A/N: This - compared to my usual length - is abysmally short. Sorry about that. I usually have chapters that are well over 5k+ for those of you that are familiar with my writing. But for those who have read Glow before, this is actually a chapter that has never been posted. It's actually one of the lost chapters that I couldn't fit in. So this will be new to those who have read it as well. I hope you enjoy. Hoping to update next week.

Song in the quotations by the legendary ABBA.

Chapter 5- Five Minutes

or:

"Slipping Through my Fingers"

April 1986

"Okay, so our list…" Melvin started off, scanning the paper that Henry had written for him and Sheila in the middle of the store. She glanced over at the things that were needed. "Milk, eggs, bread, yogurt… damn it, he forgot to put Hamburger Helper-"

"We don't need Hamburger Helper," Sheila said, snatching the paper away.

"Hey!" Melvin shrieked. "Just because you hate it, doesn't mean that we can't have it."

"But Melvin, it's terrible."

"It isn't!"

"It so is. I would rather die than buy that garbage." Sheila grinned mischievously. "Maybe I can get some nail polish instead…"

"No way," Melvin cut in. "You don't decide to cut food from our list…"

"If you could even call it that-"

"...just so you can get something nice for yourself," Melvin went on like he hadn't been interrupted. He snatched the list from her. "Oh and a few other things…"

"We get it, you can read," Sheila told him sardonically.

"Definitely not one of the worst things I read today…"

Sheila rolled her eyes. "Oh please don't start again-"

"No, because I don't understand," Melvin went on: "I hate hearing about bombing other countries. I mean, if I wanted peace with others… wouldn't you, I don't know, not bomb other countries?"

"Melvin-"

"It just seems… wrong."

"You get a lot of that stuff from mom," Sheila marveled. "I mean, back when she was younger…" There were stories Henry told them; about how mom was very anti-war in her youth, that she was one of those protesting against the war in Vietnam, and that she didn't like conflict that ended up in violence. Sheila thought it was a little ironic now.

Nonetheless, those values had passed onto her second eldest son.

"...Anyway," Melvin moved on: "Damn, looking at the money we have now, I'm not sure we can afford… Shelly, what are…" He paused to see that Sheila was not beside him, but looking around briefly before she put a loaf of bread in her school bag. Melvin looked around, relieved to see no one was watching, then leaned to hiss at his sister: "Shelly…"

"There are no cameras, right?"

"Shelly!"

"Oh okay, there aren't."

"What did Henry tell you about stealing?" Melvin whispered, horrified.

"We need to eat," Sheila told him. "Besides, this place is deserted. We're two kids that look like we're ten because we're small… they're not going to suspect anything."

"Shelly… put it back."

"No," Sheila said firmly. She pointed to the junk food section: "Look." Melvin saw a box of twelve cupcakes. She shrugged while Melvin looked confused. "All I'm saying is, well… Wes and Wen would be really happy if we got them some sweets." Melvin knew what she was implying and did not like it one bit.

Melvin bit his lower lip. "But-"

She grinned at him: "Don't worry, I'll make sure no one sees." Melvin let out a sigh. Looking around – almost paranoid, which made his sister roll her eyes – he snatched the box of cupcakes and put it in his school bag. "Now let's go pay at the front." Without saying another word, Sheila moved forward, while Melvin meekly followed.

"God I wish I was small enough to not be noticed right now."

"Melo, you're very small-"

"Okay, but is it possible to get smaller…"

"You will if we don't get this loaf of bread and cupcakes," Sheila said. "Okay so we got everything else though…" They went to the front. "Hi!" she said, abnormally cheerful, even for her. "Just these items here." Melvin glared at Sheila, but she was unfazed. The woman behind the counter smiled and checked out the items.

"What's the total?" Melvin asked. The lady told them. He let out a low whistle. "Damn, things are getting pretty expensive. Funny, isn't it?" He let out a forced laugh and took out the money. The lady behind the counter did not find this amusing, nor did Sheila. Melvin and Sheila got their things back successfully and rushed out the store.

"Could you be any more suspicious?" Sheila snarled, then scoffed: "God, you sounded like Henry when you tried to make chit-chat, I mean really?"

"Well excuse me, for not wanting to break the law," Melvin retorted. "Can't believe you convinced me to shoplift… shoplift!"

