Why was she feeling this way about him suddenly? One dream and she was now head over feet. She hated this feeling. She hated the lack of control over her own emotions. She didn't want to love Bob. She always had loved him as a best friend loves another, but now... all these other senses of the term were being wagered in. And as she stared at him, sleeping so soundly with his face turned toward her, she couldn't help but smile at how beautiful he was.
"Can't sleep?" he asked, startling her.
"No." she admitted, looking away. "How long have you been awake?" she asked skeptically.
"A while." he replied. "It's kinda hard to sleep with someone staring at you."
Her face grew hot. "Sorry." she said, rolling over.
"S'okay." he assured her, opening his eyes.
"But I mean, it's either you or Pam." she joked, pointing to the picture of a naked Pamela Anderson, covering her privates with had arms; an upgrade from the bikini poster.
"I'd choose Pam over me any day." Bob grinned. "Definitely."
Timber rolled her eyes.
"I'll take it down if it bugs you." Bob said, getting up and crossing the room in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.
"You don't have to Bob, it's fine." she objected.
"No, I should take it down." he insisted, thinking about Carmen being in his room and what her reaction might be.
Timber sighed, watching him take the thumb tacks out of the corners and pull the poster down. He rolled it up and handed it to her.
"Gee... thanks..." she said dryly, shoving it under the bed.
"So whatdaya wanna do?" Bob asked, flopping onto the bed and jouncing the mattress.
Timber shrugged. "I dunno."
Bob leaned over her to look at his bedside clock. "It's four." he said. "We might as well just not go to sleep at all."
"Yeah." she grinned. "Too bad Carmen couldn't join us. Then we would get to mess her up with toothpaste."
Bob shifted uncomfortably. "Carmen isn't my best friend." he said. "Carmen doesn't get to come. It's Bob and Timber time."
Yeah, but Carmen gets to suck on your tongue. Timber thought to herself snidely, then shook are visible signs of her annoyance off her face.
"Wanna watch a movie?" he asked. "We can watch The Sixth Sense and cling to each other with fear under a blanket!" he joked, getting up to put on some pants.
"Yeah!" Timber agreed. "Then I can bludgeon you with my fists and call you a big fat baby while you cry about being scared."
Bob narrowed his eyes at her. "Then I can throw popcorn at you while you whine about not wanting to get up and go to the bathroom alone because the house is scary and you might see dead people." he shot back.
"You get the popcorn and I'll bring the blanket." Timber smiled.
* * *
Clint sighed wistfully as the pleasure of a morning piss engulfed him. He had barely slept the night before, ideas of how to make himself sick were flooding his mind. He would take any excuse to go back and get another physical from Dr. Gellar. The blood sample part was the only downside, and when trying to decide whether or not it was worth it, he came to the conclusion that it was. MAYBE.
Rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, he sighed, thinking about his highlights. His hair was a bit shaggier then, he had decided he was going to grow it out. Dave hadn't gotten than much of a change either. He had gotten a trim. Bob, however, had hacked off a good five or so inches, gotten it layered, and highlighted. It looked good in Clint's opinion. Scott's hair looked even better. He had cut it slightly shorter and choppily layered and it was all one color now, thank the Lord. Needless to say, the boys all had a new look.
"I'm. Too sexy for my shirt. Too sexy for my shirt, so sexy yeah it hurts!!" Clint sang, wiping the steam off the mirror with his hand. "And I'm. Too sexy for Milan. Too sexy for Milan, New York and Japan! And I'm. Too sexy for your party. Too sexy for your party, there's no way I'm disco dancing!" he swayed his hips, running a hair-gel-ladden comb through his hair. "I'm a model, you know what I mean. And I do my little turn on the catwalk. On the catwalk, yeah, on the catwalk. And I do my little turn on the catwalk." he spun around, tossing the comb up so it flipped in the air, then running it once more through his hair after catching it evenly. "I'm too sexy for my car. Too sexy for my car, too sexy by far. And I'm, too sexy for my hat..." he winked at himself in the mirror. "Too sexy for my hat, whatcha think about that?" he thrusts his pelvis to the left then to the right, nearly loosing the towel that was secured around his waist. "Cause I'm a model, you know what I mean. And I do my little turn on the catwalk. On the catwalk, yeah, on the catwalk. And I shake my little touche on the catwalk!" he shook his backside, looking over his shoulder to see it in the mirror. "I'm, too sexy for my cat. Too sexy for my cat; poor pussy, poor pussy cat! I'm too sexy for my love. Too sexy for my love, love's going to leave me..."
