?LIBIA (Find my confidence)
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Chapter Fourteen.
Ben settled into his seat, looking as if he hadn’t sle-pt in days, and in all reality, he’d sle-pt very little. He was still a little weak, as he recovered from his illness, but he was well enough that they s£nt him home with a bottle of benedrill and an order to sleep.
He didn’t look like he’d have much of a problem following those orders.
Libia had been fuming for the past day and a half. Having had a very firm – albeit angry – discussion with her father, and having him storm out, she wasn’t in the best of moods. She was tired, and the only thing that helped her throu-gh the week was Damon’s text. It wasn’t anything special, really, just a simple:
Hope you’re getting a lot of rest and relaxation, Babe.
But it was just the reminder of his confession to her in the hospital, that made a smile grace herl-ips.
They drove in silence for the first half of the trip, and Libia was un-der the impression that he’d fallen asleep. The car began to heat up, so Libia used the red light as a chance to shrug off her jacket.
She’d almost forgotten about the tattoo that graced her shoulder, so when a g@sp filled the car, Libia glanced at Ben with a raised eyebrow.
“What…is that?” He asked her, horrified, staring at her back.
Libia stared at him for a moment in confusion, before it hit her, and her hand flew to her shoulder. She spluttered, “Well…it’s a…well sort of a-,”
“A tattoo,” He finished, his eyes lifting to hers. “It’s a damn tattoo.”
Laughing weakly, Libia shrugged. “It’s a…tattoo.”
“Where and when did you get it?” He asked, his voice calm. Libia had never seen him like this.
“Ah…I-I got it…a few weeks ago,” She winced, turning her eyes to the road and using the excuse not to look at him as she drove forward.
“You got it…with Damon?” He asked her, and she grimaced.
“Yes,” She squeaked.
He was silent for a moment, before his hand slammed down on the dashboard, causing her to jump, and the car swerved a bit. “Goddammit I knew he was bad news the minute I saw you get off that motorcycle!” He snapped. I opened my mouth to protest, but he kept on. “What else have you done with him? Hmm? Have you done drugs? Did he let you drive his motorcycle? Have you sle-pt with him?”
Libia’s mouth dropped open, and the car jo-lted to a st©p. “Excuse me!” She exclaimed, turning to him. “One, I got a tattoo, not a criminal record! Two, Damon has been nothing but sweet to me! Three, drugs? Are you kidding me Ben? And four, fv¢king sle-pt with him? Before I met him, I couldn’t even meet people’s eyes and you accuse me of fv¢king slee-ping with him?” Her voice raised with each s£ntence, as her face reddened with each stupid accusation.
“You are not going to see him again. This behavior is only going to get worse!” He growled.
“What behavior?!” She yelled, past furious now. “Being happy? Is that really so bad? I’m free, Ben! Do you know how long I’ve wanted this tattoo? Can’t you see-”
“I won’t say it again, Libia! The next time I see him, he’s getting nothing but a decked face from me!” He shouted back.
Libia was furious, hands holding the wheel in a white-knuckled grip. She knew how weak and tired her brother was, but for him to lash out like that over a stupid tattoo was beyond over protective. She tried to lower her voice back to normal volume.
“I’m sorry I got the tattoo without your permission,” She ended up whispering. “But it wasn’t Damon’s decision. He gave me the choice – no, the chance. And I took it,” She looked up at him. “It wasn’t inspired or influenced by him, he was just the one person who openly encouraged me to do it.”
Libia was brou-ght back to the meaning of her tattoo – courage, freedom. This was the reminder that she had to stand up for myself. She wasn’t going to live un-der the protec-tion of her family forever. She didn’t nee-d them to protect her anymore. She had courage.
Ben wasn’t seeing reason, however, as he fumed by her side. They didn’t speak for the rest of the ride. When they arrived home, they silently walked the pathway to the door, Libia too tired and stressed to deal with his obvious anger.
She turned to him as he sat down his bag in the kitchen, her eyes ha-rd on his back.
“I didn’t ask you because it’s not your decision. I’m sorry you don’t approve, but build a bridge and get over it, because I like this tattoo!” With that, she clenched her keys in her hand and turned to the door, muttering, “I’m going to the sto-re to get some things.”
She was tired, but they nee-ded a few goceries for when their mother returned home, and Libia had to cook dinner. Plus she didn’t want to be in the house while Ben built his bridge to get over it.
The drive was quiet, with little to destract her from her thoughts. She knew she shouldn’t have been feeling guilty for speaking to her brother like that, but she was.
When she entered the sto-re, gr-abbing a basket, her thoughts were so muddled that she didn’t notice the person in front of her until her basket rammed into his.
