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😧LIBIA (Find my confidence)😧
☎☎☎☎☎☎☎☎☎☎☎☎
Chapter Three.
Three days later, Libia sat with my eyes drooping and her head on her folded arms, staring into the pitch black darkness where her desk should be. She worried she might drool, but sleep was overtaking her, so she was really beginning to not care.
“Ms. Fields!” She yelped, sitting straight up.
“Y-yes Mrs. Gable?” Libia stuttered, pushing her hair out of her face.
“rou-gh night I presume?” Her History teacher barked, staring down at her.
She gulped. “U-um…I didn’t get much sleep last night and-”
“I don’t care!” She snapped, with all the ferocity of a drill sergeant.
Libia could feel herself shrinking. “I expect you to be fully alert and paying attention in my clas-s, Ms. Fields. slee-ping is for your be-d!” She barked.
Damon watched with clenched fists as his teacher belittled the fragile girl. He wanted to open his mouth so bad, but he knew that he had to bide his time. Let Johnson deal with this.
“I’m giving you an hour of detention after school.”
“An hour!” Libia g@sped.
“An hour, Ms. Fields. Maybe you think next time before you doze in my clas-s.”
Libia could feel her hands shaking beneath her desk, as her eyes watered. Her mother would kill her. Libia was made a criminal for staying up late for work. She nee-ded this money to add to her college fund. How could her teacher be so cruel?
Libia had a ti-ght£ñing in her che-st. She had work after clas-s. She couldn’t stay for detention.
“B-but I have work.” She squeaked.
“Detention, Ms. Fields!” Her teacher barked once again.
Libia could feel panic overwhelming her. Her manager was strict. He wouldn’t put up with something like this. He counted on Libia being a good student, and Libia nee-ded this job. As long as she was on time, he’d work with her school schedule. Not only was college a thing to think about, but she had to pay for her dance clas-s on Friday.
“Mrs. Gable.” Libia heard a smooth voice call.
“Yes, Mr. Breaker?” Mrs. Gable asked politely.
“Libia is a good student with t©p notch grades. She has a job that keeps her up late at night. I’m sure if she could have, she would paid ra-pt attention to you.” Johnson said calmly.
Libia cringed, afraid she’d hear another outbur-st from the teacher. But Mrs. Gable simply stared at Johnson for a few seconds, and then shifted her gaze to Libia. “I un-derstand. I am sorry for the outbur-st, Ms. Fields. I won’t give you a detention sli-p. Just plea-se pay attention in my clas-s next time.” Mrs. Gable said, her voice calm and collected.
Libia was surprised, blinking away the tears left over from her panic attack. “Th-thank you.” She stumbled out, s£nding Johnson a glance that thanked him way more than words could.
He gave a small smile, nodding once.
The rest of the clas-s went by without a hitch, as Libia made sure to pay ra-pt attention to her easily-angered teacher. She was carefully putting her books in her locker, her hair falling in her face to keep the attention away.
“Hey, Libia.” Johnson greeted, stepping up to her.
She looked up at the handsome boy, giving a shy smile, the corners of herl-ips lifting just an inch. “Hi. Listen, thank you so much for what you did in there I really didn’t know what I would have done. I really owe you one.” She murmured, her eyes shyly flitting back to her locker as she put another book away.
Johnson smiled brightly. It was exactly what he nee-ded to hear. “I have a way that you can make it up to me.” He said.
She looked up at him. “Yeah, anything.”
Johnson almost felt sorry for the easily trusting girl. Her eyes staring up at him expectantly. It struck him to realize just how trusting this girl really was. She didn’t think for one second that he would take advantage of her.
“Come with me to the pizza shop down by Lazarus Street.” He said.
Libia was so surprised, that the book she was holding sli-pped from her hands, falling with a thump to the floor. Neither of them even looked at the book. For the first time, in shock, she was staring straight into his eyes, without looking away.
“I…what?” She stuttered.
He grinned down at her, and her cheeks turned bright red. “Let’s shorten it. Will you go on a d@t£ with me?”
“I can’t tonight.” Was her immediate, quiet answer.
The grin didn’t falter. “Than tomorrow after school.”
Libia thought for a moment. She had dance clas-s on Fridays, but it was early in the morning, and ended rather early.
“I think that can be arranged.” Libia nodded, her cheeks going red again.
“Okay.” And he leaned down, pressing a lingering k!sson her cheek that had her burning with embarras-sment.
He stooped down, gr-abbing her book and gently settling it into her hands. And then he was gone, melting into the crowd.
“Libbi.” Libia turned at her nickname.
“Ben. What are you doing here?” She asked, shoving her books into her locker and closing it.
Had she not been so distracted by the still-tingling k!sson her cheek, she would have seen Ben’s panicked expression.
“Mom’s home.” He said.
She raised an eyebrow, turning to finally look at him. His breathing was ragged, and his eyes were panicked. She settled her hands on his wi-de shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes. “So what does that mean?”
“It means she’s home…and so is Dad.”
I could feel my face go pale. Ben wasn’t a good peace maker. He would ramble on, and make the situation worse when he’s nervous. Libia was more the voice of reason in the house.
Without another word, he gr@bb£d her by the arm and began dragging her away. “I am so stupid. When he got there I started talking about how it was great to see him and then Mom got home early and I started rambling asking mom if she thought it was great to see him too and-”
“Ben. I’m going to have a bruise on my arm if you don’t st©p squee-zing.” I rolled my eyes.
