Being a Gallgher isn't easy, especially not for Ian's twin Alyssa Gallagher who lives on the southside with her many sibling and alcoholic father who drops in and out whenever he pleases.
Then there's the emotionless asshole who Alyssa just can't s...
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School started again and we were back to normal, sitting in the kitchen whilst Fiona made our lunches.
"Where's Grammy?" Debbie asked once she walked down the stairs. "Frank took her to Sheila's, she was having trouble breathing," Fiona told her. Her fault for making our basement a meth lab.
"The chemicals from the fire were aggravating her emphysema," I explained, widening my eyes at Debbie who sat next to me. "Will the chemicals give us emphysema?" she wondered. I shrugged, sipping my coffee, "Probably, but we won't know for 50 years."
We suddenly heard thudding. I looked over to the stairs and watched Carl with his football helmet on, slamming his head against the walls. I shook my head at my little brother. "Carl, the team gives you one helmet and if you break it, we can't afford to replace it," Fiona warned him.
"Don't matter, seasons over," Carl sighed taking a seat at the table. "What?" Fiona asked. Ian looked up from his textbook, "His coach got arrested for exposing himself at the park," he informed her.
"He was peeing behind the shed, couple of 7-year-old girls saw it," Debbie piped in. Carl groaned, "I don't get it, half the world has penises. Why do people get so upset about seeing them?" he asked puzzledly.
"Context," I stated. Carl tilted his head to look at me through his helmet, "What's that?" he wondered. "When, how, where and with who," I told him.
Carl looked to the breakfast bar, "Ian, you played, you could coach," Carl said excitedly. Ian stood up, "Uh, I can't. Busy after school, sorry bud." Ian picked up his bag and lunch, "You going to school early? Fiona frowned.
"Chemistry study group," Ian informed before walking out the backdoor. Carl looked back at me, "You can coach." I tilted my head, "I'll be working little dude," I pouted. "Fiona?"
"I know nothing about football," She told Carl with a shrug. "It's just boys crashing into one another, with pads and some...some rules," Debbie nodded.
"Ask Lip," Fiona suggested. Carl shook his helmet covered head, "He won't do it," Carl sighed. Fiona placed her hand on her hip, "Wake him, ask him. Can't hurt," she shrugged.
Carl raised his head, "LIP!" he yelled making us flinch. "I coulda done that!" Fiona scolded. I reached over and swatted his helmet, "Upstairs," I ordered.
///
So, I was supposed to be working. Stand behind the counter and help any customers that came in or stock up in an aisle that needed it.
But I was too occupied being bent over behind the freezers. Mickey standing behind me with a firm grip on my waist. I was pretty sure a few people had knocked on the shop door but it didn't stop Mickey from thrusting his hips back and forth.