“Umph!” She gr-unted, and then g@sped. “Oh my gosh I’m- Johnson?” Her apology dropped like a sack of bricks.
He ran a hand throu-gh his hair, something Libia would have found cute, if she hadn’t known who the bastard really was. She hadn’t even been paying attention to school drama, her outside life had been so hectic. Johnson had been avoiding her like the plague.
“Libia,” He said, laughing nervously as his eyes flitted behind her…looking for something, or someone.
“Don’t worry,” Libia said with a snort. “Damon isn’t with me.”
“Oh,” Johnson’s shoulders relaxed visibly.
Libia moved her basket back, and menuevered it around him. “Bye,” She said simply, too tired to look at his face.
But of course, he followed behind her. “Hey wait. What are you here for?”
She felt her head throb with an oncoming headache.
“A harpoon,” She muttered in a dry tone.
“Oh…what for?” He asked slowly, leaning his forearms on the basket as he matched her pace beside her.
She rolled her eyes. “To stick you in the eye with.”
“Ouch,” Johnson chuckled, “You still don’t like me, eh?”
“Hmm,” Libia said in a thoughtful tone, laced with sarcasm. “I wonder why?”
She abruptly turned left, down the drink isle, causing Johnson to pu-ll r0ûghly to a st©p in order to follow after her.
“You’ve changed, huh?” He commented, watching as she gr@bb£d her mother’s favorite energy drinks.
This made her pause, the only sound being the drinks settling into the basket.
It was true. She smiled at those who smiled at her. She met their eyes with confidence, and even had conversations with some of her customers at the sto-re, instead of just greeting them quietly and getting their groceries throu-gh as fast as possible. Plus she’d gotten a lot better at sarcasm.
“And you’ve gotten a tattoo,” He said in surprise. “Have you always had that?”
“Nope,” She answered simply, gr-abbing her favorite soda br@nd and setting it in the basket before wheeling off.
“And this is…Damon’s doing?” He guessed, following along, much to Libia’s irritation.
She sighed, turning to him. “What do you-” She g@sped, her b©dy freezing as she c@m£ face to face with him.
“I have to say…,” He breathed, picking up a strand of her hair, “I’m jealous of the guy.”
Anger began to boil in the pit of her stomach, and also disgust. “Ugh!” She bit out, raising her foot and stomping her heel ha-rd on his toes.
“Omph!” He squeaked, lifting his foot up to catch it in his hands as he hopped around.
“That was for being a creep. And this-,” She gr@bb£d the l@pels of his shi-t and pu-ll-ed him back up, before raising her hand and sma-cking him ha-rd across the face. “-Is for taking advantage of me at the diner! And also this-,” She pushed him back and stomped on his other foot. “Is for the time in the gym!”
Smoothing out her shi-t, she watched him sit down and begin mas-saging his feet. She let out a ‘hmph’ that she’d always wanted to do, like in the movies, and turned, stri-ding off.
“Oh!” She called back, feeling brevity and pride wash over her like a cleansing waterfall. “I’ll let Damon know that we…ran into each other. He’ll be happy to hear it!”
And with that, she went on with her grocery shopping, grinning from ear to ear as she gr@bb£d everything she nee-ded for dinner. She felt so proud of herself that she was two seconds away from physically patting herself on the back.
After paying for her things, she hummed to herself, digging in her purse as she wheeled out the exit, not paying attention.
She felt the basket crash into another, and heard an audible “Oh!”
Looking up, she let out a frustrated noise. “I’m so sorry, that’s the second time I’ve done that.”
The woman looked up, words about to come out, but they died off, and she smiled. “Libia! How’s my dear girl?” Cas-sie exclaimed.
“Cas-s? Oh, I’ve been great, just getting dinner supplies. How have you been?” She asked, coming around to embr@ce the woman in a light hvg.
“I’ve been wonderful! Buissiness is booming and Vinny got me flowers today for no reason!” She giggled.
Libia smiled. “That’s sweet of him. I’m so glad you’re doing well.”
“The only thing is, that darn Damon hasn’t been visiting me. I oughta throttle ‘im!” She rolled her eyes.
Libia winced, remembering his drun!ken words that night. They’d forbidden him to see her.
“I wouldn’t scold him too much, Cas-s,” Libia suggested softly, turning her eyes down.
“What? Why? What happened?” Cas-sie asked, suddenly worried.
“He…told me that his parents…didn’t want him to see you anymore,” She let out a sigh. “Apparently it was a big fight between the three of them.”
Cas-sie’s fists clenched. “I knew from the beginning that I should have taken those kids off their hands – hatred only breeds hatred!” She ranted.
