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ONCE SCHOOL had let out, Silvia was quick to find Debbie and Carl waiting for her by the back doors that led to the courtyard—if you could call it that. It was just patches of dead grass and one picnic table that nobody used. The paint chipped off it years ago, and anyone who sat on it was most likely to get a splinter.

Eagerly, she caught up to the two of them. She'd been dismissed from the office first, what ever Carl had done to get in trouble had been more severe than just talking back to a teacher.

Silvia thought the term talking back was bull. How else were conversations supposed to happen?

The three of them chatted as normal, Carl planned his revenge on his teacher, Debbie was talking about something for class president, and Silvia chimed in with what she'd drawn in her math book instead of paying attention.

"You're gonna be in a museum one day," Debbie told her.

"They're gonna put her in a museum? Gross." Carl muttered, and at the glare Silvia shot him, he darted away from her as if knowing her next move.

He probably did—Silvia smacked him a lot, but only because he said rude things so often.

"Her drawings," Debbie said, pointedly, examining her notebook as they walked. "Really good, Via."

Silvia grinned. "Thanks."

The walk home from school wasn't long, and halfway through, the high schoolers made an appearance from a different sidewalk. This happened every day—though the schools were a few blocks apart, Lip Amara and Ian always cut through backyards to get home faster, and probably to make sure the three of them made it back safely.

Today, however, there was an extra in their group. Amara and Ian walked slightly in front of Lip and another blonde girl, and from the scowl on her sister's face, Silvia could only assume it was Karen. Ian didn't look too pleased, either, but his attention seemed only focused on distracting Amara with jokes.

Silvia caught her eye, but Amara only shrugged. That was enough of an answer for her, and the group started to the open gate that led up to the Gallagher house—the Gilbert's almost looked abandoned next to it. Lights off, empty porch (due to her mother selling the furniture for meth, her sister assumed) and all of the curtains drawn. It was clear to both of the girls which house was truly home.

Steve, Fiona's new boyfriend, was waiting inside already. He grinned at them as they piled in. "Okay, I'm seeing some new faces in here. Who are these three?"

"Amara," Fiona pointed to her sister, who smiled in greeting with a little wave. Lip's gaze lingered on her face for a moment, and Silvia leaned forward to see if maybe she had something on it. "Lip's best friend since birth. I think they were born attached at the hip."

"Don't insult me," Amara replied dryly. Lip rolled his eyes.

"Silvia," Fiona pointed to her next. Silvia, unlike her sister, shrank back under the gaze of Steve. She wasn't typically shy, but he made her nervous for some reason. "Amara's little sister, basically Debbie's twin and Carl's delinquent best friend. They cause more trouble together than all of us combined."

Feeling smug, Silvia spared a glance in Carl's direction to already find him smirking proudly at her.

"And that's... Karen," Fiona's hand fell back to her side.

Ian stifled a laugh, and Amara coughed into her hand. Silvia caught Debbie's confused gaze, and she was sure the expression she wore was quite similar.

Veronica came from the bathroom a moment later, sauntering as always and giving Silvia a large smile that Silvia couldn't help but return. Amara had Fiona as a mother figure—but Silvia had always been closer with Veronica.

Steve was quick to take everyone's burger orders, and he didn't even seem phased that he'd be buying so much food, he even added some appetizers.

She was absolutely thrilled—on the rare occasion they even got take out—they never got appetizers. It was reserved for rich people, Amara always claimed, and Silvia never argued with her when it came to money.

"All right," Steve called from the kitchen after he and Fiona returned with the food. In the time they'd been away, Silvia and Debbie had huddled together on the floor to giggle about the slim jim they'd hidden under Carl's bed, and Amara fell onto the floor next to them. "Foods here. Extra ketchup?"

"That's mine," Debbie raised her hand into the air and Steve tossed her the burger that was wrapped in aluminum.

"Only pickles?" Steve called again, and this time Silvia's arm went up. She caught the burger easily, and tried not to flush at Steve's approving nod.

Carl's face scrunched from across the room, and Silvia scowled at him, just as Amara's disapproving tone sounded. "Gross. I can't believe you asked for just pickles."

Silvia wasn't offended. Amara was probably the most judgmental person she knew, it wasn't personal. Still, she stuck her tongue out and her sister returned the gesture as Steve moved to stand in front of her.

"I take it the plain one is yours?"

Grinning, Amara accepted the wrapped food from him. "You guessed correctly."

"She's picky," Lip chimed in as he fell onto the chair next to Karen, arm thrown around her "She doesn't even like mayonnaise."

The sight of them together made Silvia uneasy—though Karen seemed nice, seeing Lip's arm thrown around someone other than her sister was incredibly odd. She'd always assumed that was a best friend thing, but Karen and Lip were definitely more than that.

Silvia didn't get it at all.

"You don't like mayonnaise?" Steve echoed in disbelief.

"Yeah," Ian piped up too. "Or seafood. She's weird."