Clint lowered his voice as he walked out into the hallway for his bedroom. He sighed loudly. "I'm too sexy for Dr. Gellar, too sexy for Dr. Gellar, but I'll still jump her bones anyway!"
* * *
"Hey sexy." Timber greeted Clint as he strolled into the living room wearing a white tee-shirt and dark jeans.
Clint blushed. Timber grinned at him.
"How long have you guys been up?" Clint asked, sitting down on the couch next to one of his best friends.
"We never really went to bed." Bob replied, yawning as he lay back on the couch and stretched his legs across Timber and Clint's laps.
"Eeew, Bob! I showered already! Get those nasty things off me!" his twin whined.
"I'm going to shower." Timber announced, pushing Bob's feet off her legs and heading upstairs. "I can't stand to wallow in a days worth of filth."
"Thanks for the description!" Bob laughed, closing his eyes.
"Maybe you should shower too Bob!" Clint exclaimed. "It's been what? Two, three weeks?"
"I showered yesterday ass." Bob informed his brother. "And why would I want to shower, I want to be dirty and get you all dirty when I hug you!" he laughed, sitting up and wrapping his arms around his slightly older brother. "Ever heard of twin to twin transfusion? Well I'm passing all my dirtiness to you!" he laughed.
"Get off me!" Clint whined. "You're so gross Bob!"
"Oooh, get some of the armpit!" Bob laughed, thrusting his armpit at his brother. "Rub it all up in there!" he laughed as Clint tried to resist.
"EEEEW!!!" Clint screamed. "That's so disgusting!"
"What the hell are you two doing?" Scott asked, sashaying into the room.
"Have you showered yet this morning?" Bob asked as if it were the most important question in the world.
"Does it look like I showered this morning?" Scott demanded, holding his arms out to display his body. He was still in his boxers that he had worn to bed, and his hair was sticking in all directions.
"Then hop on and help me!" Bob exclaimed.
"NO!!!" Clint screamed, his voice muffled under Bob's assailing body.
"What're you doing?" Scott asked curiously.
"We're killing Clint with B.O.!"
"Help me Scott!!" Clint whimpered.
Scott grinned and took a running start before diving onto Clint.
The telephone rang from the table by the sofa.
"I'll get it!" Clint said, hoping his brothers would get off of him.
"Hell no!" Bob said, reaching over and grabbing the phone. "Hello?"
"Bob?"
"Ben Jammin'!" Bob exclaimed, his energy level through the roof by then. "What's happenin'?"
"Party. Tonight. My house. Be there." his friend replied.
"Party? Awesome!" Bob said, putting his armpit back in Clint's face.
"PARTY?!" Scott asked, looking up.
"Party." Ben said, grinning from his end of the phone. "And tell Timber if she's over there. I called her house and she wasn't home."
"Yeah, she's here. I'll tell her." Bob said.
"And guys, the theme is Tropical, so bring your swim suits." Ben added.
"Tropical?" Bob asked. "It's November."
"It snowed last night. Just wear a suit." his friend said. "See you at eight, don't be late." he hung up.
"Bye." Bob said to the dial tone, then placed the phone back on the receiver. "PARTY!!!!" he exclaimed.
* * *
"I want BOOOOOBS!!" Timber screamed, chucking the bikini top across the room. "How come I don't fit any of these Goddamned tops!" she screamed again.
"Calm down Timber!" Carmen coaxed from her spot on the bed.
"Oh Shut up! You have boobs! You fill out your tops! You have the nice body! I have nothing! I am as flat as the fucking wall!" the other girl seethed. "And the guys'll be here any minute!"