“What…?” Libia trailed off, afraid to ask.
“What do I mean?” Cas-sie asked in my place. She sighed and looked at Libia’s groceries. “Do you nee-d help with cooking? It looks like you’ve got enough for a few people there.”
Relief washed throu-gh Libia. “Yes, plea-se.”
They drove home in Libia’s car – Libia promising to drop Cas-sie back off here when the time c@m£.
When they entered the house, Cas-sie noticed her tattoo. “Oh! It looks like you’ve been taking good care of it. Did it itch very badly?” She asked as she set the bags on the counter.
“No,” Libia said abs£ntly, listening for her brother. “It wasn’t too bad. Only for a few days.”
She didn’t hear any music coming from his room, so he must have been asleep. Good, she thought, I don’t want to deal with him.
They began cooking, putting a pot on the stove to boil as Libia oiled a pan and set it on medium heat.
Cas-sie was standing behind her at the island, grating cheese slow and steady, when she spoke.
“Damon’s parents,” She began, sighing softly. “Met in high school. They were both still children – wild and rambunctious. They thought they were meant to be together,” She laughed softly. “Two kids who believed in fairytails. They got married as soon as they graduated – because my sister’s parents were strict enough to f0rç£ her to wait until adulthood.” She thumped the grater a few times with her palm to get the extra cheese, before moving on to the shrimp, as she began to de-vein it with Libia. “After they married, they moved here, from a little town called Joshua in California. They bought a house, and their financial situation after that caused…anamosity between them. I visited a few times and…it was weeks filled with nothing but silence between them. I still don’t know how she got pregnant,” Cas-sie nudged Libia with a laugh, “With so much fridgid air in that place, there seemed to be no room for…r0m@nç£. But apparently they had their good days, because nine months later, I had a nephew.
“After that, however,” Cas-sie sighed, and her eyes saddened. “Their relationsh!pdeteriorated. Rich landed a great job, giving them plenty of money to provide for Jack, but…it was long hours, and there was no time for each other. Every time they saw each other, it was a screaming match. Two years later, they seemed to rekindle their relationsh!p, and Damon was born. A year later, their sister Carol as well. But after that…Rich and Lisbon’s relationsh!pwent downhill. They tolerated each other, but their pent up hatred for each other began to direct to their children. Once Damon called me, a little seven year old boy, to tell me that Lisbon and Rich had locked him in his room without lunch or dinner for spilling milk on the carpet. After that I moved down here to keep an eye on the three. Every time they got too severely punished, I would take them into my home and threaten to take them away forever if Rich and Lisbon didn’t clean up their act.” She let out a sigh. “They mellowed out after that, but they refused to let me visit for more than a few hours every few weeks. Even when I met Vinny after my tattoo business took off, and we married, they only stayed at our wedding for the ceremony.”
She looked at Libia with wythering eyes. “They treat their children like boot-camp delinquents. I don’t think those kids have ever heard a word of encouragement from either parent. That’s where I come in.” A smile replaced her frown, as Libia poured the shrimp into the pan. “Their parents go on trips every once in a while – enough time for me to visit for an extended period of time and encourage the cra-p out of ’em.”
Libia laughed, smiling warmly over her shoulder at the kind woman. “Damon speaks so highly of you. He regards you as the mother he should have had.”
Sighing, Cas-sie poured the creamy white sauce in with the shrimp. “I wish Lisbon would see just how wonderful they are. They’re like jobs to her – raise them and get them out of the house, is how she see’s it. She doesn’t…see them. You un-derstand?” She looked at me.
Libia nodded. “Yes. She sees them as hurdles to jump.”
“Exactly,” She confirmed, as she turned and began opening the boxes of Penne.
“That makes me sad,” Libia murmured.
“Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”
They stood in thoughtful silence, as Libia poured in the pasta, and Cas-sie stirred the sauce. The only sounds were the soft boiling of the water, and the quiet scr@p£ of the spoon in the pan.
“Who’s this?” The voice c@m£ from the hallway, tired and worn.
Turning their gazes from dinner, they c@m£ to rest on Ben, who’s hair was a mess, and who’s eyes were bleary.
“Oh gosh. The virus?” Cas-sie asked, laughing softly.
“Yes. He just got s£nt home,” Libia murmured. “How’d you know?”
“Vinny had it. He looked just like that when he c@m£ home from the hospital.”
Laughing, Libia gestured to Cas-sie. “Ben, this is Damon’s Aunt, Cas-sie. Cas-s, this is my brother, Ben.”
“Well hi there!” Cas-sie exclaimed, grinning. “It’s nice to meet the big brother of this fine young lady!”