"Man, you are weird," Steve teased, and Amara crossed her arms defensively, though she was clearly fighting off a grin. "What's next, you don't like zucchini bread?"

"No," she answered simply. "I don't even like vegetables. And I'm feeling personally attacked right now fellas. I'm gonna have to ask you to be quiet or you'll all wake up with shaven eyebrows."

"Shaven eyebrows," Carl murmured, nodding his head. "Great idea."

Silvia's hands quickly found hers on her face, suddenly horrified Carl would take a prank too far and legit take her eyebrows from her face.

"Amara's never mentally grown out of toddler stage," Ian continued, and Silvia saw her sister roll her eyes.

"Make that physically, too," Lip commented. Amara raised a brow, as if challenging him to go on. Lip didn't back down. "Look how short she is."

"Who's this?" Veronica asked, taking her burger and nodding in the direction of Karen. Silvia blinked, then remembered she'd been in the bathroom for the introductions. She was clearly judging, Silvia could read her well enough. Though she was smiling, there was the slight narrow of her eyes. She was clearly wondering who this girl was and why Lip was so cozy with her. 

"This is Karen."

"Hey Karen," Veronica said casually. "Nice top. What size are you?"

"Shh!" Fiona insisted, smacking her friend's arm, and knocking her foot against the back of Amara's head in the process, earning herself a loud, dramatic grunt. "I'm sorry, you big baby."

Amara turned from where she sat on the floor to face Fiona on the couch behind her, deadly serious. "Just for that you're sharing your fries with me."

Fiona's annoyance was faux, and she handed Amara a handful of fries without a second thought. The room fell into silence as they ate their food, and watched the game on the television.

The only sound in the room was the front door opening. Surprised, every head turned to see who had walked in, only to discover it was Frank.

Frank was the Gallagher's father, and much like Silvia and Amara's own mother, he wasn't around very much, and when he was, he was drunk. It was sort of funny, she didn't have a dad, and they did. They didn't have a mom, but Silvia and Amara did.

His face was covered in blood that trickled from his nose down the front of his shirt. Amara tensed from next to her, and Silvia could assume why. Though their father hadn't been around in quite some time, he'd definitely left an effect on her older sister. She was sure seeing a drunk, seemingly aggressive man wasn't a good reminder, even if they were accustomed to it.

Steve, however, was not used to it, and his brows furrowed. "Hey, Frank. Are you okay?"

Frank didn't answer, which wasn't surprising. Silvia watched him shuffle further into the house, until Ian stood to stop him. "Is that my shirt?"

Frank nodded his head violently. He took one step toward his son, and the room grew thick with tension. "Yeah."

Ian's eyes widened. "Uh, I'm just asking."

Without warning, Frank lunged to head-butt Ian, sending the rest of them into action. "Guy at the bar said to pass it on."

"Jesus!" Fiona seethed.

Steve shoved Frank backward. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You're drunk Frank, drunk."

Amara was quick to tend to her best friend, and Debbie had hurriedly clambered to her feet to rush into the kitchen. Looking around hopelessly, Silvia followed after her, only to see her searching for a frying pan.

"This is drunk?" Frank asked from the next room.

"Don't do this to your kids," Steve went on, ignoring Fiona's protests.

Debbie gripped the handle of the frying pan, and promptly turned to chase Steve out of the house with it. Silvia had no choice but to follow, and the bickering in the living room continued.

Once Steve was out, Silvia caught sight of Amara attempting to stop the bleeding from Ian's nose, and Fiona was pinching the bridge of her own nose.

"You three," Veronica pointed to Silvia, then nodded at Carl and Debbie. "Upstairs. Now."

They didn't argue. Quickly, Silvia jogged up the steps, both of her best friends on her tail. They wavered by the steps for a moment in hopes to hear anything before they wounded up in the room Carl shared with his brothers.

They all sat in silence on the edge of his bed, Silvia's feet dangling off and mix-matched socks exposed.

Carl sniffed, and it was the only sound in the silent room. Then, he did it again. Silvia glared at him. "What are you, a dog?"

"You guys don't smell that?"

Debbie shrugged, but her feigned innocence didn't fool Silvia. She tried to disguise her laugh when she realized what it was—they'd hidden that slim jim days prior, how Carl hadn't discovered it yet was beyond her.

He rose to his feet, and scanned the room. "It smells horrible. How can you not smell it?"

Silvia shrugged. "It's just what we're used to around you."

Debbie giggled, and Carl lunged at her with a pillow—stopping immediately at the sight of something behind it. Slowly, he turned the item around to reveal a smooshed stick of slim jim pressed against the fabric.

Silvia blinked. "Huh."

"I don't remember putting it there," Debbie confessed. "It was definitely under the bed."

Carl eyed it, then shrugged.

In horror, Silvia watched him pluck it off the pillow and pop it into his mouth.

✲

authors note

silvia carl and debbie being the next generation (with a more dramatic ending) amara lip and ian is so personal to me actually