During the following weekend, Frank inexplicably disappeared, all the way to friggin Canada of all places. Apparently, Steve had whisked him away, hoping to rid Fiona of their perpetual 'problem'. Fiona was furious at Steve, but in Addy's honest opinion, leaving Frank stranded in Canada seemed like a brilliant idea. In her book, Steve earned some serious brownie points. Fiona was so pissed at Steve that she made him and Kevin go and get him. But alas, c'est la vie—Frank always found his way back, no matter how far he roamed. Addy suspected he was attempting to schmooze his way into Sheila Jackson's house (now that her husband moved out) where he was, 'wanted'. The man was like a bad penny, always turning up, no matter how much you wished he'd stay lost.
Monday Morning: 6:30 am
Addy resisted the morning's arrival, refusing to relinquish the warmth of her bed. She curled her bare limbs together, snuggling deeper into the cocoon of her blankets, her eyes clamped shut in pursuit of just five more minutes of rest. A relentless headache had plagued her night, leaving her in a fog of exhaustion. The chill in the room made any thought of productivity seem like a distant dream. Just as she teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, a piercing wail sliced through the air, causing her to bury her head into her pillow and emit a groan of protest.
From beneath her bunk, Debbie's voice mumbled, disturbed by the same disturbance that had awoken them, Liam. "It's your turn," she complained.
Addy responded with another groan, her words replaced by incoherent sounds. Yet, no one made a move to tend to the crying Liam, whose wails grew louder by the moment.
"I was up with him at 2 in the morning," Debbie whined further, her own exhaustion evident in her voice.
Desperate for a few more moments of peace, Addy considered pretending to still be asleep, hoping that Debbie would take the initiative. It was an uncharacteristic act for both of them, but in their sleep-deprived state, neither noticed the other's struggle.
Debbie's forceful kick to the top bunk jolted Addy awake.
"Fuck, Debbie! Alright, I'm up!" Addy extricated herself from the cocoon of blankets, her irritation palpable. As she emerged, she couldn't help but notice an unusual chill permeating the house, sending shivers down her spine.
With deliberate slowness, she descended from the top bunk, her glare fixated on her sister's slumped form. The urge to yank the blankets away from Debbie tugged at her, but the urgency of Liam's relentless screams took precedence for the moment.
"Shh, it's okay," Addy whispered soothingly to her youngest brother, Liam, as she moved to pick him up. Instantly, she detected the issue – a telltale odor that made her grimace in response. It was clear he needed a diaper change. She sneezed involuntarily as she prepared to address the situation, wondering why it was so cold in the house.
After successfully changing Liam's diaper, she bundled him up in extra blankets, and soon he fell back asleep. Addy rubbed her arms, realizing that wearing just a tank top and short pajama shorts was not the wisest choice. Shivering, she searched through a pile of laundry on the floor and found a striped grey long-sleeved shirt that had likely belonged to Lip. She quickly pulled it on before making her way downstairs. She was up now anyway.
She sneezed again on her way down the stairs, the cold air seeming to cling to her like a persistent ghost. The house was still quiet, everyone, probably, wrapped up in their beds. The only sound was some faint rummaging she heard emanating from Fiona's room. Addy decided that this morning she needed to kickstart her day with a strong cup of coffee; it was the only thing that could jolt her into any semblance of wakefulness. Maybe some freezer waffles for breakfast, she thought, contemplating the easiest and quickest option available. Her energy levels were disappointingly low, barely enough to handle the simple task of putting a round pastry in the toaster.
Fiona was the first to make it downstairs, her steps purposeful as she headed straight to the laundry room. Addy had the coffee brewing by then, preparing two cups – one black and steaming, placed on the island for Fi, and the other transformed into a sugary concoction that barely resembled coffee anymore. While the waffles toasted in the background, Addy leaned her elbows on the counter, cradling her coffee mug with both hands. Her long hair cascaded in front of her face, a curtain shielding her from the world as she silently willed the persistent headache to fade away. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen, mingling with the scent of anticipation and the quiet determination to face the day, despite feeling far from ready to do so.
The waffles were like a signal for her siblings to converge downstairs. They all gravitated toward the breakfast, hungry and sleepy-eyed. Meanwhile, Addy returned to her original position, leaning on the counter, mug in hand. Today, she would hear feedback on her art project from her teacher, she was nervous about it like really nervous. She was proud of her work, it turned out really good but she actually liked her art teacher, Miss Caufield, so the opinion meant a little something to her. She was also psyching herself up to show her family. Though she's pretty sure could paint stick figures and they'd be supportive because they knew how important it was to her.
"Earth to Addy..." Ian waved a hand in front of her face, "Earth to Addison."
Addy scrunched her nose in annoyance. "Don't call me that," she said, snapping out of her momentary trance. She blinked, readjusting her focus to the room around her taking a sip of coffee.
"What?" she asked aggressively. Why was he staring at her weirdly?
"You're not dressed," Ian simply stated.
"So?!" Ugh, why did she feel stressed out... It was the lack of sleep or the rude awakening... The headache was making her feel grumpy.