"Farrah Fawcett shoplifted twice, and she's cool."

"She's an icon, but not because she shoplifted." They were starting to walk home.

Sheila hummed a little to herself. "Do you think Farrah Fawcett is hot?" Melvin raised an eyebrow at the peculiar question that was out of the blue. "I mean, Henry does…"

Melvin snorted. "He has that swimsuit poster of hers on the wall of the top bunk, and I had to listen to him talk about the lengths he was willing to go to get that, it's nauseating." Not surprising, though. Henry always had a thing for blondes, especially that idiotic blonde girl he was currently going out with. Urgh. "But yeah, I… suppose you could say she's pretty."

"Felicity told me there's a difference between finding someone pretty and hot."

Melvin frowned deeply. "She's nice to look at, I guess."

"I think she's hot," Sheila marveled, earning a shocked look from Melvin. She furrowed her brows at her brother. "What I'm thinking about when I look at her is wow, I'd really like to be friends with her. Or even be her."

Melvin shrugged. "Sure, I guess." They were home now. "Wanna let mom and the twins know that you shoplifted?"

At the doorstep. "Not a chance."

"Let's just never tell anyone about this experience ever."

"Agreed." And they walked in.

"I don't understand," a male customer, who looked to be in mid-forties, complained for what Henry seemed like the fifteenth time. The man had already gone through a rant about his burrito, which Henry had zoned out of a long time ago, and will likely do so here to ensure his sanity. Though Henry was patient, there was only so much he could take, and the manager was in the back doing fuck all about it. "It is a simple burrito. A. Simple. Burrito. It's one of the main things here at this trash dumpster fire of a fast food chain."

"You want to add not one, not two, but fifteen condiments on it," Henry argued back, though it was very calmly – but firm. "When you add condiments, it is going to charge more. The way that the burritos are made-"

"I want to speak to your manager already."

"He's busy right now." But god, did Henry wish that he was here. "So I'm in charge." An unfortunately common occurrence as of lately. A few of the employees from the kitchen came to the front to see the commotion.

"They put a sixteen-year-old in charge?" The man scoffed. "This place is a joke."

"Welcome to the fast food business, it only gets worse from there," Henry deadpanned.

"I just want my burrito!" the customer shrieked.

"Henry, clock out, take your break!" the manager shouted from the back.

"Thank fucking god," Henry muttered under his breath. He was convinced his manager did this to him on purpose, even though dealing with unruly customers was way out of his pay. But now the manager was coming back to deal with this incident.

Henry didn't waste his time and clocked out before his manager could change his mind. The beeping noises that consumed the place made his brain hurt; along with having to deal with crappy customers that included an older woman demanded for a free coffee after one of the new boys accidentally put too much sugar into it. The manager actually did deal with it – which involved that woman getting her precious free coffee.

At the end of the day, Henry was just glad it didn't result in someone pulling out a knife.

Henry got his meal, practically wolfed it down, and stepped outside to lean against the wall. He took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one with the lighter in his other hand, and let out some smoke. He normally didn't smoke cigarettes and he knew that it was a filthy habit, but it was something that he had picked up on when he was around his friends that were doing it - along with his co-workers.

"Hey stranger." Henry abruptly coughed up the smoke. Lindsay – for that was who it was – stood there awkwardly as Henry began to catch his breath: "Jesus, are you okay?"

"You scared me," Henry said, but smiled when he was finished coughing. Lindsay leaned in for a kiss, but frowned as Henry pulled back. "Are you sure you want to kiss me when my breath tastes like cigarettes?"

Lindsay's arms locked around his neck. "Are you kidding? That's the best taste." Without a care in the world, her lips locked with his for a brief second. "Also, can I bum one?" Not needing to be asked twice, Henry took out a cigarette and lit it for her, which she inhaled.

"What are you doing here?" Henry couldn't help but ask.

Lindsay shrugged, eyeing the cigarette between her index and middle finger. "I just got bored. I knew you usually worked after school, so… I thought I'd stop by and say hi."

She was beautiful, really. "Well… hi." Even though Henry had been seeing Lindsay for about a month, he would still get flustered around her. Or maybe that was the cigarette talking, he wasn't that used to smoking. "But…" He exhaled forcefully. "...Don't you have anything better to do than to visit me?"