"In ten minutes." Carmen corrected. "You still have time!"
"Time I may have, but boobs I do not!" Timber pointed out.
Carmen was clad in a black mini skirt and a pink string bikini top. She had a flowered lei around her neck. Timber was still bustling about her bedroom in a pair of black petal pushers and no top. She had just chucked her red hibiscus print top into the closet.
"Put the red tank top on. That looks cute, wear that." Carmen tried to be of some help.
Timber glared at her. "Why don't I just buy a padded top next time!" she screamed. "You get to have everything." she muttered, tearing through her closet. You get Bob.
"Wear that top!" Carmen exclaimed.
"No Carm, you're messin' up again." she said with a sarcastic tone. "That one makes me look like my boobs push in! ARGHH!!!" Timber snapped, grabbing locks of her hair and pulling.
"Where a dress." Carmen suggested.
"Or a moo-moo." Timber said sarcastically.
"That could work." Carmen said.
Timber turned to glare at her. The doorbell echoed through the house.
"I'll get that." Carmen said with a sigh.
"Thanks." Timber muttered wryly. She continued to look in her closet.
A few moments later, her bedroom door opened.
"God Carmen! Help me!!!" Timber whined, turning around to see her friend had brought Bob with her.
Bob covered his eyes politely and Timber's arms shot over her bare chest.
"Sorry, I'll leave." Bob said.
"No Bob, we need your help!" Carmen pleaded.
"Carmen!" Timber exclaimed, turning her back to the both of them and pulling a tee-shirt over her head.
"Is it safe?" Bob asked.
"Yes." Timber replied, embarrassed beyond belief.
"Can I..." he pointed to her closet.
"Sure, why not?" Timber mumbled, sitting on her bed.
"We need Clint." Bob said with a sigh.
"CLINT!!!" Carmen called from the doorway.
"Well there goes my hearing." Timber said, rolling her eyes.
Clint was in the room within seconds of hearing his name.
"Fashion emergency." Bob said, music to his twin's ears.
"The best kind." Clint smiled.
"She's looking for something that makes her look less flat." Carmen explained.
"Carmen!" Timber exclaimed, her face growing hot.
"You talk about your boobs all the time Tim; I'm sure they're used to it."
"Okay. I got it." Clint said with a grin, displaying a button down shirt and a pair of short shorts. "Sophisticated, but fun." he smiled.
"You sound like Ricky." Bob smirked.
"Oh yeah, I'll just have my ass hangin' out all night." Timber shot the outfit down.
"And her legs." Bob added.
"Oh yeah. Her legs." Clint nodded.
Carmen just clicked her tongue.
"What about my legs?" Timber demanded, irritated already.
"Bagawk! Bagawk!" Clint said, replacing the two items in the closet.
"What does that mean?" Timber demanded.
"Chicken legs!" Bob laughed.
"Okay, you can wear the pedal pushers, but with... a tankini top?" he suggested.
"Are you sure my legs aren't too chicken for that one too?" Timber demanded under her breath.
"I told her to wear the red one." Carmen sighed.
"No, the pale green." Clint insisted. "That tones down the black and makes it look more summery."
Bob leaned back against the dresser with a raised eyebrow. "You scare me Clint."
"What? Fashion is fashion!" Clint insisted. "Where the button down and tie it." he finally insisted.
"Yeah, that'd look cute." Bob agreed sincerely.
Timber smiled to herself. He said I'd look cute. she thought with a grin.
"HEY!!! LET'S GO!!" Scott shouted from the bottom of the steps.
Timber rolled her eyes and went into the bathroom to change. She would never be able to describe the feeling she got when she came back out and Bob looked her up and down with a smile. He told her she looked great. She actually felt it this time.
* * *
"Hey! Dudes! What is up?!" Ben exclaimed upon seeing his friends enter his already crowded house. It was obvious that he had been drinking.
"Ben, have you been drinking?" Jeanine asked.
Ben put a finger to his chin, as if pondering this question. "Hell, I'm so drunk I don't remember!" he announced, getting caught up in a train of people.
