?LIBIA (Find my confidence)?
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Chapter Five.
Libia pushed away from him. “N-no. I can’t. That’s not me.”
Damon pu-ll-ed her back, lifting her chin so she looked straight at him. “Don’t you want to show Johnson that he can’t break you down that easily? You can do this. Show him that he can push you down, but you’ll only rise stronger, and better.” Damon said.
Libia had to admit. She liked the idea. But what would her brother think? Her mother? Would they approve of this? Of course, she didn’t exactly have to tell them.
Yeah. She thought. This could be like my dance clas-s. I could keep this a secret.
But what would her brother say if he knew? Would he approve? Would he think her foolish?
Somehow, Libia couldn’t find it in herself to care. She was angry as Johnson, but also hurt. Those emotions were clouding her usually clear thinking process. She wanted him to see that what he did to her didn’t affect her like he wanted it to. She wanted everyone to see the confident girl she could become.
So she pu-ll-ed away from Damon once again, but this time she looked him straight in the eyes. “Alright. What do I do first?” She asked.
He grinned down at her. Mission accomplished.
“A wardrobe change. We start early tomorrow. Make sure you set your alarm for eight and you’re re-ady by nine.” He ordered, beginning to drag her across the parking lot.
“Where are we going?” She asked him.
“I’m taking you home.” Damon said, as if it were obvious.
Libia opened her mouth to protest, but nothing c@m£ out, as they c@m£ upon a shiny, poison green sports motorcycle.
“What…is this?” She asked him.
“This is my baby, Babe.” He answered, and then he threw his leg over.
“You weren’t driving that earlier today.” Libia pointed out.
“I don’t normally drive my bike to school, Babe.” He answered, using his hold on her hand to pu-ll her closer.
“Um…I’m not getting on that thing.” Libia said, taking a step back.
“Oh yes you are. This is the first step in showing Johnson what a badas-s you can be.” He grinned up at her, pu-lling her back again.
When Libia made no move to get on the bike, Damon sighed. He swung his leg back over, stood up, and swept her legs out from un-der her. She let out a skrie-k, and caught her just before she hit the ground.
“Let me go!” She cried, wriggling in his arms.
Damon only laughed, and then he settled her on the bike, taking her hands and wra-pping them around his w@!st.
“You might want to hold onto me, Babe.” And then the bike roared to life beneath them.
Libia yelped in fright, as she pu-ll-ed herself closer to Damon, wra-pping her arms around his w@!st. She could feel him laughing at her, so she lifted her head and cried in his ear, “Quit laughing!”
This only made him laugh ha-rder, as they pu-ll-ed out of the lot. Libia was glad that her hous was just a few blocks away. She didn’t want to be on this death tra-p any longer than she had to be.
As he picked up speed, Libia began to feel the wind in her hair, and although it was cold, it brou-ght a feeling of exhileration to life that she didn’t know was in her. Her stomach dropped when he turned, ma-king a nervous giggle escape.
She was almost dissapointed when he c@m£ to a st©p at a st©p sign.
“Where is your house?” He called back to her.
“364 Dale Street!” She replied over the noise.
He nodded to himself, and started driving again. Not a minute later, he cruised past her house.
“You pas-sed it!”
“$h!t, hang on!” He yelled back.
He slowed to a st©p two houses from his original target, and the night was silent once again as he turned the bike off. Libia got off first, and was surprised as Damon got off behind her.
“I’ll walk you to the door.” He said.
She raised an eyebrow at his innocent expression. Had he…? No. It was an honest mistake that he was just trying to make up for…right?
He unexpectedly tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, pu-lling her into his side.
She felt her cheeks go red, but brushed the feeling off.
They walked in silence, but it was comfortable. She felt safe at his side, for some odd reason.
They paused at her doorstep, and he took a look around for a moment. “Your driveway’s empty.” He pointed out.
Libia nodded. “Yeah. Mom works as the night nurse at the hospital, and my brother is usually out with his friends.” She explained as she pu-ll-ed out her key.