Libia was giggling as she explained, “We ran into each other at the sto-re and she offered to help with dinner.”
“Damon’s Aunt?” He asked, turning his eyes to her.
It occurred to her that he may have been a little upset with her still.
“Yeah,” She said, clearing her throat. “I uh…hope that’s alright?”
Sighing, he nodded. “Yeah, it’s fine. I don’t think I’ll be having dinner though. I still feel a bit…iffy, you know?”
Grimacing, Libia nodded back. “I get it.”
After a moment of silence, he looked behind her at Cas-sie. “It was nice meeting you.”
She looked between the two, detecting some bad blood that she wasn’t p@rty to.
“You too,” She said, re-ading the tense atmosphere.
He filled a cu-p with water, before retreating back to his room.
“Something happen?” She asked me, as I returned to stirring the pasta.
I sighed, “He’s tired, and I’m tired, and we’re both fed up with each other.”
“Whoa, what happened?” Cas-s asked as she turned off the heat un-der the pan.
“He hadn’t…known that I got a tattoo. And he doesn’t…exactly approve of them. Now he thinks I’m some delinquent and that…,” She trailed off, casting a quic-k glance at Cas-sie.
“And that Damon is the one who turned you?” Cas-sie guessed.
“Kind of….”
Rolling her eyes, she smiled. “He’s just being protective. Believe me, Damon may act it, but he’s no delinquent. Your brother’ll come around.”
Libia hoped so – but the way her brother acted just then signified that it would be a while before that happened.
***
“By the way, where is Vinny right now?” Libia asked, they’d finished eating, and Libia was taking Cas-sie back to her car.
“He’s visiting friends in the city. He’s supposedly staying the night,” She snorted a laugh, “But he’s been known to get into fights with one of them, so we’ll see.”
“Oh,” She pu-ll-ed to a st©p in the parking lot. “Well you be careful going home. Tell Vin I said hi!”
“Will do. You take care of yourself – and my nephew,” She win-ked, before stepping out of the car.
Libia’s cheeks tinged pink, as she was brou-ght back to his words. I nee-d you.
nee-d her? How could he nee-d her? It seemed like she was the one dependant on him. It still made her heart flutter to realize that he’d revealed his feelings for her – front and center, with no preamble.
She waited until Cas-sie started her car up, before waving to her throu-gh the windsheild and pu-lling out. Her eyes were drooping as she drove back to the house, and she had to blink a few times to keep them open. She hadn’t realized how tired she’d become.
Meanwhile, Damon la-id in his room. His shi-t had been discarded somewhere on the floor, as he pla-yed with his phone. His parents were downstairs, yelling at each other over something stupid. His sister could be heard pla-ying her video games loudly in the next room, and his brother across from him was blasting music – he suspected to drown out their parent’s voices.
His eyes turned from the ceiling to his phone, and he sighed. “Would I annoy her, if I called right now?”
The image of her smiling face was melded into his mind. The way her f!ngerspla-yed between his shoulder blades a few days ago. He nee-ded to speak to her.
Sighing, he picked out her number in his contacts, and with little hesitation, pressed the call bu-tton. He pressed it to his ear, waiting impatiently as it rang a few times.
“Hey,” She murmured on a yawn.
He was r!pp£dof words, and the only thing he managed to utter was, “Hi.”
She laughed softly, and he wasn’t aware that his eyes drifted closed. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. My parents are downstairs re-enacting a world war,” He said, his voice dry.
“Oh,” She murmured, and she sounded worried. “I’m sorry. Is it because of me?”
He felt his heart jump, as he realized that she felt guilty, and his eyes opened. “Of course not, Babe. This isn’t exactly an unusual thing,” He explained quic-kly.
“Oh,” It was quieter this time, before she murmured, “Damon…?”
“Yeah, Babe?” He asked, his breath catching in worry at the apprehensive tone she took on.
“My brother…found out about the tattoo.” He let out the breath he’d been holding, before wincing. “And from the sound of your voice, I’m guessing he didn’t take it too well?”
She snorted. “He said the next time he saw you he’d deck you in the face. Oh, and you’re not allowed near me anymore.”
He winced again, and then laughed. “That doesn’t bode well, does it?”
Her giggle was music to his ears. “No.”
“What are you up to?” He asked her, rolling over to rest his head on his folded arm.
“Lying down at the moment. It’s been a long few days,” She told him, and a yawn tumbled throu-gh the phone.
He frowned at the exhaustion in her voice, as if just the thought of it made her tired. “What happened?”
She hesitated, before uttering, “After you dropped me off from the hospital the other day…dad paid a visit. He was dropped off by none other than his wife. And as I’ve told you before, I’m…hesitant to meet her.”