Timber rolled her eyes and stomped into the kitchen. She wasn't having a good time. She would never be able to have a good time again. All she could think about was Bob. All she could think about was her best friend. It wasn't supposed to be that way. She snatched a plastic cup off the counter and ladled it into a large bowl of an unknown substance, most likely something alcoholic.
"Tim!" Bob called upon finding her. "I was looking for you."
She quickly swallowed the contents of the cup in what seemed like one gulp before turning to face him. Seeing his face, she begged for the alcohol to get into her system as quickly as possible.
"What's up?" he asked.
"Same thing that was up five minutes ago when we were walking up the steps." she replied, ladling more of the wine cooler into her cup.
"Somebody's in a bad mood." her best friend grinned, resting his elbows on the counter top.
"Well introduce me to them because I bet my mood's worse." she replied, chugging yet another cup.
"Go easy on the booze Tim. We've only been here for all of what? Two minutes?" he advised.
Go easy on Carmen's tonsils, they don't grow back you know. She thought fiercely in her head.
"What's the matter Tim?" Bob asked.
"Nothing."
"Something's up."
"Nothing's up." Except your dick every time you see that slut of a best friend Carmen.
"Is something bothering you?"
"Besides you, no." she replied coldly.
Bob stepped back. "Sorry for caring."
"I'm sorry too."
He turned to leave. "Whatever Timber. You go ahead and have your PMS." he said over his shoulder.
"That was two weeks ago!" she shouted after him.
He spun around. "Then why are you mad at me?"
She was shocked. He thought she was mad at him! She wasn't mad at him, it was just the opposite.
"I'm not mad." she said, choking on the emotions that welled in her throat.
He re-approached her, this time standing closer. There was a very small height difference between the two, but at that moment, he towered over her. She felt so small compared to Carmen. She felt so small compared to herself.
"Smile." he said. "Just smile."
She looked into his dark eyes. She couldn't. He wasn't going to make her.
"I can't stand to see you frown. Just smile." he pleaded.
He had won her over. She smiled. He smiled. He hugged her. Her stomach flip-flopped.
"I'm going out back." he informed her, his hand still holding hers. This was a gesture that had never held much meaning; they held hands all the time, but suddenly, she was nervous. "You coming?" he asked.
She looked towards the screen door. It was snowing lightly, only a thin layer covered the grass, but teens were running amok in bikinis and wife beaters out in the cold. Then she spotted Carmen, watching from just outside. She pulled back, hard.
"Naw, I'm going to stay here." she replied, knowing who he wanted to be with. He liked her, she liked him. Maybe they would end up together. If they did, it was only meant to be. Who was she kidding. She didn't know what she'd do if Bob and Carmen became and item.
"Okay." he said, glancing out and seeing Carmen too.
Bob dropped Timber's hand and went to the door, not looking back.
This is the way it has to be... Timber told herself.
* * *
Seven glasses of the 'mystery juice' later, and she was still wallowing in her own self pity and confusion.
"Hey."
Timber turned around to see a tall brunette standing behind her. "Want one?" he asked, holding out a pack of cigarettes.
"Malboro?" she asked, not able to see the label in her double visionary land.
"Nothing but." he replied proudly.
She took one. "Thanks."
He lit the end for her and she took a drag. She had never been able to smoke; of course she had tried it a few times just for the buzz. She thought is was a disgusting habit, which didn't explain why she was lighting up with a stranger.
"My name's Serge." he said, sitting at the bar stool beside her.
"French?" she asked.
"Very." he replied.
"Well then. Je m'appelle Timber. Comment allez-vous?" she asked, never realizing that she wasn't inhaling.
"Don't speak a word." he said with a grin.
"Oh." she laughed, lightheaded beyond belief.
"What's on your mind, you look like someone who's got alotta troubles." he said.
She shrugged. "Stuff." was her only reply.
"Care to share? I'm a good listener."
"Well... since you gave me a cig..." she trailed off.
Serge laughed. "Big smoker?" he asked.