Why?! Why would you ask her that?!

"Oh there's this beer bust that's gonna be totally bitchin'," Lindsay told him. "It's later. Do you wanna come?"

"Can't. I have work, you know that…" It wasn't a lie, technically. And while he would love to hangout with Lindsay and go to that beer bust, it all came down to Sheila, Melvin, and the twins. He remembered the last time he dated a girl when he was thirteen (not that it lasted long, but anyway), Sheila and Melvin had been pissed the whole time over it because she was taking up a good portion of their time.

But then again, this was Lindsay Greene.

"You know what's interesting…?" Lindsay mused, putting out her cigarette. Henry watched as she stomped on it – she was a quick smoker, so used to it. "Normally when a guy blows me off a few times I assume that they're really not into me."

"No! I swear… I really am into you, it's not like that-"

"I know," Lindsay said, smiling. "That's why I said 'normally'. You're not very normal, are you?"

Henry chuckled at her wording, it was a massive understatement. "I guess not. I'm always busy. It's not you, it's… I have four siblings at home I have to take care of. My parents, uh… work a lot." If you could call it that. Henry sometimes how much money percentage wide his parents had was going to him and his siblings, it probably was not very much - or it would probably be spent on themselves vastly more.

"I get that," Lindsay said. Henry couldn't help but frown a bit; she could say that, yes, but in reality she would never get it. "It's usually my older brothers that watch over me and all that... 'cause mom and dad are always out working. Someday we'll get out of this shithole. Do you want to?"

Henry furrowed his brows at her. "Want to what?"

"Get out of this shithole."

"Pfffft," was the sound that came out of Henry's mouth. Part of him would love it, he really would. Someplace better for him, for Sheila and Melvin, and especially the twins. But the chances of that happening were slim to none, and even if they did manage to get out of here - would they be able to adapt? Surely the twins would be able to since they were younger, but what about the rest of them?

Despite these swimming thoughts, Henry answered: "Yeah, maybe some day."

"You're a great guy, you know," said Lindsay. "I don't see why you couldn't. I mean... I don't know much, not smart and all... but something good's gotta happen to you. What's it they say? What goes around comes around? So maybe something good will happen to repay you."

Henry kept thinking this. He kept thinking that maybe one day, somehow, they would get out of their neighborhood. It was selfish, but he insisted that he was doing the right thing, that he was doing right by his siblings - hopefully raising them to have better morals than the others in their neighborhood. But of course something would come up, it was like they were taking one step forward and three steps back.

"I have to get back to work," Henry told her, instead. "I'll see you later." He had about five minutes left for break, but he didn't want to talk - nor think - about this anymore.

Sheila and Melvin stared at the scene in front of them, as soon as they had gotten home. The television was on, yet their mother was nowhere to be seen. Their father was, however - but he was not present. He was in the kitchen, passed out, and reeked of booze. Sheila and Melvin exchanged a glance. Though not uncommon, their father reeked of booze more than usual. It wasn't as disturbing as it should've been for them. The most concerning part was that their mother was not home.

"The twins," Sheila hissed quietly to Melvin. "The twins were left alone, they..." Now it became a little more disturbing. If their mother was not home, then their father was left alone with the twins. Panicking, Sheila and Melvin dropped their groceries and headed to the bedroom.

"Mom is so dead," Sheila whispered fiercely on the way.

"Stop it. You don't-"

"She left the twins alone with him, Melo!" They stopped in the bedroom to see that Wes and Wen were sleeping soundly in their crib. Melvin briefly checked the twins' for any signs of injuries on them, and luckily, none of them even had a scratch. Sheila let out a sigh of relief.

"See, look... the twins are okay - Sheila!" Sheila didn't listen after the confirmation that the twins were okay. She stormed back into the living room, grabbing both of her father's hands. Melvin looked absolutely mortified. "Shelly, what are you doing?!"

"Hold the door open. He's sleeping outside tonight." Melvin opened his mouth to argue, but closed after he really didn't have any argument this time. He held the door open as Sheila requested. She dragged him outside, and once he was fully out, shut the door and locked it. "There. That'll do it."

