One-Hundred

Part One

Lip 

   Lip could handle any putrid draft placed in front of him. Lip could handle fists to the jaw, nose, and eyes. Lip could handle advanced calculus with a cheap pawn-shop calculator, and he could definitely handle any broad brave enough to undress him. Lip didn't really understand the concept of "no" or "impossible." Lip has fought alongside and against his family for the sash that reads "Fuck with Me, I Dare You." Lip could handle just about any circumstance or situation he happened to come across.

Lip couldn't handle Danni. He couldn't handle the mess of brown curls that cascaded down her back, the tips with the slight residual of a distant red coloring that she applied in her best friend's bathroom after too much wine. He couldn't handle her brain, how she could keep up in any class and with any scholar. He couldn't handle how she'd rather drown her intelligence in lagers and wines from the corner liquor store. He couldn't handle her feisty retaliation to disrespect and fraudulent friendship. He couldn't handle himself, or how she managed to be just like him without any help. Danni drove him wild, and he couldn't handle not being around her.

Danni has a simple way of drawing people in. She lets very few people get close to her and manages to lose all of them in a matter of weeks; sometimes people have different journeys to embark on. Still, she draws countless flocks of people to her flame. She fights when she needs to fight, she steps back when she needs to step back, and she definitely is built like a shit-brick house. He once watched her and Fiona whoop the shit out of each other; afterwards, she helped Fiona to her feet and shook her hand. Fiona has been like a pit bull by her side ever since.

Lip loves Danni. Not like he loves Fiona, or Carl, or Ian, or anyone else besides Frank in the family, but like being around her makes him see so much clearer than he thought possible. He sees solutions to financial disarray and blueprints to a nursery. He sees albeit a future with her. But right now, he's slumped in front of Kev and Vee, dubiously turning a sobriety token between his fingers. 3 months sober.

"Don't do it, Lip." Vee warns, buffing a glass as Kev shakes his head.

"Do you love her, man?" Kevin asked. He knew the answer to that. Everyone did.

Everyone watched Lip jump through hoops. That has a bit of a negative connotation, but Danni held up the right hoops. Get on track with school. Attend AA meetings religiously. Check on his family. Steer away from violence if at all possible. Wholesome things—necessary things. The entire gang of Gallaghers loves her.

"Do me a favor, Kev, and don't ask any stupid fucking questions to a man in peril." Lip mumbled, flipping the sobriety token once more before returning it safely to the pocket on his tattered shirt. Vee patted his hand gently and Kev just sighed, not knowing how to go about his brother's distraught thoughts.

"What happened?" Fiona bursts through the pub doors, frantic and glistening from the heat of the city with a heat advisory out. It was downright hellish today.

Lip sighs and glances at the ceiling, towards God, before turning to face Fiona.

"Don't tell me you did something just outright fucking stupid, Lip. She's really upset."

"I know she's really upset. I don't know how to fix it. I've tried and tried and she has me blocked out again and I cannot fucking break her walls down again. She does this like every 2 months."

"She has bipolar disorder, jackass! We all lose our shit at some point, sometimes multiple times. Ian has been batshit for 2 weeks now." Fiona pointed out.