"Nope." she replied, pretending to take another drag.
"Big drinker?" her asked.
"Enormous." she replied with a laugh that almost sent her off her stool.
"So tell me Timber, the enormous drinker, what's got you so troubled?" Serge asked, grabbing her elbow to steady her.
"Okay, this is very complicated." she said, leaning forward, but her elbow missing the surface of the countertop and sending her on her face. "Whoa, that came outta nowhere..." she muttered, sitting back up. "So you see, I woke up in love with my best friend." she said.
Serge waited for her to finish. "That's it?" he asked.
"It was longer in my head..." she trailed off. "Oh! Wait! He likes another girl and would never want to be with a girl like me because I don't have boobs and I will never be as pretty as this giiirl. Hell, who am I kidding, I'll never be pretty. And we're best friends, so that kinda makes him off limits. But why am I in love with him now? What the hell is love anyway? I had a dream about this guy! Then I wake up and my subconscious screams that I love him!!! This is all too much. I'm not mature enough for this."
Serge laughed as she took a much-needed breath. "You know Timber... the subconscious never lies. The subconscious is a window to your innermost thoughts. Your consciousness can lie and your consciousness can confuse you. It's your consciousness that is making you feel confused. Your subconscious has had it all figured out from the second you met this guy. Your subconsciousness knows what your heart knows."
Timber's jaw dropped. "Whoa." she said, resting her heavy head on the counter top.
Serge nodded. "Yeah. Whoa is right." he accorded. "Now, once your consciousness stops trying to live in denial, you'll become clear on what your heart already knew."
"Now all I have to do is figure out what to do with this new information." she trailed off.
"One more word on wisdom before I make like a tree and leave: 'It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return. But what is more painful is to love someone and never find the courage to let that person know how you feel.'"
Timber closed her eyes, breathing in his information. Even in her altered state of mind, she still knew what he was saying. She still knew that he was right. She needed to grow the balls to tell Bob. Two days and she was already dying inside; or had she been all along? She had to know.
When she opened her eyes, Serge was gone.
"Oh God!" she screamed, tears pouring down her cheeks. "I hate this!"
Suddenly two arms were around her shoulders. "Timber! What's the matter sweetie? Tell me! What's wrong?"
"Just go away!" she wailed, struggling to be released. "Just leave!"
She got down off the stool and began to careen to all possible sides. The world was spinning. She tried to walk, but her legs would barely stand. She clutched the counter and tried to make her way to the living room.
"Timber, stop, just calm down honey, you're crying really hard, why are you crying?"
She pushed the persistent arms away. "Just go! I can't be hurt anymore! Just leave me alone! God!!! He hates me! I love him so much, but he hates me!" she whimpered.
"Timber, who are you talking about?"
She spun around, nearly collapsing. For a second, she saw him. Her eyes closed as more tears ran down her face. When they opened again, he was gone. The only person standing in front of her was Scott. A surprisingly sober Scott.
"Baby, you've had way too much to drink." he informed her as she allowed him to hold her.
"He hates me Scott!!! He hates me." she sobbed. "I love him so much! I just realized it Scott, I love him the way you love Amelia!"
Scott laughed. "It's Angela." he corrected.
"I'm so stupid!" she screamed. "That's why he hates me! He loves her instead!"
"Who're we talking about?" Scott asked gently, stroking her hair.
"He hates me... he hates me... he loves her... I love him..." she trailed off, rocking back and forth gently in Scott's strong arms.
"An hour into the party and you're already blasted." Scott grinned. "And they call me the drunk of the group."
She pulled back. "AGHHHH!!!!" she screamed, trying to walk, but collapsing to the floor. "He hates me!!!" she sobbed.
Scott sank to the floor beside her. "Baby, calm down." he coaxed. "I'm going to take you upstairs to lie down for a while."
"NO!!!" she screamed, the tears for profuse. "I don't want to! I just want to sit here! I need another drink! He hates me Scott! I have nothing else left to my life! He hates me and I love him so much!!!"
"Yeah... okay..." Scott trailed off, hoisting her thin frame up and flinging her over his shoulder. He carried her for the steps.