“Ah, Babe, your hair is a little crazy.” Damon pointed out.
“Hmm? Oh!” Her cheeks turned bright red, as she ran her f!ngersthrou-gh her hair. “Is that better?”
Damon shook his head, and boldly pu-ll-ed her closer. He thre-aded his f!ngersthrou-gh her hair, carefully dragging them down to smooth the tangles. Her eyes were wi-de, and doe-like, as they stared up at him.
He never took his eyes from hers, seeming to lose control of himself for a moment. He had no idea what got into him. He just took an opportunity to hold her.
“There. That’s better.” He whispered, his breath fanning Libia’s face.
He took a step back, gave her a blinding smile, and left.
Libia stood still, watching him walk down the sidewalk. He got on his bike, turned to her, and she could have sworn he win-ked, but she couldn’t be sure from this distance.
He sped down the road, and her heart’s erratic pumping slowly began to relax. She turned, and a giddy giggle escaped without her cons£nt.
Her mind wasn’t even on Johnson anymore.
Her smiled dropped when her brother’s angered voice traveled throu-ghout the house.
“What the hell was that?”
“Ben? I thought-”
“You thought what? That I wouldn’t see you come speeding down the road on a motorcycle with no helmet on? With some guy?” He growled.
Libia should have known he would wait for her. He always waited for her to return after her d@t£s.
“No Ben. Where’s your car?” She asked.
“A friend of mine had to borrow it for a couple of hours. That’s beside the point, Libia.” He snapped, taking a step closer. “Who the hell was that guy? Where’s this Johnson kid? And why was he tou-ching you like that?” He fired off questions, ma-king Libia grimace.
“That was Damon. Johnson…had an emergency and he had to leave. He didn’t have time to take me home, so Damon offered.” She lied throu-gh her teeth. “Damon’s a friend-”
“That move he pu-ll-ed out there didn’t look very friendly! And what the hell do you think you were doing on that bike?” Ben fired off again.
Libia sighed, keeping her voice calm in hopes that he’d lower his. “I would have walked but he insisted. Would you rather I walked this late at night? And as for what he did out there…I have no idea what it means.” Libia held back the reflexive smile that wanted to bur-st forth, keeping her face smooth.
“I have an idea.” Ben muttered, finally lowering his voice. “And no, as much as I don’t like the vehicle arrangment, I wouldn’t prefer you walking.”
“Can you do me a favor and don’t tell Mom about this? I’d be dead before you could finish the s£ntence.” Libia pleaded.
“Fine. But I don’t want to see that kind of thing again. I was this close to opening that door and shoving his face into the concrete.” He said, leaning against the wall in a resigned manner.
Libia winced. She wasn’t sure, but she had a feeling that she was going to be on that bike again. She knew that wasn’t the only thing he was talking about, too. Libia wasn’t too sure about that, either.
Never the less, Ben wasn’t going to see it again. She gave him a nod in reply. “You got it.”
Without another word, Libia sprinted down the hall, entering her room with mixed emotions. p@rt of her wanted to crawl into a hole and wither into nothing. Another p@rt of her wanted to rise above it all and show everyone just how strong she could be. The p@rt that wanted to crawl into a hole won over for the night. Of course there were no holes nearby, so she chose the next best thing, she crawled un-derneath the covers and snuggled into her be-d, feeling anything but comforted.
She let tears fall from her eyes and the feelings of humiliation and hurt take hold. She saved her anger and her grudging feelings for tomorrow, where they could fuel her. When she woke up this morning, Libia had no idea that she would be spending a Saturday with a boy who caused her heart to do strange things in her che-st. She refused to believe the reaction was anything more than physical attra-ction. It was an easy explanation – Who wouldn’t be attra-cted to him?
Libia knew that he wasn’t attra-cted to her. It wasn’t possible. He was probably just teasing her. Or maybe his actions were innocent. Maybe this was friendly for him.