His grip loos£ned, but he was still walking briskly, ma-king me run to keep up.
“Hey, Libia- whoa, what’s going on?” c@m£ron, a friend from her table began running with them.
“Sorry Cam. Can’t talk right now. Emergency at home. Will you tell the principle? Thank you!” Libia called, not waiting for an answer.
Damon was distracted from his conversation with his friends when the doors to the school slammed open, and an older guy that Damon hadn’t seen c@m£ stri-ding out, Libia in tow. Libia was running to catch up.
“Will you slow down, Ben? Mom most likely won’t kill him!” She yelled.
The guy, Ben, didn’t listen. He kept walking, and Libia huffed, rolling her eyes.
Another guy, c@m£ron Garb c@m£ out, watching Libia with raised eyebrows. He as-sumed they were friends, as he approached. “You know what’s going on?” Damon asked.
“Some kind of emergency at home.” Cam shrugged.
“Who was the guy?” Damon watched as he gave her a teasing shove to the car, running around the other side. They burned ru-bber out of the lot, disappearing down the road.
c@m£ron shook his head. “Don’t know. b©yfri£nd? Friend? Brother?” He shrugged.
“Slow down!” Libia yelled, holding ti-ghtly to the safety bar.
They peeled into the driveway, slamming into a st©p. He was out of the car before the keys could be pu-ll-ed from the ignition. Libia rolled her eyes as he fell back into the car, fumbling with the keys.
“You are such a drama queen!” Libia exclaimed, lugging herself out of the car.
He gr@bb£d a hold of her arm, tugging her to the door.
When the door slammed open, arguing from inside ceased.
Their mother was holding a lamp up, re-ady to smash it into their father’s head.
Libia rushed into the room, gently taking the lamp from her mother’s hold. She set it back down on the table beside the couch, stepping between the two and pushing them farther ap@rt. “Okay. Let’s be adults here, hmm?”
“Adults my-” She sl@pped a hand over her mother’s mouth.
“Adults.” She repeated in a ha-rd voice. “Would you want me to smash a lamp over my ex’s head if I suddenly saw him again?” She asked calmly.
She let out a sigh beneath Libia’s hand. The responsible, mature young girl was right. Her mother wasn’t being a good example. Libia let her hand drop from her mother’s mouth, and she led her to the couch, sitting her down.
She then turned on her father. “Now what the hell are you doing here?” Libia asked.
The words were calm, and demanding. ma-king them more threatening than if she would have yelled them.
Her father straightened his shoulders, giving a small smile to his daughter. She always was the voice of reason.
“I can’t visit my children?” He asked incredulously.
Libia sighed heavily. “Couldn’t you have called first? You have the right to visit your children, yes. But don’t you think a phone call would have been in order, especially after everything you did to a certain woman on the edge inching back towards the lamp behind me?”
Her mother froze, grumbling something about how the girl had eyes on the back of her head.
“I thought I’d surprise you guys.”
Libia, despite how hurt her mother was, couldn’t hate her father. She res£nted him, yes, but she didn’t hate him. She grew up with the man. “I called you two weeks before we moved. I never even got to here your voice, save for the damn message tone.” She reminded.
He grimaced. “I had some…things going on.”
“Right. Things being my half sister and Maria.” Ben muttered, leaning against the wall.
“I want you out of my house! I don’t want to see those perfectly polished shoes ever again!” Their mother shrilled, tears threatening to pour.
Even Libia couldn’t deny the cruelty of her father’s actions. The wound was still fresh for her mother, and for him to visit like he hadn’t done anything wrong was utterly cold. Libia was reminded, again, how little he loved her mother anymore. It hurt. Libia hated seeing her mother cry. She hated seeing her mother weak, because the woman was always the strong woman that Libia wanted, but didn’t have the courage to be. She loved her mother.
“I agree with Mom.” Libia stated, planting her feet firmly.
“Libia-”
“Why don’t you take a walk with me, Dad?” Libia interrupted, knowing her mother was close to the brink.
Reluctantly, he agreed. And a few minutes later they were out on the sidewalk, strolling along.
“Do you realize how unfeeling you seem right now?” Libia asked him, her voice gentle to soften the b!ow. Libia’s father looked at her in surprise. “Mom is trying really ha-rd to get over you, you know. Just because you don’t feel anything for her anymore doesn’t mean she’s the same. Didn’t you realize what coming home would do to her?”
Her father looked away, out at the street. His eyes settled on a woman with a stroller, jogging along. “I didn’t think-”
“Exactly, Dad. You didn’t think. I think you should stay away for a while. At least a few months. Mom can’t handle knowing you’re here. She’s finally starting to get better.”
He clenched his jaw. “I shouldn’t have to stay away from my kids-”
She cut him off again, crossing her arms impatiently. “Okay, Dad, let me tell you something – this is a choice that you made. No one f0rç£d you to cheat on mom. So man up and reap the consequences. You betrayed her trust, as well as my Ben’s and mine. I feel hurt, and res£ntful towards you right now. We all do. But not nearly as much as Mom. Mom is in pain, Dad. Leave her, me, and Ben alone until we can all find it in our hearts not to hit you over the head with a lamp.” She then leaned up, k!$$£d him on the cheek, and left him there.
Her father stared after Libia’s retreating figure, shocked. He ru-bbe-d his face, remourse weighing his heart. What had he done?
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