Chapter Text
It was gonna be a pain in the ass to get to school now; having to take the train early in the morning was something he wasn’t used to and he was pretty sure he’d never get used to. But he’d gotten accepted, so his oldest sister, Fiona, and brother, Lip, weren’t gonna let him turn down this opportunity.
Ian Gallagher, somehow ending up being the middle child in a family of six, was exceptionally smart. He knew it, his family knew it, and his teachers knew it. So no one was really surprised when he’d gotten accepted to Jones College Prep, a magnet school in the Downtown area. The school asked for transmits for kids who could be eligible to attend; seeing it was free to go there already, it was all about having the grades, and Ian had those. So yeah, it would take a little extra work to actually get there, but it would be worth it at the end.
And he ran down the stairs, almost instantly colliding with the glass walls of the building, only wishing that at least Lip would have been able to be there with him. Lip was a genius; he would have gotten in with flying colors. But with Lip’s records for attendance and lack of, they chose the next best thing: the ROTC cadet with straight A’s and B’s and “impeccable work ethics and a moral compass pointing toward a better life”.
“Besides,” Lip said the day Ian had received his acceptance letter, “I could get into college if I wanted to go. You’ll just have a better chance with going here.”
Ian walked in, completely surprised by his first day jitters he hasn’t gotten since 1st Grade. But then again, he thought, he hasn’t been the new student in a while. And starting sophomore year, second quarter, wasn’t really helping him out any. He’d be coming in when everyone has pretty much gotten used to the load they were force to be with. Here Ian was, adding to the list of people anyone would have to tolerate. And given his neighborhood? He could feel his heart racing. This couldn’t end well for him. A month or two- that’s how long it would take before he was out of there and back at his neighborhood school with his brother and his skanky slut girlfriend.
And before he knew it, a week was down. Ian was still getting acclimated by the end of the second week. He always did his homework and he always made sure he got it right, but the thing with this school was that they actually gave homework. For every class, too. So he found himself in his room after school during the time that he’d be with Lip, smoking or doing some other shit they had no business doing.
Oh, and there was the issue of his background. Surprisingly, even in this new environment, gingers were a rare sight, so everyone was quick to ask him where he came from. Their school had rules that involved on how students could be enrolled and when they were able to. And he was breaking those rules by being there.
The work was actually hard and people kept their distance. Two more weeks is all he gave himself now. He accepted that it would only be two more weeks until he was back on the south side because acceptance and difficulty weren’t the only problems he had:
Geometry. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand that shit. And he would do the homework and Lip would check it, but by the time the tests came at the end of each week, he’d been damn near the bottom on the ranks of grades. That’s why he was sure. He wasn’t great with math in general, but he was pretty sure the test score from last week and the one he currently held folded up in his pocket this week would be the reason for him getting kicked out of Jones.
He never thought he would come to this point; no one in his family did. It’s just, no one in that family was really going around talking about school that often. They passed along with what they got. If anything, the only mention of school was grades, and no one was really having problems with that- until now.
Ian had walked into their room, slumped and ready to crash after a hard week of school. He threw the folded test at Lip, who sat on the desk next to Ian’s bed with the window open so the smoke wouldn’t get stuck in their room. He didn’t check to make sure that Lip noticed, he just fell onto the bed with his face planted in the pillow. He could instantly feel sleep covering over him and barely heard Lip mention something about a tutor, a proper tutor, at school because he wasn’t gonna have his little brother leave that school.
Monday came around and Ian was ready to get on with the next to last week of his life here. He only barely remembered asking about the tutor, and felt some type of relief when his teacher had told him he knew exactly the person to tutor him. They’d meet after school that day to set up a schedule for that week (turns out Lip wasn’t the only one that wasn’t gonna have Ian leaving). He felt his luck was turning before anything actually happened.
Today had turned out to be his lucky day right after Geometry class. He had his Honors World Literature class and they were going to start a Dead Poets Project that would take place over the few weeks, doing a presentation every day.
