising this degenerate?" He snapped. "Come back tonight with a parent or a call will be placed to a place you don't want me to call."

Hollie nodded and walked away from them. On her way out she saw Debbie hanging around outside.

"Hey, Debs." She said as she approached her, "here don't break it." She gave Debbie her phone and said goodbye.