"He HATES ME!!!" she screamed, pummeling his back with her fists. "I LOVE HIM SO MUCH SCOTT!!!! BUT HE HATES ME!!!"
She continued to scream as Scott carried her into a room that wasn't occupied by a couple making out or having sex. It was Ben's bedroom. He flung her to the bed. By then she was just screaming at the top of her lungs like she was being attacked.
"Tim, calm down! They're going to think I'm raping you up here." Scott said, sitting beside her. "I've never seen more of a belligerent drunk in my life."
"He hates me Scott..." she pleaded, hyperventilating.
"Calm down baby, breathe." he coaxed, stroking her hair back from her face.
"I just want him to love me Scott... that's all I want! That's all my subconscious ever wanted." she whined, raising her head to rest in his lap.
"Shhhh, honey, shhhh." Scott said softly. "It's going to be okay. If love is going to happen, it will."
"But I love him so much Scott..." she whined, fidgeting uncomfortably with all the pent up energy.
"Love... who?" he asked.
She looked into his eyes. "I can't tell you." she replied, rolling over. She was finally still.
Scott was silent for a moment.
"Go back to the party, I'll be fine." she said softly.
"Timber, I don't want anyone to come in here while I'm gone." Scott said. "I'm going to stay until you fall asleep, then I'm going to lock the door because I’m going to go get Bob."
She lay supine, staring at the ceiling. She kept seeing his face, over and over again.
"Lie on your stomach please." Scott said, helping her turn over.
"I can't sleep on my tummy." She argued.
"Well you're going to have to." he advised her.
Timber reluctantly turned over. "I hate this." she muttered. "He loves her and not me..."
"Shhh..." Scott cooed. He began to sing softly to her, lulling her to sleep.
* * *
His roving hands, the throbbing music, her soft skin. Her lips, her tongue, her stomach... she was beautiful, she was his. His tongue explored her teeth, the walls of her mouth, her tongue. They fit so perfectly together. This rapturous state could never be altered.
"Bob..." Scott called crossly upon seeing his brother on top of some girl on the couch.
"What?" Bob demanded distractedly.
"BOB!" Scott exclaimed.
Bob detached his lips from Carmen's. "What?" he demanded.
"Carmen?" Scott exclaimed.
"Hi Scott." she said innocently, waving.
"Wait... are you two..." he trailed off, and suddenly it became clear to him.
"Please don't tell Timber." Bob pleaded, getting off of Carmen so she could breathe.
"I won't." Scott said blandly. She already knows...
"Thanks Scott." Carmen said, sitting up and fixing her bikini top.
"Yeah..." Scott trailed off. He had always been one to enjoy wallowing in conflict, but suddenly, he didn't want to lie to his friends and his brother. But it wasn't his place to tell... "I've been looking for you since ten o'clock!" he exclaimed.
"It's one-thirty Scott, how the hell did it take you three and a half hours to find me?" Bob demanded.
"Well..." Carmen trailed off. "The laundry room..." she reminded him.
Bob grinned at the memory. "What's up?" he asked his brother.
"Timber." Scott said, watching a glimmer of fear appear in his brothers eyes.
"What's wrong?" Bob asked.
"She's out cold in Ben's room and has been for hours."
"What? What---what happened to her?" Bob asked, getting up and already heading for the stairs.
"Bob, calm down." Scott advised, grabbing his brother's arm. "Now don't get on my nerves because it's five hours into this party and I haven't gotten drunk or made out with my girl yet. So I'm not going to have you getting all hysterical on me like she did. I have the bruises on my back to show for it."
"What happened?!" Bob demanded. "Was she raped? Drugged? Tell me Scott!"
"She had a little too much to drink earlier on Bob." Scott said in a soothing voice. "She was a bit... hysterical..." He decided to leave out what she was saying now that he knew the truth. "...but she's asleep now. I tried to find you because she needs you, but she's okay."
"Ben's room?" Bob asked.
Scott nodded.
Bob took off up the stairs.