He nodded, not even caring that she couldn’t see it. “You said that it would only hurt worse when you met the woman who replaced your mother.”
“Right,” She muttered, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s been weighing on my mind quite a bit. Plus mom’s bills nee-d to be payed, and my brother’s – the hospital pays for most of it because Mom works there, but paying the rest will be a has-sle in of itself.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, bighting his ton-gue against the offer he so badly wanted to make. His parents would never approve of paying her bills. And she wouldn’t accept it, anyhow.
“I’m sorry,” He said, leaving the phone sitting on his cheek as he ran a hand throu-gh his hair.
“It’s not your fault,” She giggled. “In fact…,” But she trailed off, seeming to rethink her words.
“What?” He pushed.
“Nothing,” She said, and he heard embarras-sment in her voice.
“Libia,” He gro-an ed, “I’m too curious now.”
“I was just going to say that,” She paused, and he heard her take in a breath. “That your call…really helped. I just nee-ded someone…to talk to. My brother is more exhausted than I am, and…I just have no one to talk to right now.” He could almost see her shrugging.
“Oh,” He mumbled, his heart pounding with the realization that his call helped her. He never thought about the fact that she might have nee-ded him. “You…have no idea how glad I am to hear that,” He whispered.
“That I have no one to talk to?” She asked, and he heard the dry humor in her voice.
“No!” He said, laughing. “No way! I meant that I could help you!”
She laughed with him, and it felt good to just to relax and laugh with her. Their laughter died down after a moment, and Libia sighed. “I’m not very re-ady for tomorrow.”
“Tomorr- oh,” He realized, blinking. “Tomorrow. The…family d@t£.”
“Yeah,” She giggled. “That.”
“It’ll be alright,” He as-sured. “My brother and sister are great. They’re exstatic to meet you.”
“Really?” She asked, her voice timid, and he could see her cheeks turn red in his mind. “I can’t wait to meet them, either.”
“And…,” Damon let out a sigh, “Don’t worry about my parents. They’re just…weird. They’ll warm up to you. And even if they don’t – it doesn’t matter. Because my siblings love you, and I-,” His words caught in his throat, and he stared at the wall in shock. He almost let it sli-p. He almost said the one thing that he’d been too nervous to even discuss with himself about. quic-kly, he cleared his throat, and said, “I won’t let them make as-sumptions about you that aren’t true.”
She fell silent for a few seconds, before her throat cleared and she whispered, “Thank you. I…I should probably get some sleep. Big day ahead – you know.”
He sighed, but nodded. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow, Babe.”
“Yeah.”
They were both silent for a moment.
“Damon…can I ask you something?” She whispered.
“Of course,” He replied immediately, raising his eyebrows.
She hesitated, before asking, “How are you so br@ve all of the time?”
He blinked, his mouth dropping open. How was he br@ve? What was she talking about?
“Um…I’m not sure I follow,” He murmured.
“What I mean is…how do you…do the things you do without fear of the judgement of others?”
He stared ahead for a moment. “I never…really think about it,” He admitted. “It’s just that I’ve lived throu-gh the judgement of others for so long…I think I’ve learned to ignore it.”
“Oh,” She murmured, sighing. “I see.”
Damon rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Libia…you’ve got to realize something about yourself – and I don’t think you’re going to realize it on your own. You’re a wonderful person. You’re beautiful, and pas-sionate, and innocent. The only way to show people that – to be br@ve – is to realize those things…and own them. Wear those traits like bright metals.”
His che-st felt so much lighter, having told her. He always hated seeing her insecurities. Seeing her wear her hair like a mask to hide the face she should be showing to the world addorned with a bright smile.
She let out a giggle, much to his surprise, and then murmured, “Thank you, Damon.”
“Hey, it’s the truth,” He shrugged.
“I’ve got a bunch to tell you tomorrow – and before you ask, I’m telling you when I see you because I want to see your face when you tell me how proud you are. And plus I have to sleep,” She added, chuckling.
He let out a laugh. “Okay, now I’m curious.”
“You’ll find out tomorrow!” She sang, before saying, “Now let me sleep, before I sneak out of the house to see you.”
Laughing, but secretly dying to make those words a reality, he murmured. “Night, Babe.”
“Goodnight,” She murmured in a soft tone.
After they disconnected, Damon couldn’t shake the smile on his face.
Libia la-id in her be-d, eyes closed, a small smile stubbornly keeping itself glued to her face. She didn’t mind. It felt good.
“Thank you, Damon,” She repeated to herself, her heart thour0ûghly warmed.
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Tbc