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Its been a week since I talked to Micky. Ive had alot of time to think about what he said and I've decided that, no, I am not in love with carl.

Love is a concept created by the government. They put people together. For example kev and v. Ian and micky. But sometimes theres fuckups. Fiona and- everyone, lip and everyone, me and- fuck. Everyone.

Fuck the government.

Love is a dumb fucking thing.

"What are you thinking about" tommy asked

"Fuck off"

"Kev you really need to get her"

"Fuck you gonna do. You spend your days sitting at a bar and commenting on our problems. Tell us about yours Tommy. You have a son who doesn't speak to you and your ex wife tells him you're shit cause you are."

"Hey"

"Reading you like a book huh"

"You're dyslexic. My son loves me and i never got married"

"Why are you trying to make tommy feel bad"

"Cause dad, happiness is for motherfuckers"

"Im happy"

"Motherfucker, ironic cause youre fucking my mother"

"Youre moms also happy"

"she masturbates, also a mother fucker"

"I dont fuck your mom" tommy said

"Youre not happy. Once again. Sitting at a bar commenting on everyone elses lives" i told him

"Whats gotten into you? You've been so off the past few weeks" Kevin told me

"According to who? You?"  I asked kevin the leaned on the counter "pa i'm sorry but the perfect little girl you adopted ain't so perfect. If thats too much for you send me back"

"What no no ones sending you back. You should know i of all people wouldn't do that to you"

"Welp everyone has their breaking point"  i told him. "Gonna head out"

"Go straight home" Kevin told me

"Maybe" I shrugged and left

No. Home is not the place. Anywhere else the place. Patsy's. The place to be.

I walked in and saw fiona running around.

"You good fi"

"No were short several hands"

"Well put me in coach"

"Really?"

"Fi ive watched all five of your siblings home sick with the flu. I was 11" I told her "15s legal labor . Anyways come on gimme an apron"

"Thanks kid"

I was working for at least four hours when i got to a table with two older boys. My favorite.

Hard times// carl Gallagher Kde žijí příběhy. Začni objevovat