Libia drifted to sleep in the middle of her wandering thoughts, and the next morning she awoke to her regular alarm. She hadn’t turned it off for the weekend because Damon wanted her up early.
gro-an ing, Libia dragged herself out of be-d, stumbling like every morning into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth like a zombie before jumping in the shower.
The scalding h0t water managed to get her awake and focused. She stepped out of the shower, lifting her eyes to the window behind her desk. Hers was the last house on the block, and her room faced the street corner. She loved to people watch after studying. Right now she was watching for any signs of the motorcycle.
Libia walked into her closet, languidly picking out her clothing for the day. Her thoughts went back to Damon’s words before.
A wardrobe change? Libia thought her wardrobe suited her just fine. She had T-shi-ts of all kinds, lots of sweaters, jeans, and only a few pairs of r!pp£dshorts that reached a few inches above the knee. She didn’t like showing a lot of skin. And she didn’t have a lot of dressy, or girly shi-ts.
Maybe that’s what he means. She nee-ds to dress girlier? Libia had no idea what was wrong with her wardrobe.
Maybe she’d call Vivi and ask her what she thought.
Shaking her thoughts, she gr@bb£d a white knit sweater, throwing on a tank t©p un-derneath. She sli-pped on some dark blue jeans to go with it, along with some white flats.
She swiped on some makeup, just some mascara and eyeliner, and checked the time. It was ten minutes to eight.
Libia thought this was a good time to check and see if her brother was home. She knew her mother was, but her mother would be slee-ping off the night shift. That woman could sleep throu-gh an earth quake. Libia made her way throu-gh the house, checking in the kitchen. She noticed a note on the fridge.
Had to leave for job interview at Cane’s Workshop, be back at 11:00.
– B.
Libia could tell by how clumsily he’d written it that he’d woken up later than planned and had to leave in a rush. Libia shook her head, smiling.
She put the note back on the fridge as someone knocked on the door.
Strange. She thought. I didn’t hear the motorcycle.
She opened the door, and Damon smiled in at her. “Hey, Babe. re-ady?” He asked.
“Hang on, let me write a note for Ben and Mom.” She left the door open for him, jogging back to the kitchen and ripping a note from the pad.
Went to the mall with a friend. Should be back sometime tonight.
– L.
Libia stuck the note on the fridge beside her brother’s, doubting her mom would be up, but just wanting to make sure.
“Let’s go.” Libia said, a little reluctantly.
Damon followed Libia out, and noticed her looking for the bike.
“No bike today, Babe. We’re taking the 911.” Damon said smugly.
Libia turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, and he gestured down the road, one house down.
She looked, and her eyes popped. It was a sleek black Porsche 911 Turbo.
“Where do you get all these cars?” She asked him as he pressed his hand to the small of her back, leading her down the sidewalk.
He chuckled, enjoying her awe. “This one’s my Dad’s. The bike is mine, and the BMW that I usually drive is my brother’s.”
“You have a brother?” She asked, her eyes wi-de with curiosity, as he unlocked the car and pu-ll-ed the door open.
He smiled down at her, staring into her doe-like eyes. “Yeah. And a sister. Carol and Jack, She’s sixteen, he’s nineteen. I as-sume Ben’s your brother?” He asked her.
“Yeah. He’s a year older than me. Speaking of, my brother saw us last night. He didn’t much like the idea of me ri-ding on a bike.” Libia said, glancing up at Damon.
He closed the door, jogging around to the other side to jump in.
Damon raised an eyebrow at her when he got settled. “I thought you said he wasn’t home.”
“I thought he wasn’t. His car was gone. One of his friends had borrowed it for a couple of hours.” Libia explained.
“I bet he wasn’t too happy when he saw me.” Damon muttered, starting the car up and pu-lling out.
“Nope.” Libia popped the ‘P’ fli-pp@n-tly as she examined the car.
What neither of them mentioned, was the intamate moment they shared. It was clear without being said that Libia’s brother had seen that, too.