"Are you on your period?" Carl piped up from the couch in the living room, syrup all over his face.
"Ew, no, Carl."
"What, you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?" Lip came in, putting his plate in the sink and then reaching over for Addy's coffee.
"Why so many questions this morning?" Addy groaned, "Hey, that's my coffee!"
"You're just usually ready to go in the morning," Ian said, taking her coffee from Lip before he had a sip and handing it back to her, "It's just odd."
She shrugged, then sneezed into her cup and groaned as pain shot through her left temple, shivering involuntarily. When Fiona went to pull the laundry out, her concerned gaze caught Addy's attention.
"You're not sick, are you?" Fiona asked, her voice laced with worry.
"No," Addy replied, taking her last sip of coffee to warm up.
"Is that why you didn't want to get up this morning?" Debbie's voice chimed in, a hint of concern mixed with guilt for waking her up so abruptly.
"No," Addy said, her irritation evident. She felt Lip's hand on her forehead.
"Seriously," she swatted him away, "Guys, I'm fine. Look, I just need to put some clothes on. I'm getting my art assessment back today." She tried to sound more confident, hoping to dispel their worries while walking upstairs.
Addy loved her family, she really did, but sometimes they could be overbearing.
The siblings exchanged side glances. They knew she could get a bit stressed, but this wasn't her usual self. Addy was a morning person, not a grump.
"She was a little clammy," Lip added after a pause, voicing his concern about her physical state.
At School Just Before Lunch:
In her hurry that morning, Addy threw on loose grey sweatpants that hung off her hips, keeping the long-sleeve shirt on, and didn't bother with a bra. Her hair, a chaotic light brown mess, was hastily gathered into a bun.
She slumped in her seat, arms crisscrossed on her desk, and rested her head. The classroom was a dull sea of beige, worn-out desks, and faded posters depicting historical events that no one paid attention to. The teacher's voice droned on, but Addy couldn't find the energy or interest to listen. She hadn't been present in her 10th-grade history class for over a week, and the teacher's words seemed to blend into an indistinct buzz. She would catch up later or convince Lip to do her homework.
Glancing at the clock, she noted there were still 30 minutes left in the class. Maybe she could steal a moment of rest; her headache had migrated from her temples to settle heavily behind her eyes. Closing her eyelids, she tried to block out the monotony, simply anxious to get to her art class after lunch.
Addy was startled awake by the loud thwack of a ruler hitting her desk. Why was everyone so determined to rudely disrupt her much-needed rest today? Blinking away the remnants of sleep, she realized she must have dozed off pretty hard; a small puddle of drool had gathered on her sleeve. Quickly wiping it away, she sat up straighter, trying to appear alert.
Mr. Sullivan, their history teacher, wasn't even looking directly at her as he stated, "Gallager, my desk after class, you too, McCready."
A sense of unease settled in her stomach. He didn't wait for a response, continuing with the last five minutes of his lecture while Addy tried to shake off her drowsiness. This couldn't be good, she thought.
When the bell rang, she dragged herself to Sullivan's desk, her eyes briefly catching Alex's disheveled appearance. His dark brown hair was tousled, and a faint 5 o'clock shadow added years to his 16-year-old face, making him look older than he should.
The history teacher cleared his throat, his voice monotone. "Since you two have finally decided to rejoin my class, you'll be paired for the final project together." He held out a paper for each of them without much enthusiasm. "All the information is there. That is all." He dismissed them, displaying his typical lack of interest in his students.
"Great," Addy muttered, her annoyance evident. "I'll do mine solo, thanks." She reached for the paper, but Sullivan held onto it.
"This is not up for debate, Miss Gallagher. You'll do it together or lose 40% of your final grade."
Addy lacked the energy to argue. With a resigned sigh, she glanced at Alex once more before conceding defeat. "Fine." He didn't seem to care anyway. In all likelihood, she would end up doing the majority of the project on her own.
She had barely made it down the hall before she heard her name, sharp and unexpected, "Gallagher!"
She halted, her annoyance evident. What now? What did he want? It was Alex's voice.
She turned, finding him right behind her.
"Look, you get a freebie this time on the paper, okay," she snapped before he could say anything, her tone laced with irritation.
A glare settled in his gaze as he looked down at her.
"Bitch much," he retorted. She scoffed, unimpressed, and went to turn around, refusing to engage further.
He grabbed her elbow to stop her, not gently but not unkindly either. She stiffened, acutely aware of his touch. In that brief moment, they engaged in a silent standoff. His eyes, tired and burdened, met hers. The bags under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights, and her own fatigue reflected in her paleness. There was something off or different about him, something in his gaze, his eyes lost their usual hostility. It was as if a puppy had been kicked.
"You know what, never mind," he let go of her, his gaze dropping away. Something in her eyes had made him uncomfortable. "Just be a good girl and don't fuck up our paper."
Addy scowled at his condescension, the flicker of vulnerability she thought she had seen vanished.
"Whatever," she shook her head, her defiance returning, and she walked away, determined to find her brothers.