Okay, I tried to pinpoint an age for Timberly. My research brought me "4 years old" or as her being in first grade. My knowledge is that those in 1st grade tend to be about six, so I used that as my basis for aging her.
Oh man, here we go.
"Get up Gerald! You need to take me to the mall!"
I groaned, rolling over in my sleeping bag and covering my head with the pillow. Sometime I was really glad I didn't have any siblings.
"Gerald!" Timberly whined again, and I heard her stomp her foot on the floor.
"Get out Timberly, geez! Take the bus or something; it's only 10:30!" Gerald grumbled from the bed. I couldn't see him, but I knew he'd done the exact same thing I'd done with the pillow. She'd hit the light switch, flooding the room.
"I don't want to take the smelly old bus. I want you to take me."
"Timberly, no! Besides, I have company."
"Whatever, it's just Arnold," she grumbled back.
"Good morning to you too, Timberly," I muttered back, throwing my arm up to wave at her. I rolled over onto my back, pushing the pillow away from my eyes. I glanced over at Gerald, who hadn't budged from the bed.
"I bet Arnold would take me!" she said haughtily, apparently noticing that I was the only one moving that had a license. "I bet he'd take his little sister and her friends to the mall, if they asked him."
"Yeah, I don't have a sister," I reminded her as I sat up, rubbing the back of my head as I tried to wake up fully. I'd always felt a little bad about how Timberly used my inability to say no against Gerald. Frankly, I couldn't say if I'd be a good brother or not. But I did do things for Timberly that Gerald wouldn't usually do.
"He doesn't want to take you and your preteen friends to the mall," Gerald argued with a bit more conviction as he finally rolled over. He slapped his hands over his eyes, groaning. "We all know Stephanie smells like feet."
"She does not! Come on, please! I already promised Myra and Stephanie we'd have a ride!" she pleaded, and I could tell she was getting desperate from the look on her face. She jutted her bony hip out to the side, pouting the best she knew how.
"I'll take you to the mall, Timberly," I sighed, throwing back the sleeping bag. I rubbed my hand across my face, but I couldn't justify shaving just to take a couple of kids to the mall.
"Oh my gosh, thanks so much Arnold! You're awesome!" she squealed, running forward to give me a quick hug before running out the door, her fingers tapping on her phone rapidly.
"Let her take the bus. We took the bus!" Gerald grumbled, throwing the blanket over his head.
"No big deal," I sighed, letting my yawn out. "I should be heading home soon anyway, I've got a paper to finish. And I need to pick up that book for Mr. Simmons's class anyway."
Gerald's hand shot out from under the covers, pointing at his discarded jeans from the night before. "Me too," I heard him mumble.
I rolled my eyes, pulling his jeans over and extracting his wallet from the pocket. I pulled out a twenty dollar bill, shoving it into the pocket of my own (which I still had on from the day before). I'd taken a change of clothes to the beach, which I'd put on when we got to Gerald's instead. I'd just stayed over, since it was a Saturday night and everyone else was more than likely still at the beach and that left little option of going out. I grabbed my shirt from the floor, slipping it over my head. I grabbed the comb from his dresser, jerking it through my hair. "Thanks for letting me crash on your floor. I'll see you later, man."
Gerald's hand shot from the blanket once more, giving me thumbs up. I responded with my own thumbs up fist, and we quickly did out old handshake before I headed out the door. I made a quick stop in the bathroom, pulling my ziplock bag from the back of the drawer on the right. It had my name on it, and I'd left here ages ago because who wants to carry a toothbrush and toothpaste around? I quickly rushed to finish up my shortened morning routine, putting my things back in the drawer before heading down the stairs.
"Timberly, are you ready?" I called, pulling my truck keys out of my pocket. I hoped she remembered I didn't have some awesome sports car, and her and her friends would have to be pretty close.
"Coming!" She called back, and I turned to find three girls clomping down the stairs, giggling. She certainly hadn't wasted any time collecting them; I'd only agreed to take her about ten minutes ago.
"That was fast," I commented, raising my brow as they came to the door.
"Oh, we had a sleepover,"Timberly explained, waving her hand as though it were obvious. Her friends looked at me in awe, and I found myself feeling awkward as they stared.
"So, you're Stephanie and Myra?" I asked, trying to find some way to break the stares as I opened the door.
"I'm Stephanie," said the slightly larger girl on Timberly's right, the one with the short cut brown hair. "And that's Myra." She gestured to the shortest of the three, who happened to be a rather pretty blond. "She's the baby of the group."
"Until next month!" Myra retorted, frowning. "Then we'll all be fourteen."
"Hey, I know you!" Stephanie interrupted, realization dawning on her face. "You're in my lunch period," she said excitedly as the three of them crawled into the cab. A slight scuffle ensued, but the seating arrangement made sure that Timberly was closest to me, with Stephanie in the middle, and Myra on the outside. "You sit with Gerald."