When they arrived at the mall, it was alre-ady packed, despite it being nine fifteen in the morning. Libia could feel herself closing off, and her shy side was beginning to cover the br@ve.
She got out of the car with Damon, rushing over to his side as he met her at the back end of the car. Seeing her discomfort, he slung an arm around her small shoulders, ma-king sure she was tucked safely into his side. Libia felt her cheeks heat up at the contact, but was thankful he un-derstood. She was able to lift her head just a little more, and walk with a longer stride.
“So where are we going?” She asked, her voice back to it’s quiet tone.
He glanced down at her, his eyes searching. “Food court, I didn’t have breakfast.” He muttered.
She nodded, averting her gaze back to the ground.
Meanwhile, Johnson sat in the food court, telling his friends all about the so called “d@t£” he had.
“I totally got her un-der my spell. All I had to do was compliment her eyes and bam! She was all mine.” Johnson laughed, pu-lling Bailey closer to his side.
“You might want to watch out, John. My friend Vinny found out from his cousin Jen that her sister Jamie was there, and she saw the little nerd run right into Damon Slain’s arms. She said they left on his motorcycle and everything.” Daina, Bailey’s friend informed.
Johnson furrowed his eyebrows. “He probably took pity on her. She probably begged for a ride.” He chuckled, waving it off.
The table laughed, but as the laughter died down, Dan, a friend of Johnson’s eyes focused on something behind them. He knudged Daina with wi-de eyes, and hers grew equally wi-de as they followed his gaze.
“Uh-oh.”
Growing curious, Johnson turned around in his seat, and his eyes bugged at what he saw. Damon Slain had his arm around Libia, and they were laughing at something. Libia looked like she was genuinely having a good time, Damon as well.
“Well I’ll be a son of a bit-ch.” Dan muttered.
“What about Mc. Donalds?” Libia suggested as they walked into the food court.
Damon pu-ll-ed a face, shaking his head. “I don’t want to eat food with a creepy clown staring at me.” He muttered, pointing to the giant clown face beside the sign.
Libia couldn’t help but bur-st out laughing, imagining the clown eyes following Damon. Damon laughed with her, glad he was able to get her to relax a little.
As his eyes were scanning the court for another option, they landed on Johnson and a few of his other friends. Their eyes were alre-ady on the two, and Johnson’s mouth was open slightly in surprise.
“Look who it is – Bozo The Dunce.” Damon said, inclining his head in their direction.
He felt Libia tense un-der his arm as she followed his gaze, and gave her shoulders a squee-ze.
“Let’s go get Wendy’s. I can deal with a redhead in pigtails staring at me.” He suggested, steering her away.
She sh0t him a thankful smile, as they got in line.
The smile was forgotton, however, as she glanced back to see Johnson getting out of his seat. She prayed that he was just going to leave, but that wasn’t the case, unfortunately, as he made his way over.
“Heads up.” Libia muttered sullenly.
Damon discreetly glanced back, to see Johnson halfway to where they were. And he acted.
“Libia, k!ssme.” Damon ordered.
“W-what?” She asked in surprise.
“k!ssme. You want to show him that you’re over him. k!ssme.” He repeated, turning to her and cu-pping her face in both his hands.
Libia couldn’t think. Before she even had time to blink hisl-ips were on hers, and she was lost. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her mind went blank. She had no idea how to react, no prior training except for one time when she was k!$$£d against her will by this kid named Garth who had gotton rabies from picking up what he thought was a dead racoon the day before. Let’s just say it wasn’t dead. Libia thought that it was we-t and gross and she never wanted to experience it again.
But with Damon, there was no thought. She moved herl-ips with his on instinct, and it wasn’t we-t or gross, it was warm and soft. Sparks ignited inside of her, and electricity flowed like blood throu-gh her veins. The hair on his chin tickled hers, adding to the experiance, and ma-king her want to be closer to him.
Her hands made their way up his muscular che-st, to his n£¢k. She traveled up until she felt the stubble on his chin, and then reached their destination, entangling in his hair.
