Dad says overdose, in between tobacco-coughs and ball-scratching. Mandy sits on the sofa next to Mickey and Joey and they don't cry, not once, because Milkoviches don't cry over dead people, or real people, or bruising fists, or knives. She thinks she hears a sniffle but no one will say who it's from, and they don't fucking need their mom anyway, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.
There's a guy she sort-of fucks when she's not busy not-fucking Ian Gallagher and he tells her she has great tits, and she thinks she'll go down in history for that, Mandy Milkovich and her great tits and her great mouth and her great pussy.
She says fuck you to the teachers who said she'd be nothing, because in the moment where he's about to come, she feels fucking invincible, and she's never nothing, not until she slides out from under him and he says, "Let yourself out through the backdoor," and doesn't look at her again.
Dad comes home late, after the Alibi Room closes. His breath stinks like stale tequila and when he moves inside of her, he covers her mouth with his hand and calls her by her mom's name, and Mandy suddenly feels very small.
He comes inside of her, doesn't say sorry, just rolls over and passes out on the ground beside her.
She doesn't even cry.
Ian is great.
He'll go down in history for being great. Mandy has great tits but that doesn't really matter to Ian, who makes these stupid as fuck faces when she tries to kiss him, who talks about the guy he fucks in vague monosyllables and ambiguous name-changes.
She lies and says she's glad for him, glad he's happy, glad the guy he fucks gives good head, glad that he isn't fucking her because she couldn't handle that anyway, Ian, so fucking glad you're gay as shit.
Ian is stupid and oblivious and he doesn't even get it, doesn't even try.
On a night where the smog from the city is thick as clouds, she sits her ass down on the toilet by Mickey's room, the room he hasn't touched since he got himself sent to juvie, and passes the pregnancy test.
And again. And again. And again. And again.
She passes every time and her eyes are dry.
Abortions don't hurt. It doesn't hurt to get it sucked out of her like a vacuum, and it doesn't hurt when they tell her it's all gone, and it doesn't hurt when Ian is standing there afterwards with his hands in his pockets and he still doesn't want to see her great fucking tits.
It doesn't hurt at all, and she doesn't shed a tear, and she doesn't even breathe.
Ian tells her about everything he wants, and his fingers are long and sweeping, and his eyelashes are stupid and clumpy and he hasn't even touched her, not once. She touches his thigh and he stops talking about the things he wants, and she wants him, and she wants him to want her.
He swallows and says, "Mandy," like it's a warning.
She pulls back like she's been burned, and her face goes red when he says, "I've gotta tell you something."
She thinks about Ian's hands on Mickey's hips, and Ian's tongue on Mickey's neck, and Ian's teeth in Mickey's shoulder, for the entire next day at school, and when she gets home, she cries like a fucking baby.
Mickey comes home late, smells sweaty and gross, and she hates him more than she hates anyone.
But when he finds her crying on the couch, he puts an arm around her and says, "Who do I have to fucking kill?" and she cries ugly and loud and doesn't hate him at all.