"Maybe mom thought we'd be home earlier, she-"

"Stop," she ordered angrily. "You know, we're lucky that we leave them alone with mom, but dad?! No way." Sheila was about to go even further, that was until Wes and Wen started calling for her and Melvin from the bedroom. She whipped her body around before going to the twins: "We'll talk later." Sheila went back to the bedroom, with Melvin meekly following (like he had already today). "Hi Weasels!" Sheila called out, her tone quickly switching to a soft one. "Was mom here?"

Wen furrowed his brows in confusion. "Mom?"

"Yes."

"Yeah!" Wes cheered gleefully. "She go bye-bye when we... we take nap." Sheila and Melvin closed their eyes simultaneously at the vague description. They couldn't blame the twins, of course - but when it came to the whereabouts of their mother they wouldn't have a clue.

Sheila sat down on Melvin's bunk bed. "Might as well wait then." She took out a small bottle of clear nail-polish and began to paint her own nails.

"Shelly!" Melvin exclaimed. "Where did you... how did - oh never mind, why did you take that?" Sheila didn't bother to look up, continuing to paint her nails like Melvin hadn't even spoken to her. "Shelly, don't ignore me-"

"I was bored," Sheila supplied for her older brother. "An opportunity rose, and... I wanted the nail polish."

"I've read about this in a book before," Melvin went on, shaking his head. "Are you a klepto?"

"If that means I like getting things, then yes, I guess so," Sheila told him sarcastically.

"No, it means you like stealing for the sake of it."

"...I guess so." After she was finished painting her nails, she blew on them lightly for them to dry. She felt her brother's eyes on her - not out of judgment, but out of curiosity. Smirking to herself, she got out the bottle. "Did you want?"

Melvin scoffed and crossed his arms. "It was stolen."

"Okay, but you always wanted to paint your nails," Sheila argued slyly, still smirking. She shook the bottle tauntingly. "We talked about it a few months ago." Melvin eyed the bottle, still appearing hesitant. So Sheila had to push a bit more: "It's clear. Hardly anyone at school is gonna notice, besides, I know how much you like it because when we see those snobby rich girls you always talk how manicured their hands are." She giggled a little at the thought. "I think it's your way of saying you have a crush on them."

She noticed that Melvin got a little red, but she figured it was because she was right. Nonetheless, he gave in. She gestured him to sit on the floor with his hands facing her, his fingers spread out. "So..." Sheila started off, painting Melvin's thumb first. "...What do you think of Felicity?"

She saw Melvin look put off from that question. "She's your friend. I don't think of her."

"I mean like..." God this was awkward. "As a friend..."

"Honestly?" Melvin asked. "I don't know how you became friends with her. Lucy and Amber are alright, but... you hate gossip. And they always chat about boys they like."

"The gossip I don't care about, but I talk about boys with them... because..." Sheila was hesitant, then sent Melvin a glare: "Do you promise not to tell anyone this?" Melvin nodded eagerly, and leaned in as Sheila whispered: "I am starting to notice that guys are cute. Sure, they're mostly slobs and are dumb as bricks - no offense, Melo - but there's just something about them that are intriguing. For example, that Todd is interesting. Maybe I do like him. No offense Melo but I don't think it's something you can understand."

"What is it about these boys?" Melvin asked. Sheila blinked in surprise; she didn't think Melvin cared to hear about it. "Is it because of their hair or something? Because... Felicity talks about how guys have amazing hair, and I kind of get that. I mean - I can realize that guys have good hair, and that their smiles are nice too."

"That's kind of what I mean," Sheila advised him. "It's just different. I'm sure it's the same thing when guys realize girls are pretty. I mean, don't you remember how Henry acted disgusted by girls until he was in the eighth grade?" Melvin's lips formed into a thin line. Sheila merely stared at him. "Melo?"

"Oh yeah, right..."

"But about Felicity," Sheila went on, "I don't know. I didn't want to be alone, really. Making friends with Lucy, Amber, and Felicity. They're cool, actually. Even with the gossip and drama, they can be cool." She had finally finished painting his nails, and proceeded to blow on them lightly not unlike Sheila did with her own.

"How long does it take?" Melvin asked.

"To dry them? Around twenty minutes-" Sheila stopped talking once she and Melvin were greeted by a familiar presence. "Henry."