She nee-ded air, and Damon s-en-sed it, as he pu-ll-ed away. They were both g@sping. Damon didn’t expect to have that kind of reaction to theirl-ips meeting. He meant it to be brief, and sweet, but he lost control. He had been thinking about what she said to him the night before. Johnson had k!$$£d her. He wanted her to remember this k!ss. This was the k!sshe wanted her to think about at night. Hell, he wanted to be thinking about it at night. He loved how herl-ips were swollen, her eyes glazed as they stared into his.
“That was…” Libia couldn’t finish, for someone cleared their throat rather loudly.
They turned their heads, to see Johnson standing a mere feet away from them, with his friends not far behind.
“Oh…Johnson.” Libia took a step away from Damon, realizing that she’d pressed herself to him sometime when they were…k!ssing!
Oh my god. Libia thought, her cheeks flaming. We k!$$£d! We…me and Damon…Damon and I…
Damon was grinning like a fool, as he looked at the group. “Hey guys. What’s up?” He asked casually.
The girls, who were glaring with jealousy at the now quiet girl standing beside Damon, batted their eyelashes at him. Even Bailey, whom was still un-der Johnson’s arm.
“Nothing much. We were just wondering…why you guys were here.” Johnson had to swallow mid-s£ntance, as if his polite tone was painful to use.
Libia jumped in without even thinking. Her anger at Johnson fueling her words. “Well last night, after you left so ‘unnexpectedly’, I ran into Damon. He was planning on driving me home, but we st©pped for icecream first. He asked me to come with him to the mall today as sort of a…d@t£.” She smiled sweetly, looping her arm around Damon’s.
Damon was nodding, impressed at how well the girl could lie. Make Johnson even angrier that his plan didn’t work by telling him that Libia found someone else. Someone better.
Johnson’s eyes flashed with indignation. “Huh…I see.”
“Well we’re just going to eat, and then head off. Bye, bye now!” Libia waved once, and then turned around, pu-lling him with her to close the gap between them and the line to Wendy’s that had been created while they…ahem, k!$$£d.
They ordered their food, and Libia had a hvge, liberated smile on her face. “Damon…that felt really good!” She said.
He grinned down at her. “See, Babe? I knew you had it in you.” He knudged her pla-yfully.
After eating, they headed to Pacific Sun, where Damon asked her size, shoved her into a dressing room, and began throwing clothes over the door at her. Grumbling to herself, she threw on an outfit.
“Um, Damian! There is something wrong with this shi-t.” Libia said, tilting her head at the mirror.
“What?” Damon asked. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It st©ps…at my bellybu-tton.” Libia said, her tone incredulous.
Libia heard Damon’s smooth laugh behind the door. “It’s a crop t©p. It’s supposed to do that. Come out, and let me see.” Damon demanded.
“And these shorts don’t even reach mid-th!gh!” Libia exclaimed, ignoring Damon.
“Libia…” Damon held back a gr0@nat the image in his mind. “Let me see.”
Hesitantly, Libia unlocked the door. She pu-ll-ed it open, and revealed herself.
If there were wind in the sto-re, Damon would have fallen over like a piece of precariously balanced wood. He wasn’t breathing, he wasn’t moving, he was just staring.
Libia was blu-shing from her heels to her forehead, as his eyes traveled from her ba-re feet, and up her slender legs. They paused briefly on her stomach, taking in the supple, creamy skin. He noticed a scar leading up from her h!pto a few inches below her ñ@v£l, his f!ngersitched to trace it. His eyes then traveled up a little more, to the revea-ling crop t©p that showed off her perfect brea-sts, and then finally, he met her eyes.
“Perfect.” He breathed.
It was all he could say. All he could think of that would at least explain a tiny bit of what he saw. She was far out of the ‘Perfect’ league. She was exquisite, beautiful, extraordinary, take your pick. They wouldn’t be enough.
Damon’s heart was beating out of his che-st, and he worried that she could hear it.
All the while, Libia was growing redder and redder. “Sh-should I…try something else on?” She asked Damon.