The teacher had started the clock, telling them they had 30 seconds to find a partner. Ian stayed in his seat, letting whoever felt comfortable enough to approach him. And if no one came around, someone would be forced to work with the south side trash and he could deal with that.
He couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised when, only 10 seconds in, someone slid to sit next to him. A girl with long, thick, black hair and black eye liner to match that contrasted with her blue eyes and cream colored skin. He remembered her name started with an M, was it Mindy?
“Mandy,” Ian stated as her red painted lips turned into a grin.
“Wanna be partners?” she asked, her eyes held as if she knew the answer to that question already because, why wouldn’t he want to work with her. She perked up a bit when he nodded with a smile, sitting forward and turning toward the teacher. They raised their hands to signify that they had found and were sitting next to their partners. Ian sighed in relief when he didn’t have to be the awkward one with his hand down at that moment.
His luck had continued on when Mandy had slinked her arm with his after he entered the lunchroom to guide him toward the table she sat at with her friends, a few other girls that looked a lot like Mandy in the fact that they never got out of their Middle School Goth phase, but they only had bits and pieces. Turns out that Ian wasn’t the only one that stood out, and as he met the flash of judgment over each girl’s eyes before he felt the smile that translated to acceptance, Mandy also stood out. If she had ever looked at him in the millisecond that he saw those girls look at him, it must have been at some unknown time.
Mandy was his savior for most of the day, making him feel more comfortable than anyone had in the past two weeks. On top of that, she didn’t ask him about the south side (well, she did make the comment that he didn’t look like he belonged there).
“We should probably meet up soon,” she stated at the end of the day, by his locker. She stood really close, leaning against the locker next to his. “I mean, I know we’re the last group to go but, I’ve never even heard of…” she paused, trying to remember the name of the guy they were given, “Henry Lisben.”
Ian chuckled. When Mandy looked at him with confusion, he corrected, “Henrik Ibsen”. He absurdly remembered the name because it was something he wasn’t used to. The only reason he recalled Mandy’s name was because of her last name: Milkovich. It was a name he’d never heard before, and the flow of her name was what made him state the correct one at the given time. “But yeah, we could just hurry up to get started. Then we can add on when necessary. Did you have a place in mind?” He closed his locker and remembered as he started walking he had to meet up with whoever his tutor would be in his Geometry class.
Mandy quickened her pace to his, having to walk with quicker steps to meet Ian’s longer strides. “What about today at the library? We could get some frozen yogurt across the street at the DePaul Center?”
Ian looked to her with raised eyebrows. So far, her personality didn’t exactly fit her physical appearance. If she had some sort of reputation, he wasn’t getting a feel for that. But then again, no one exactly saw Karen Jackson as the massive slutbag type, but there she was, whorin’ it up while somehow managing to still be with Lip. He shook off his look to replace it with apologetic eyes and a slight smile. “Sorry. I have to go meet someone for…” he stopped himself, wondering how good it would be to admit that he wasn’t doing so hot in Geometry?
Mandy shrugged. “How about tomorrow then?” She chewed on her bottom lip.
There was a pinch in Ian that he felt instantly, and as soon as the idea sparked in his head while watching the persistence grow in Mandy’s features, he couldn’t shake it. Was it possible that maybe Mandy kind of… It would explain the day, her willingly choosing him when he was sure she had friends of her own that she could have done the project with, hauling him off to sit with her at lunch, walking with him to all his classes afterwards, running up to his locker afterwards, insisting they start their project when they’d be presenting at the end of next week. Was it possible?
No, Ian thought. It couldn’t be. And he shouldn’t have thought so highly of his freckle covered face to think Mandy would actually like him. Plus, even if he was a sex god in any sort, it wouldn’t matter because of one fatal flaw.
He was gay. And he’d figured that out a few years prior. Lip found out a few months ago when his trashy skank girlfriend (or friend, whatever) hadn’t been able to get him up under the table while she went to blowing him. That was the end of the extent of who knew at this point, and it was necessary where he lived for very few people to know. But here? Wasn’t he supposed to be safe here? They were only a few blocks away from the gay neighborhood, and he was sure that the guys that worked at the library down the street were gay (he knew; they were obvious). But he barely knew this Mandy Milkovich. So even if he was safe, which he wasn’t completely sure if he was, he wasn’t going to come out to her. He was still getting shunned for being from the south side, everyone being afraid that he might thug out on them in some way.
