Chapter 3: Fiona's Meaningless Persistence
"So… you're paying me forty bucks just to fill these out?"
Lip stared blankly at the stack of college application forms spread out on the table.
Harvard. MIT. Stanford. Princeton.
He looked up at William, confused. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious," William said with a smile. "You fill them all out with your name on them, and the forty bucks is yours."
Lip frowned. It was, without question, the strangest thing anyone had ever asked him to do for money.
Even if, by some miracle, one of those schools accepted him, there was no way in hell he could afford the tuition.
American university fees were a beast — a man-eating monster that devoured the poor and fattened the rich.
If you could afford college in America without loans, it meant your family was loaded.
"Just fill 'em in and that's it?" Lip asked again, suspicion creeping in.
"Then I get the forty?"
"Exactly." William placed the two crisp twenties on the table. "They're right here. Take them or leave them."
Lip stared at the money. His jaw tightened.
"Whatever. Just forms. Not like it's gonna change anything."
He grabbed a pen and started writing furiously.
---
Meanwhile, across the street, in the Jackson house—
Karen leaned against her bedroom window, staring out at the snow-covered street.
"Weird… Lip said he'd come tutor me today."
But the sidewalk was empty.
---
Filling out ten-plus applications took time.
Before they knew it, the whole morning had flown by.
"All done!" Lip shoved the stack of forms toward William. "Now gimme my cash."
William smiled and nodded.
This time, he didn't stop him from taking it.
After all, his real goal had already been achieved — stall Lip long enough to ruin his 'tutoring session' with Karen Jackson.
The forty dollars was just bait.
---
William leaned back in his chair as Lip stuffed the money into his pocket.
He wasn't exactly rich himself — as a student at the Lincoln Grove High School, he had his own bills to worry about.
His tuition was covered, sure, but everything else came out of his own pocket.
Still, forty bucks was a small price for a butterfly effect.
He checked the forms one last time — everything looked good.
Then a growl cut through the silence.
Lip's stomach.
The kid froze, awkwardly lowering his head, pretending nothing happened.
At seventeen, pride came easy, but hiding hunger didn't.
Lip Gallagher — half genius, half self-loathing mess.
William didn't laugh.
Instead, he reached over and patted his shoulder.
"Come on," he said warmly. "Lunch is on me."
Lip tensed immediately.
"Wait. What?"
This guy gives him forty bucks, then offers to buy him food?
His instincts screamed something's off.
In the South Side, no one did nice things for free.
"...Shit," Lip thought, eyes widening.
"He's not one of those guys, is he?!"
He wasn't exactly homophobic — hell, living with Ian made that impossible —
but if this tall, handsome stranger tried anything on him, he was gonna throw hands.
William noticed the wary, almost panicked look on Lip's face and immediately realized what he was thinking.
He sighed.
"Your sister Fiona — where does she work again? Let's eat there."
To make his point crystal clear, he even gave Lip a subtle wink.
Lip squinted. "So you're into Fiona?"
He smirked and pulled out the forty dollars, waving it teasingly.
The meaning was obvious.
You paid me to stall me, huh? All for my sister?
William just shrugged. "Interpret it however you want."
Honestly, he didn't care anymore. He just wanted to finish the mission, claim that Wolverine-level healing factor,
and not worry about colds, cuts, or cancer ever again.
Lip grinned, slinging an arm around William's shoulder.
"Man of taste," he said with a laugh. "Come on, I'll take you to Fiona's place myself."
---
And just like that, the two of them walked off together through the falling snow —
one clueless kid with forty bucks in his pocket,
and one transmigrator about to earn his first taste of superhuman power.
Global Burger — the greasy fast-food joint where Fiona Gallagher worked her fingers to the bone.
She rushed through the door, tied her apron, and slipped behind the counter just as the lunch rush hit.
"Candy skipped her shift again?" asked the middle-aged Black woman manning the register.
Fiona sighed, adjusting her visor. "She's at Bob's hearing today."
The woman shook her head. "That boy's gonna ruin her life sooner or later. What'd he do this time?"
"Got caught trying to spray-paint a police car… while the cops were sitting inside it."
The older woman blinked. "...What?"
She handed Fiona a Jumbo Hotdog, still shaking her head.
In America, that name carried… well, certain implications. Fiona didn't even blink.
"Who ordered the Jumbo Hotdog?" she called out.
"That'd be me," came a greasy drawl.
A redneck-looking guy in a faded plaid shirt was staring at her in a way that made her skin crawl.
Fiona shot him a flat look. "I've got X-ray vision, honey," she said dryly, tossing the hotdog across the counter.
The man laughed, handed over a crumpled five, and strutted away.
As he joined his friend, Fiona overheard the rest.
"Hey, would you hit that?"
"Maybe, if I had two condoms," his buddy snickered. "Girls like her don't do abortions, man."
Fiona's jaw tightened.
She bit down her anger — she was used to this kind of garbage.
All she could do was mutter under her breath, "Assholes."
---
"Assholes!" someone echoed behind her, louder this time.
She turned — and blinked.
"Lip? What the hell are you doing here?"
Lip grinned. "What, can't a guy get lunch when someone's paying?"
He tilted his head slightly, and Fiona noticed the tall blond man standing behind him.
William.
"Oh, right — Aunt Ginger's friend." She smiled faintly. "Didn't expect to see you again."
"Hey, Fiona," William said with a polite smile. "Two cheeseburgers, two drinks."
He handed her a twenty.
Prices weren't outrageous yet in 2010 — twenty bucks was more than enough.
But William wasn't paying for food. He was buying opportunity.
Fiona took the bill and began counting change, but he waved it off.
"Keep it. For the tip."
She raised an eyebrow. "That's generous. Thanks."
Still, she didn't argue. A tip was a tip.
---
That was Fiona Gallagher for you.
In money matters, she was strangely stubborn —
a mix of pride and misplaced dignity.
Call it "integrity" if you're being kind.
"Pointless pride" if you're being honest.
She'd starve before she'd beg for help.
But when it came to her love life… she'd never shown that same restraint.
---
A few minutes later, William and Lip sat down at a corner booth, their trays steaming.
Lip took a massive bite of his burger, talking around a mouthful of lettuce and meat.
"So, man," he said, glancing at Fiona across the counter.
"Be honest — you tryin' to date my sister, or just bang her?"
--