He didn't even seem to notice the nail polish. "Why is dad passed out outside?"

Sheila and Melvin shrugged, before the former spoke: "He probably had a little too much drink."

"He probably drank the entire bar this time," Melvin said bitterly.

Henry took a breath. "Where's mom?" Sheila let out a mirthful laugh at Henry's innocent question. Henry did not find this amusing in the slightest, and decided to press again: "I am going to ask again. Where. Is. Mom?"

"We have no idea," Sheila answered. "But when Melvin and I were grocery shopping, we came home to see that mom left the twins alone with dad." She paused so she could see Henry's reaction to the news; his face fell significantly. Sheila smiled at this, and proceeded to add fuel to the fire: "Potentially leaving dad to hurt the twins, but hey, we checked... the twins don't have a scratch on them, so we were lucky. Next time we might not-"

"There isn't going to be a next time," Henry snapped. "It is possible that she could've run off because of dad?"

"That's what I was thinking," Melvin added.

"No way... you guys aren't seriously okay with this!" Sheila exclaimed furiously. Wen and Wes looked on with confusion.

Henry frowned deeply. "What?! When did I say that?! This isn't okay at all!" Melvin looked resigned at the revelation. "We're going to talk to mom when she gets home-"

"If she gets home-"

"She will get home," Henry insisted to Sheila. "She never goes out for long anyway."

"Oh yeah, like the time mom and dad disappeared for three days on end because they were on a bender?" Sheila questioned darkly. "And then she came home with a new bruise on her left eye-"

"You know, I don't appreciate you talking like this, especially in front of the twins-"

"Why?" Sheila went on angrily, briefly glancing at the baffled twins. "I think Wes and Wen should know how our parents are lousy, terrible, screw-ups-"

"Can you stop?!" Melvin retorted.

"...Why is your father outside passed out?" Sheila, Melvin, and Henry's eyes grew wide at the sound of their mother's voice. The three of them shoved and pushed each other just to get the sight of their mother, who bore a clueless look on her face. They observed her; she didn't seem to be hurt - in fact, she looked completely calm and level-headed.

Henry pressed his lips together firmly. "Where were you?" He asked, avoiding his mother's question.

"I had gone just for a second just to get fresh air," their mother answered nonchalantly. "It was only going to be five minutes."

"Did dad do anything today to you?" Melvin asked her, more gently opposed to his older brother.

She shook her head. "No... he was very drunk, but... not the mean kind. He was just tired. So I figured it would be okay-"

"Why would it be okay?!" Sheila finally snapped. "When have we ever left the twins alone with dad? Hell, why should we ever leave you with the twins-" Her mother's expression went from calm to bewildered; which only made Sheila angrier - it was like nothing was being absorbed in that thick skull of hers. "He could've hurt them! He's unpredictable-"

"But Wes and Wen were in their crib," their mother argued. "He wouldn't have gone that far-"

"Yes. He. Would've," Sheila emphasized furiously, running a hand through her own hair in frustration. "God! You don't even realize how awful today could've turned out, just because you wanted to go outside!"

Their mother crossed her arms defensively. "Oh so I have to be locked down in my own house?"

"You left the twins alone with dad!" Henry exclaimed, rubbing his temples. "Mom, you can't be doing that."

Sheila scoffed, not in disbelief - she wasn't surprised at all by this. "Do you see this?! This is the reason why we can't leave either of them in charge of Wesley and Wendell. If you leave like that they could get hurt, or hurt themselves-"

"I'm their mother! I would never-"

"But you did," Sheila hissed. "I can't wait till we get that damn treehouse, which is the only reason I'm not screaming at you... because that treehouse is going to save their lives... and ours, but now I'm not sure if you care anymore."

"Sheila-"

She promptly ignored Melvin's protests and glared at her mother: "You better thank god that the twins are alive." That being said, she stormed out of the room, and eventually out of the house. She did not hear her older brothers trying to follow her. Sheila instinctively stepped over her father's body.

"Where are you going?" Henry barked out.

Sheila smirked to herself, and whipped her body around: "Going to get some fresh air," she spat.

"Do you realize how dark it is outside?"

Sheila didn't listen to Henry, instead looked at her mother. "Five minutes was it? Alright. I'll be back in five minutes." And she left.