“Is tomorrow not good either?” Mandy asked, and he tried to not notice the disappointment (or was it rejection) laced in her words.
“No,” he quickly comforted. “No, tomorrow should be fine. But I won’t know until I talk to this person. I can tell you tomorrow.”
“Or you can tell me tonight,” she informed. “What’s your number?” she asked, ending with a hip bump. Ian gave it to her for her determination. They could be great friends. They would. Ian could feel it.
So he knew his next words wouldn’t come out right. “I…don’t have a cell phone. Well, I share one with my siblings. Something about us getting our own when we’re 18,” he’d used that lie so many times it felt like the truth. The truth, however, was that he was saving up, working out the corner store in his neighborhood, Kash & Grab, on the weekends.
“You’re a mysterious character, Ian Gallagher,” Mandy ended with a sigh. “Fine. Find me tomorrow morning and tell me.” She caught him off guard when she slid her arms around his neck to pull him in for a hug. He hugged back and watched her run off towards the door behind them.
When he got to the classroom, it was completely empty. Ian groaned, under the impression that he got there too late and would have to try and catch up with them tomorrow. It probably would have made things easier if he’d know his tutor’s name.
He sighed, turning back around to leave the classroom when he collided with someone and hit his nose.
“Shit!” Ian hissed grabbing hold of his nose, feeling the sting spread throughout his cheeks.
“Yeah,” he could hear someone mumble. “I could say the same thing.”
When Ian took his hand away, letting the sting fade away, he felt his breath get caught in his chest. He noticed the guy’s golden blond hair first; the hint of a Mohawk or quiff, Ian wasn’t sure which it was. With his hand still trying to massage the pain out of his nose, the guy’s blue eyes were the next thing that struck Ian and they were mesmerizing, a light blue that could turn any shade from the glow of a sapphire gem to the brightness of a cloudless sky.
He finally took his hand away, sporting a patch of red as the blood faded from his nose and cheeks. Shit, were those lips even real? They were a noticeable pink and full, giving his Fiona’s a run for their money.
“Mr. Lennon told me one of his students needed help with Geometry,” the guy spoke, one of his eyebrows arching sharply with a bit of annoyance. “Are you that student?”
Ian only nodded, not wanting to stutter over his words.
He smiled then. “Cool. I’m Mickey.” He stuck out his hand for Ian to shake, and Ian did his best to stay calm. He moved passed, and Ian followed to sit next to Mickey at a desk next to him. He realized then that he never introduced himself.
“I’m Ian. Gallagher.” He was surprised out how level his voice was. It helped him relax a bit.
Ian watched Mickey dig for something in his bag on the floor, watching how the black fabric of the shirt he wore stretched over and created defining outlines of muscles on his shoulders. He brought up with him a planner and pencil. “Well, Ian. Do you have your last test with you?”
His heart fluttered. “Oh. No. I thought we were just gonna plan out a schedule. I didn’t know we were gonna start today.”
“That’s the plan, man,” Mickey comforted. “I just wanted to know to see maybe what we should start on helping you with.”
“Well, I got a 62%.”
Mickey smirked, writing something down in his planner.
Turns out that being laughed at could take away any type of nervousness in a heartbeat. “Uh, what’s so funny?” Ian asked.
Mickey looked up with contemplation as he bit into his lower lip. With a shrug, he replied. “S’nothin’. Just thought that you’re doin’ better than I was at this point.”
“But it’s the second quarter.”
“Yeah, well it took me a while to grasp this shit.”
Ian opened his mouth, about to ask how this guy was supposed to help him with something he hadn’t even known that well to begin with. What grade was he even in?
“How many people have you tutored before?”
