Tell Me How It Feels

Chapter Twenty-Six: Timothy

A/N: It's time for another view switcheroo, staring Timothy. So, y'know, it's from his view this chapter rather than Finlay's :)

Remember that time I said I'll be done by twenty-nine chapters?

No. That's not happening, sorry.

Caysie. x

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Chapter Twenty-Six: Timothy

By the look in Joel's somehow visible eyes, Timothy could see clearly that he was worried. Not just the usual everyday worry neither, this was pure I-don't-know-what-to-say apprehension. And it was a little uncomfortable, to just sit around this tiny table and attempt to communicate without drawing the attention of others. In fact, their failed attempts at speaking probably made the situation even more awkward, for all Timothy wanted to talk about was the little plastic box Finlay had presented previously.

It was a primary thing now, and he couldn't bring himself to think of anything other than the Tic-Tac packaging, he was just frustrated that the matter could not really be discussed.

After Finlay had waltzed back in, seemingly ready to give up his search for Ryan, he had disappeared within a minute. This left Timothy, himself, surrounded by the same atmosphere as it had been before Finlay's return. The awkwardness.

Joel had taken to fiddling his thumbs again, unseen beneath the table surface, which resulted in Timothy having no involvement in any speech and with only others' conversations to listen to.

Jay and Rachel had sat down together before, as soon as Finlay left, already talking about events that had occurred through the day. This continued still, fifteen minutes later.

Derek was resting with his head in his folded arms, which were placed on the table. Judging by his breathing patterns, Timothy was eighty percent sure he had fallen asleep.

Chester and Adelia had somehow came to start playing a game, one that Timothy had played with Joel last year and nearly had his finger hacked off. Adelia was holding a cutlery knife in her left hand and was swiftly stabbing it in the gaps that were between Chester's stretched-out fingers. She alternated in pattern, and kept a steady pace, but the odd time you could hear the rhythm falter and then a brief shot of uneasiness shadowed Chester's bruised face.

"Keep still," she had teased more than once as she furiously plunged this knife into the table, producing a dull thump, and would continue to do so even when Chester told her to fuck off.

It was at this point, when Adelia said it again, that Timothy felt a sudden twang of sympathy for Emily, his own girlfriend. She was supposed to be here today, Hayley had been one of her best friends after all, but she couldn't make it.

Last night when Timothy had visited her, she had received a call from her mother, who lived far up north, informing her that her grandmother was terribly ill. Instead of going to Finlay's like he had planned, he'd stayed with her that night, and helped her make the decision whether to attend the funeral or drive to see her family. In the end, he had advised her to visit her grandmother, just in case the worst should happen.

"Tim," Joel whispered from somewhere behind his hair now, still picking at his thumb with his finger nail.

"Not now, Joel," Timothy replied at regular volume, he wasn't discussing this around other people.

"I wasn't gonna say that," he went on slowly, still with his quietest voice like he was telling a secret.

"Oh, sorry," Timothy lowered his head so he could hear his friend better, feeling a bit guilty for hushing him, "go on then."