Swallowing thickly, feeling like he hadn’t had water in years, he shook himself from his haze. “Yes. But we’re getting that outfit.” He muttered.
She was afraid he was going to say that.
The rest of the day went by slowly, and painfully. After finding out that she wasn’t allowed to pay for anything, Libia was f0rç£d into sto-re after sto-re. The only sto-re he didn’t make her go into was Victoria Secret. She refused to even think about it.
They were now on the road, the back of the car filled to the brim with bags and boxes, and Damon was interrogating her. “Have you had any prior b©yfri£nds?” He asked her, fli-ckering a glance in her direction.
“What does that matter?” She asked incredulously.
“Just answer the question!” He chuckled.
“I-I guess…I mean I think I had one before.” She shrugged shyly.
The car suddenly j£rked to a st©p, the tires squealing. Libia caught herself by her hands on the dashboard. “Damon!” She exclaimed, seeing that they’d st©pped at a light. Her complaints were silenced, however, as she looked over at him. He had been gaping at her, eyes wi-de with disbelief.
“You think you had one before? How could a girl like you only have one?” He asked incredulously.
Her cheeks flamed in embarras-sment. She was unsure whether he was complimenting her or not.
“I don’t know. Everyone always thought I was a know-it-all.” She shrugged, her voice quiet.
“You’re not a know-it-all. You’re just more mature than most of the students out there.” He said.
This time, her cheeks were red with flattery. “Thank you.”
“Only one b©yfri£nd!” He repeated, aghast.
Libia giggled. “I’m not even sure he was a b©yfri£nd, anyway. I mean, we d@t£d for a few months.”
Libia couldn’t be sure, but she could have sworn he heard him say, “He was an idiot not to make you his.” But she coudn’t be sure. He was too quiet.
The drive was silent after that, until Libia noticed that they were no where near her home.
“Where are we going?” She asked him.
He glanced at her, a big smile forming on his face. “Tell me, Libia, have you ever thought of getting a tattoo?”
“Wh-what?” She stuttered, tensing.
His smile grew bigger. “We’re getting you a tattoo, maybe a piercing…” He listed, not noticing Libia’s growing terror.
“D-doesn’t it hurt?” She squeaked.
He looked at her again, and his smile softened. “I’ll be right there, Libs. Tell you what, we’ll get the piercing first, and then if you’re up for it, we’ll get the tattoo.” He suggested.
“And…how’s this supposed to help me?” She asked him with wi-de eyes.
“Libs, it seems to me like you’ve got more problems then just a messed up d@t£. You can’t do much for yourself. You won’t even tell anyone about your dance clas-s because you’re afraid of what they’d say, right?” He asked her.
“Not true!” Very true. She was terrified of what her brother would think.
“Liar.” He grinned at her. “Take a chance, Libia. Be free for a while.”
“I-I don’t think-”
“Haven’t you ever seen a tattoo that you’ve wanted? That you’ve dreamed of having?” He asked her, serious now.
Libia closed her mouth. There was one that she had saved on her computer. She knew the design, the placement, everything. She was afraid of what her brother would think. She looked up to her brother like a father, and he had high standards for Libia. He always took care of Libia, and steered her away from reckless stuff like this.
But the tattoo…
“Ah! I see the look! You have got one!” Damon accused.
Libia’s cheeks flamed. “There is one…but what if my brother sees it? What if he is ashamed of me?” Libia worried.
Damon looked over at her. “Then he wasn’t a good brother in the first place.”
Libia bit herl-ip. She couldn’t never think of him as a bad brother, but Damon was right, if he shunned her, what did that say about their relationsh!p?
Libia knew her brother. He’d be angry at her at first…very angry…but he’d accept it, because she was his sister, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“He might forbid me from seeing you again.” Libia whispered.
Damon snorted. “Would that st©p you?”
Yes. “No.” She denied.
“Good. Then it won’t st©p me either.”
Libia gulped.
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Tbc