He bit his lip again, and Ian watched this time as the blood returned once the pressure of his teeth had been released. He wanted to watch it again and have it on automatic replay. “Counting you? One.” Mickey rolled his eyes as he watched Ian’s widened. “Relax, dude. I got it afterwards. And I’m a boss at math; but all these fuckin’ shapes just made shit confusing. Wait til you start learning about proofs. I felt like a dumbass with that. But hopefully, you won’t.”
“Hopefully,” Ian mumbled, repeating the operative word.
“So, what’s your schedule like? Wanna go before school, after school, during lunch? I have a free period. You could skip one of your classes if this means that much to you.”
“Well, I have a project for my Honors World Lit class, I can even think of what to say to Mandy if I ditch her during lunch-“
“Mandy?” Mickey interceded, his eyebrows stitched together. “Milkovich?” When Ian nodded, he grinned. “Don’t worry; I can take care of her.”
He saw it then, the same rise in the cheekbones as they smiled. “You’re her brother.”
“One of them,” Mickey corrected. “Closest to her, actually. The rest are, like, in their 20’s. So, if lunch with my sister is that important, we could do mornings.”
Ian groaned, not relishing the thought of having to get up even earlier just to make study sessions before school started. “I can’t do that. Getting up that early, no. I can’t.”
“Whadduya mean? Where you live?”
He must not have been in his grade then. He didn’t know Ian was the south side charity case. But fuck, he didn’t want this guy shooting for the high roads because he was supposed to be this piece of trash from the other side of the tracks. But Mandy would tell him, he was sure of it. “Canaryville,” Ian answered in a hush tone.
“Seriously?” And that’s when Mickey’s eyes began to wonder. And Ian could feel his skin warm under the older boy’s gaze. “You don’t look like it.”
“Same thing your sister said.”
“Yeah, you look too…I don’t know,” he paused to lick his lips; Ian prayed the shuddering breath he took was low enough for Mickey not to hear, “clean.”
Ian cleared his throat, wanting to change the topic to take that look off Mickey’s face, the look that made his skin scorch and- he hoped it didn’t- turned his cheeks to a red close to the color of his hair. “Uh, you sure Mandy wouldn’t mind? The whole lunch thing?”
“I’m sure she would, but she sees you all day right? I’m sure she can manage me stealing her ginger snap for an hour.” He wrote something else in his planner before closing it and letting it fall back into his bag.
“Right. So where should I-“
“I’ll come to your locker. Mandy can tell me where it is. I don’t eat lunch at school, so it’d be counterproductive if you tried searching.”
They picked up their bags at the same time and their faces were dangerously close. Mickey gave a breathless laugh. “Maybe one of us should go first. I don’t recover as quick from getting knocked in the face as you do.”
He curtly stood up and headed for the door. He turned back to say bye or something, but when he turned back, he felt that would be the stupidest and most obvious thing ever.
“See ya tomorrow, Gallagher,” Mickey replied to Ian’s wordless goodbye.
Ian turned back and smiled wide; he’d have an hour with Mickey Milkovich every day. This had to be his lucky day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mickey Milkovich had walked the halls with fury, wanting to do nothing with this whole tutoring shit. He barely understood it when he was actually taking it last year; now he was being forced to help some sophomore who was in the same predicament as him. All he knew was he really didn’t want to do this. Or so he thought.
After Ian Gallagher had left, he let a massive breath go. He had other reasons to be upset now. He was mainly mad at himself for giving in to the younger boy’s jitters. And he was even more upset at how he would smile against his will because seriously how was he not supposed to smile at that face.
He picked up his bag, feeling a pang of humiliation; damn, he hadn’t meant to check the red head out so blatantly. But he guessed he had a good enough reason.
Worst of all, he was friends with Mandy. Mandy had mentioned him last week in passing: “the cute red head that transferred” as she’d put it. The words had resonated after he’d mentioned they were friends. He felt a bittersweet feeling cloud over at the prospect of them becoming closer. What if she ever invited him over to their house in the future? But, fuck, what if he would have to walk pass them making out. Yup, it was all bittersweet.
But now he’d have to spend an hour a day with Ian Gallagher.