I nodded as I turned the key in the ignition, pulling my truck out into the road. "Yep, that's me," I replied lamely, feeling lame. I didn't even know how to hold conversations with fourteen year old girls. I was pretty pathetic.
"Are you dating anyone?" she asked curiously, and I glanced over to find her trying to give me what I assumed was meant to be a seductive glance. It kind of looked like she was trying not fall asleep to be honest.
"Um, no, I'm not," I replied, chuckling slightly.
"Oh, well I thought you might be. I've seen you with that girl, what's her name? The really tall one. You guys look cute together."'
She must have meant Lila. I kind of smiled, thinking how girls paid attention to weird things like that. "You mean Li-?" I started to say, only to find my sentence cut short as Myra piped up with "You mean Helga right?" Can you spit take on air? I think it's possible to spit take on air.
"The blonde one?" Stephanie was saying, and Myra nodded as she picked at her nails.
"Yeah, I think her names Helga. She's in debate class with me. She's really scary," Myra explained, shrugging.
"That's the one, then!" Stephanie replied, nodding in a resolute manner. "She has second lunch too. I meant her. So do you like her?" All three girls locked their attention on me, eyes wide. I felt my face grow warm under their gaze.
"No, she's just my friend-!"
"Like a girlfriend?"
"No, like a regular friend," I corrected.
"But do you like you?" "Do you want to be more than friends?" "I think she likes you!"
"All you little nosy girls, out of my truck!" I called over the chatter, stopping the truck in front of the mall for them to get out. Their giggling hurt my ears as they scrambled out the door.
I reached out to pull the door shut when Stephanie popped her head back in, pen in hand. She scribbled a few numbers on my exposed wrist before saying with wink, "I'm single too, you know. And you're really cute."
"Um…thanks?" I replied, watching as she ran back over to the other girls, erupting in more giggles. I shook my head, looking for a parking spot. The irony of this was sickening.
The bookstore wasn't particularly busy, which was to be expected on a Sunday. I pulled my phone out to open the picture I had taken of the book we needed. I actually was kind of hoping Helga might text me to let me know she was over being mad at me, but no such luck. I sighed. She didn't need to be mad at me over something like that. Maybe I could just casually text her and ask if she needed me to pick up the book for her as well since I was already here. I mean, that wasn't pushing any boundaries was it? A friendly gesture was all. If she didn't answer, I would take that a sign she was still upset with me. If she did answer, then I could casually slip into asking if she was. Either way, it was okay, right?
"You need me to pick up a copy of "The Writer's Lab" for you? I'm getting a copy for myself and Gerald, so I can pick you up one while I'm here," I punched in, my thumb hovering over the send button. Okay, that seemed simple enough. I took a breath, hitting the send button before completely chickening out and shoving my phone in my pocket, not wanting to have to wait around for an answer. I'd just go ahead and search for the book and check when I found it. It took a bit of searching, but I finally found the section of the store where my book was. I was slightly surprised to see such a large amount of the book, but then I realized Mr. Simmons would have made sure there were enough for all of us to get. He'd explained last week he'd wanted to purchase the books through the school, but his request had been denied since the book would be given to each of us to write in as we pleased. We had until the end of the semester to work through at least five prompts in the book, which would be turned in as part of our final class project. I sighed. Hard to believe that I only had a little over a month left until I was a senior, and just a handful of months till I was eighteen. I shook my head, pulling two copies of the book from the shelf and flipping through them. I took a breath, pulling my phone from my pocket to see if I'd gained any texts since then. I frowned. Nothing new. Okay, so she was still upset with me. Either way, I picked up an extra copy of the book, making my way to the register.
"Junior, huh?" said the cashier as I dropped the books down.
"How'd you guess?" I said with a grin, pulling my wallet from my pocket.
"I know this is on you guys reading list," she replied, bagging my books for me and taking my extended bills. "So, you're a writer?"
"I'm really bad at it," I confessed, shaking my head. "I never know what to write."
"Want some advice?" she said, flashing me a smile as she held my bag out to me.
"Sure?" I asked curiously, taking the bag from her hand.
"First thing! 'The beautiful part of writing is you don't have to get it right the first time, unlike, say, a brain surgeon. You can always do better, find the exact word, the apt phrase, the learning smile.' That's Robert Cormier. And the second piece of advice. 'The answer to all writing, to any career for that matter, is love.' Ray Bradbury said that."
"Thanks," I replied, eyes wide. "That's impressive advice…."
"Literature major," she replied with a shrug. "Good luck on your assignment."
"I'll do my best," I assured her, heading toward the door. Though I had no idea what that might consist of.
I put the finishes touches on my paper a few hours later, licking the sticky frosting from my fingers. I'd filched a cupcake from the kitchen, along with some soda. Sugar rushes were great for papers. I clicked the save button, then the print icon. I could hear my printer whir to life, and I made a mental note to get the paper off it in the morning. I closed my laptop, heading over to my couch to turn on the tv. Maybe I could find something good on to capture the rest of my attention.