"Kids..." Scott trailed off, shaking his head with pity as he headed for the kitchen. "Ahhh... alcohol... like music to my ears." he sighed, going straight to the kitchen table where the minimal supply of booze was located.
There wasn't much left, only a little bit in the keg and some ginger flavored Brandy that no one wanted to drink. Scott took the brandy and unscrewed the cap, putting it to his lips. He paused. Suddenly, getting drunk off his ass wasn't as appealing.
Just at that moment, Angela and Kelly bounced into the kitchen from the living room that was still packed with people.
"Hey baby." Angela said, kissing him on the lips while her hand grabbed the bottle from him.
"Hey." he whined, though he had no interest in drinking.
"Is Timber okay?" Angela asked, screwing the bottle cap back on as a symbol for her not letting him drink.
"Yeah, I guess." Scott replied, fully aware that he wouldn't get his way. "Bob's up with her now." he took the Brandy bottle back. "Baby, come on, I haven't had a drink all night!" he whined. "What kind of party is this if I can't get totally blasted and make and ass of myself?"
"I don't want you drinking Scott." she said firmly. "You can have fun without alcohol... especially not... ginger brandy." she added.
Kelly rolled her eyes. "Five months and you all act like you're married." she said snidely.
Angela kissed her boyfriend again, allowing his tongue to wriggle it's way to her mouth. Behind her back, Scott grabbed the brandy bottle, unscrewing the top. Angela took her mouth from his.
"Don't even think about it." she said, taking it and tossing the bottle in the general direction of the trash can. Luckily it didn't brake when it hit the floor; it just rolled on it's side.
"Awww... come on. Hotty Scotty needs a shotty." he whined.
Angela grinned. "I have something better." she assured him, taking his hand and pulling him towards the laundry room.
"Oh God... you guys are sick." Kelly called after them.
She went back to where the brandy bottle lay and picked it up, opening it and pouring a bit into her mouth, letting it slide down her throat. If Scott couldn't have his alcohol, then she could.
* * *
"Timber..." Bob said softly, peeking into the dark room.
She was crouched in the corner by the wastebasket, trembling.
"Are you okay Tim?" he asked, going to her and seeing that she had thrown up.
"I vomited in my hair." she told him, still gasping for breath.
"I hear you had a bit too much to drink." he said gently.
Her bloodshot eyes met his. She looked away and vomited again. All that came out was a clear fluid seeing as she hadn't eaten anything that day except for one of Sheila's signature pancakes. Bob ran his hands down her head, collecting the strands of hair that hadn't made it into her messy bun. Her shoulders racked as she vomited, her entire body quaking. It took him a moment to realize that she was crying.
...but what's more painful is to love someone and never have the courage to tell them how you feel...
Timber looked back up into his eyes. "Bob..." she stammered, running the back of her hand over her mouth.
"Yes?" he asked, comforting, stroking her hair.
She started to cry again. He realized that this was the first time he had ever seen her really cry. She never cried, she was a relatively strong person. And he decided at that moment that he hated to see her cry. He felt the tears come to his own eyes as she was so helpless and vulnerable. He hugged her to his chest.
"No, I reek of vomit..." she protested.
"I don't care." he whispered, noticing she didn't smell of vomit, she smelled of her peach body wash.
"Will you stay with me Bob...please?" she begged, sobbing into the front of his shirt.
"Shhh... I'll stay with you all night." he whispered, stroking her hair again as he rocked her in his arms.
And so they sat, in the corner of Ben's room. He rocked her gently, and she cried into his shirt front. She cried because he was what she could never have. He would always be her best friend, and for as long as he was her best friend, they would never be able to be anything more. She cried because he loved another and she'd be forced to share him. He would never be just hers. He would never make just her feel as special as he always had. He would now make Carmen feel special. He would tell Carmen all the things on his mind, whether an inane story, or a crisis in the love world, or even how he was lonely and how she made him feel like he had at least one friend. He would tell Carmen what he thought about when he stared off into the distance. Carmen would now be the number one girl in his life, and Timber would always be second best... never anything more.
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