Locks Of Love

FOUR

Lance's Point of View

"All my friends are Heathens take it slow. Wait for them to ask you who you know. Please don't make any sudden move. You don't know the half of the abuse," Timber sings out. She has been singing in her room for the past half hour, and I've been sitting on my window seal listening.

"Hey, Tibby!" I call out. Her singing abruptly stops and her face appears in the window across from mine. "I do know the half of the abuse."

Timber's face contorts into confusion. It takes her a moment, but she finally realizes that I was talking about the song.

"When were you ever abused?" she asks, a look of fear dawning across her face.

I try my hardest not to laugh, and fortunately, I didn't. "Look in the mirror, I get abused by you everyday when you hit me for laughing at you. Or you could record yourself, that abuses my ears, too."

"Oh, whatever!" she yells out, grabbing the nearest object in her room and throwing it at me.

"See what I mean!" I yell back, dodging the flying heel. "Why do you have a heel in your room?"

"I am a girl, you know?"

"But a clumsy one at that," I reply, looking at the four inch black heel she threw at me.

"True, that's why I threw that at you and not one of my precious converse," Timber says, a dreamy look crossing her face as she mentions her favorite brand of shoes.

I snort with laughter and grab her window sill, which isn't far from mine. She immediately moves out of the way in show as I climb into her window.

"You're insane!" Timber yells.

"What? I didn't want to go outside, it's raining," I explain, brushing the dust off my pajama bottoms.

"You forgot a shirt," she says, turning around and sitting at her desk.

"Oops. Are you doing homework?"

"No. I finished that in the library during my free period."

"Oh. So, what are you doing then?" I ask, walking over to her desk.

I look at the only paper on her desk which is filled with multiple quadratic equations. Her black pencil lay next to the paper, it's lead almost gone. Timber tends to do math when she's upset, stressed, or couldn't get something off her mind. She hates math, and that's why she does it for those reasons. It helps her get her mind off things because it takes all of her mind to concentrate on it.

"What's on your mind, Tibby?" I ask, looking over at her. The corners of my mouth were tilted downwards in concern as I stare at her intently.

Her face is a deep red, her pale reflection gone. Her curly red hair is tied up into a messy bun, random curls sticking out. Her lip shows a tiny cut, possibly from her biting it too much.

"It's nothing. Just trying not to think about her," Timber whispers, a small, sad smile spread across her lips.

I immediately stand her up and hug her frail body. She's not crying, but I can tell she's hurting.

Timber's sister, Madison, passes away only a few days after I moved into the house next door. Timber became so upset because she believed that it was her fault Madison died. She was 14 whereas Timber was only seven.

It was summer and Madison was leaving the house to go to a party. Timber woke up right before she left and went to her. She asked if she could go with Madison. And when Madison said no, Timber almost went to her parents. Madison made Timber promise not to go to their parents, and fortunately for Madison she didn't.

Madison never came home. Timber had waited and waited, but she never showed up. In the morning, her parents got a call from the police to come comfirm if a body found was their child's. It happened to be Madison and Timber could never forgive herself. She always thought that if only she went to her parents, her sister would be alive.

From that day, when I saw Timber in her front garden crying her eyes out, I vowed to always protect her and be there to comfort her when she cries.

Timber grabs my hand after letting me go and walks me through the halls. I know where we are going. She has brought me here before, every time she has troubles to stop thinking about Madison.

Madison's room was winter themed. It has white walls with detailed light blue and pink snowflakes painted randomly across. Dangling white lights are hanging from the ceiling, glowing to add to the already bright room. Her bed is queen sized with a white backboard. A dark purple comforter with white snowflakes is laid out perfectly on top of the white sheets. All her dressers were light gray along with her desk to stand out from the white walls.

"I've always been jealous of her room. It's so beautiful," Timber says, running her hand along the purple comforter.

She looks so beautiful, even in her baggy clothes. Timber's pale gray eyes turn to me as I stare at her.

"What?" she asks, referring to the staring.

I slowly walk up to her and bring my hand up to her rosy cheek. Her breath slightly hitches in her throat and I can see a light pink adding to her already red cheeks. I bring my other hand up and wipe some chocolate off her upper lip.

"You had some chocolate on your lip," I mutter, my hand still hovering over her cheek.

By now, I'm trying to lean in, and I can notice Timber is leaning forward, too. Our lips are just a centimeter apart, I can feel her warm breath mingling into mine.

"Timber, are you home?" a male voice calls out.

Timber and I jump apart, her landing on the floor due to her clumsiness. I help her up and we exit Madison's room, the door being shut by Timber on the way out.

"I'm up here!" Timber yells back.

I give her a questioning look. She mouths back the word 'father'. My mouth forms an 'o' shape and I run back to Timber's room. There is a drawer for all my stuff, and I throw on one of my shirts. I had meant to do that earlier but Timber's random math distracted me.

"Hello, Mister Black," I say, climbing down the stairs.

"Ah, Lance, How have you been, son?" Timber's father asks me.

"I've been great, sir. How about you?"

"Stressed out lately. Kylie and I have been jam packed at work," he explains. Out of the corner of my eye I see Timber rolling her eyes.

Timber's parents became absent in her life after Madison's death. Their work got busier, or they just stayed in a hotel from working late. Since her parents were never there, I came to her house a lot. It's a lot more peaceful here than being at home with four younger siblings.

"I get you. I've been working lately to help my mother out with the youngsters," I reply.

"Oh, what job interest have you taken interest to?"

"I'm working at Jim's Garage. I help Jim and Mike fix up the cars, they pay me lots of moola."

Timber's dad chuckles and Timber's eyes eyes light up with an emotion that I couldn't wrap my head around.

"Um, dad, what exactly are you doing home?" Timber asks, her face contorting into confusion.

"What, I can't come see my daughter?" he asks in exasperation. Timber slowly shakes her head. "Oh fine. I came to ask for a favor."
"What do you need?"

"I'm going on a business trip with your mom, and we are to bring you and a significant other or something. It is very important that you come. Will you?" Mr. Black asks with a pleading look to Timber.