I awoke to the sound of my phone buzzing in circles on the floor. I wasn't sure when I'd fallen asleep, but the clock across the room read 11:24. My neck was stiff from my position on the couch, and I groaned as it made a popping noise. I felt around the floor for my phone, groggily answering it.
"'ello?"
"What, you don't even have the decency to apologize to me?" The sound of her voice shocked me from my stupor.
"What? Apologize for what?" I asked, confused. I leaned over, resting my elbows on my knees.
"Apologize for what?! Apologize for WHAT!?" she shrieked, making me hold the phone away from my ear, flinching. "For what you said to me yesterday, you numbskull!"
"What did I even say?" I snapped back in exasperation.
"Oh come on it, you know what you said!"
"Humor me and let's pretend I really don't remember," I said a bit harshly, pushing myself up from the couch.
"About not wanting to kiss me," she said as though it were obvious. I pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger, trying not to laugh at her.
"That's why you called me at 11:30? Because of that?"
"Yes, because of that!" I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard the knocking on my window. I dropped the phone, rushing over to throw it open.
"What are you doing on my fire escape at 11:30?" I managed after a moment of surprise.
"Get out of my way," she grumbled, flipping her phone shut and crawling through the window.
"Do you not do anything halfway?" I said in disbelief, watching as she paced around the room.
"Shut up. Why'd you say that to me?" she snapped, continuing her pacing.
"Because I didn't think it was a big deal," I tried to explain, shaking my head. I was so confused.
"How was that not a big deal? It wouldn't bother you to have a girl tell you the last thing she would want would be to kiss you?" She poked me square in the chest, glaring. She took a step back, looking down at her hands. "What, am I really that unattractive?" she said softly.
Okay, so I could see where she was coming from. Maybe I'd been a little rude with my words the other day. "Helga you know that's not what I meant," I said honestly, shrugging my shoulders. "Of course I think you're attractive." Honestly, I did. I'm sure had to know she was beautiful. Didn't she know? "Wait," I began, shaking my head to make sense. "Is this about you not thinking you're pretty?" She turned away from me so suddenly I knew I must have hit the true root of the situation. "Let me see if I've got this right. You crawled through my fire escape in the middle of the night to yell at me because you were afraid I didn't think you were pretty?" I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "You are unbelievable, did you know that?"
"It's not funny!" she growled, crossing her arms over her chest and going to huddle on my couch. I went and sat down next to her, looking over at her.
"I don't know who told you weren't pretty, or why you think you aren't, but know this: You are a beautiful girl, and you don't even have to try. We as humans have insecurities, but let me assure you, that doesn't need to be one of yours," I said gently, reaching out softly to rest my hand on her shoulder. I felt her tense a bit under my touch, but I kept my hand in place. I wanted her to know I wasn't going to hurt her, and she didn't have to be scared of me. She finally looked up at me, and I could see the wet streaks down her face. I furrowed my brow, confused. "Is that really what this was all about? Is it something else?"
"Everyone else has it easy, you know," she mumbled, resting her chin on her knees. "Even if they feel bad at school or something, they can go home and know that someone loves them and that with their family, they're special. They're loved and important and wanted. I," her voice cracked, but she swallowed it down. "I wish I knew what it felt like to be wanted somewhere."
I knew I should have words of wisdom and advice for her, but sometimes words aren't what is needed. I couldn't think of anything to do other than allow her to fall into arms, trying to pretend like I didn't know she was crying on my shirt. I rested my chin on her head, trying to think of something to tell her that would make this okay. But what was I to do? Who was I to tear her family down in front of her? I didn't know them personally, but bruises on her arms where enough to make me dislike her father as much as I had when I heard him yell at her weeks ago.
"Helga, be honest with me here. He hits you, doesn't he?" I felt her nod against my chest, and I asked my next question with an acrid taste in my mouth. "You didn't come here about what I said on its own, did you? You came because he hit you, didn't he?" Her lack of answer was all I needed to clench my eyes shut, and I slowly wrapped my arms around her. "What does your mother do? Where is she?" I heard her mutter the word drunk, and I gritted my teeth together. "You don't have to be there when he gets that way. You don't have to go to him when he calls. Lock your door, or leave, I don't care, but you do not go to him when he calls you. And you need to do something with your mother. You are her daughter, and she need to step up and be a mother. God knows she can't do that if she drowns herself like that. You know, obviously, that you can come to me anytime. But please come before it starts. Leave before it starts," I babbled, my words not making sense as I tightened my grip on her. I almost expected her to pull away from me, as she so often did when things got to close for comfort, but she surprised me by burrowing deeper into my shirt. Anybody who could reduce her to this state deserved – well, I couldn't think of a punishment good enough to warrant such a crime.
"I got you a copy of the book today, you know," I commented, trying to say something I hoped might help her to calm down.
"Did you buy Lila a copy?" she snapped, sitting up and wiping her eyes on her arm.
"No, why?"
"God you're an idiot."