Chapter 62: Alumni
Because Lip got caught doing exams for others, all the grades of the students he helped were invalidated. Many of them were tall, muscular Black athletes from the football and basketball teams. That night, a lot of them came to have a "chat" with Lip, leaving him physically and mentally drained.
The next morning was, once again, pure chaos at home.
"Why are Steve's clothes here?" Debbie asked with confusion.
"Because someone couldn't wait to get upstairs last night and started undressing right here," Lip said while holding Liam.
"What!?" Frank's eyes widened in disbelief.
"You brat—when did this happen!?" Frank stormed off to Fiona's room, only to find Steve sleeping soundly in her bed.
"F**k!" Frank cursed. Lately, he had been so focused on figuring out Lip and Ian that he'd let his guard down—and now Steve had made it into his precious daughter's bed.
Sure, Steve and Fiona had already been physically involved, but Frank still couldn't stomach it.
"Hey! Don't just barge into my room!" Before Frank could explode, Fiona pushed him out and shut the door behind him.
She knew Frank had an inexplicable hostility toward Steve and had always tried to keep them apart.
"When did you two make up? Did you forget what I told you? That guy came out of nowhere—he's no good!" Frank scolded, frustrated and disappointed.
"Just stay out of it." Fiona shoved him away.
What was done was done. It was too late for Frank to complain now, so he could only sulk with a dark face.
"We need to stock up today. What does everyone need?" Fiona called out.
"Toilet paper! The colored party streamers scratched my butt."
"We're out of toothpaste!"
"Diapers—we need more diapers."
"Since the test-taking gig is over, I can't do that anymore, but I can still hustle some side jobs if you need help," Lip offered.
"It's fine. I still have $35 on me, and I'm going to pick up the money from my last job later," Fiona replied.
"By the way, now that Carl's calmed down, he finally got invited to hang out with normal kids. His classmate Robbie is throwing an Easter Egg Shoot party," Lip mentioned.
"That's great!" Fiona smiled.
"But he's not planning to go," Lip added.
"Why not?" Frank, now distracted from Steve, turned to Carl.
"I'm not going. It costs $27 to participate," Carl muttered casually.
Though he sounded indifferent, it was easy to hear the disappointment in his voice. After all, kids his age still want to have fun with their friends.
This kind of situation is common in poor families—especially during college. Roommates from wealthier backgrounds can afford dinners and outings, while the poorer ones stay behind, alone in their dorms. Over time, this financial gap leads to feelings of inferiority and a lack of confidence. And that sense of difference starts young, once kids realize their family's struggles.
Carl understood the family's financial situation well. He tried not to be a burden whenever he could.
Even his bullying at school was partially rooted in that deep-seated insecurity. His main method? Shaking down other kids for lunch money—intimidation made them fork it over without resistance.
"It's fine, go have fun. Dad's got you covered," Frank said softly, patting Carl's head and pulling some money from his pocket.
"Awesome! Thanks, Dad!" Carl's eyes lit up as he snatched the money.
"You little rascal." Frank tousled his hair affectionately.
"Hey, morning." Karen walked in. She and Lip had agreed to visit the University of Chicago today to meet the professor who had caught him cheating.
After kicking Steve out of the house, Frank joined Karen and Lip on the train to the University of Chicago. All around them were energetic, hopeful young students.
"Hi, I'm Lip's father—Frank. Frank Gallagher," Frank said, tidying his hair and shaking the professor's hand.
The professor looked to be in his fifties, with neatly groomed hair and beard. He wore a suit under a trench coat, gleaming leather shoes, and a scarf around his neck. Everything about him screamed upper-class elegance—his clothes were clearly expensive.
"I'm Professor Hurst. Lip's a very smart young man," he said courteously.
"Oh, not at all! He gets his brains from me. I keep telling him not to let it go to his head," Frank joked.
"So, when you're not busting cheaters, are you a college professor?" Lip asked while glancing around.
"No, I am a professor. Catching cheaters is just a side hustle—it pays well enough to buy a yacht," Professor Hurst laughed.
While Frank and Lip spoke to the professor, a student assistant chatted with Karen.
"Are you planning to go to college?" the assistant asked.
"I haven't decided yet," Karen replied.
"Professor Hurst thinks Lip's a genius. He rarely praises anyone like that," the assistant said.
"I think he's a genius too. When he helps me study, there's never a problem he can't solve," Karen agreed.
"Well, if you ever do consider college, I'd recommend the University of Chicago."
"I'll think about it."
"So, Mr. Gallagher, what do you do for work now?" Hurst asked Frank.
"Uh, I'm freelancing at the moment—doing some translation work. I used to work in a company, but an accident left me disabled, so I can't do regular jobs anymore," Frank explained.
"Translation work?" Hurst asked curiously.
"Yeah, mostly Chinese," Frank replied.
"Chinese? That's a tough language. We don't have many Chinese-speaking professors here at the University of Chicago," Hurst said, a bit impressed.
"Well, it's manageable. I went to Northwestern University, you know. Though I dropped out senior year—got a bit wild," Frank said.
"Oh, you went to Northwestern too?" Hurst exclaimed in surprise.
"I graduated from there myself! Which class were you in?" he asked, suddenly much more enthusiastic.
In America's deeply stratified society, elite universities are social stepping stones. Dropping out of a top school like Northwestern isn't the same as dropping out of an average one.
People often cite Bill Gates or Steve Jobs as proof that degrees don't matter—but conveniently forget that both dropped out of elite institutions.