Bad Girl (A Romance Novel)

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Chapter Two.   After a long, long day, Libia ended up jogging home, her headphones in her ear, humming quietly to herself through her heavy breathing. She had to keep in shape for dance class, it was the only rule her teacher gave her. Besides the fact that she loved jogging because of the wind in her face and the liberation it gave, it made her feel somewhat normal. When she ran, she felt like a regular person, instead of a person so shy she could suffocate with it. Her ponytail bounced behind her, following with the beat of the music. She reflected on the day she had with a shake of her head. Johnson, the boy in her science class, wouldn't stop following her. He'd walk her from class to class, speaking to her, even though she rarely spoke back. She couldn't count the glares she was recieving from countless girls, and she didn't like it. Many a time she tried to hint that she didn't want the attention, but he wasn't having it. She was just lucky that Vivi had her sit with her and her group of friends. It seemed she was sitting at a table of missfits. All of them greeted her warmly, and she instantly felt okay with them. She knew that if she said something stupid, they'd laugh it off. She was able to relax. But of course, as soon as she stood from the table and put her tray away, there Johnson was. She was seriously close to just taking off running, extremely embarrassed that she couldn't even look him in the eye.  She also had a few encounters with the boy who caught her. She later found out that his name was Damon Slain. A strange name. She figured out that she had science, art, math, and gym with him, although they were always seperated into different teams, devided by gender. Libia sighed, knowing she'd have to go to work tonight. She had the unfortunate night-shift at the twenty four hour grocery store down the road from her house. Usually she always went for the 10:00 or even the 7:00 but sometimes she was forced into the night shift. She was surprised to see that the house was almost completely free of boxes when she walked through the front door. The living room was completely unpacked, looking nicely decorated, and the kitchen had been set up nicely. "Mom? Ben?" She called. No answer. She must have done this before she went to the hospital. Libia's mom worked the night-shift at the hospital. From eight O clock to six she worked. She came home every morning a few minutes before she had to go to school, and usually she just crashed into bed. Libia felt sorry for mom. She tried hard to work for Ben and Libia.. Ben is her older brother. Usually he's out of the house with his friends. After the move, he went out and quickly made new aquaintances. Libia just sat in her room reading. Libia had no qualms about leaving my home town. After their father left, their mom needed a fresh start, so she applied for a job at the hospital ahead of time, bought a house, and they moved. The only one who had problems was her brother. Ben got his personality from mom. He was a bubbly person that everyone loved, including Libia. Of course, he had good friends back home that he didn't want to lose. Eventually, after one night of seeing their mom come home crying that she couldn't take it anymore, Ben gave in, and agreed to move. Their house was a nice, middle-class, one story house in a suburban area. The living room and the kitchen were seperated by a bar, and a hallway in the kitchen led to two different bedrooms on either side of the wall, while the master bedroom branched out from a door in the living room. Right now, all Libia's bedroom held were posters of her favorite dance-style. Hip Hop. Libia, despite her shy attitude, was always obsessed with Hip Hop, even when she was a little girl. Breakdancing, as some called it, made her feel more alive, and less like the shy girl she used to be. She also had pictures up on her wall of her while she did her dance routines. But that was her class back in her home town. No one, not even her mother knew that she was in this class. She always said that she was going to work when her mother asked. Her mother never came in her room, and when she did, as bubbly as she was, she wasn't vigilant at all. She didn't even notice the pictures. Not even her brother knew.  Not only was did it make her feel like she was finally doing something on her own, without the judgemental eyes of anyone, but she felt that if her mother knew, she'd make a big deal about it, and Libia hated attention. She studied for a few hours, and then changed into a black, tight shirt and tan slacks. After settling her books back on the desk, she grabbed her phone and started out the door. She was startled when she bumped into Ben. "Oh, hey Ben." She greeted with a small smile. He smiled back at her. "Hey Libbi. I want you to meet my friend here, Cam. Cam, this is my sister, Libia." Libia looked behind Ben to see a guy around her age, with soft green eyes and blond hair. "It's nice to meet you." She greeted shyly, before turning back to Ben. "I'm headed to work. Mom needs those energy drinks for her shift tomorrow, so if you drink them tonight, make sure you replace them." She ordered. "Will do Captain." He saluted her playfully. She gave a teasing smile as she saluted him back. "See you later. It was nice meeting you Cam." She called in a soft voice, heading down the sidewalk. "Be careful!" Ben called. "Ha!" Libia said, rolling her eyes. After a five minute jog, Libia entered the store, waving to Val, her co-worker to signal that she was off. Val let out a sigh of relief and waved back, beginning to gather her things. Libia spoke to her for a few minutes, before she left. She and a few others were the only ones working tonight, and she was mostly just standing at the register, fiddling with the codes for different foods. Someone entered the store, much to her surprise, but she didn't look up as she bit her lip, trying to remember the code for asparagus.  "Hey Lib, you got a minute to look at this thing?" One of her co-workers, Bennett asked. Bennett is an old man, his hair shot with grey and his eyes framed with wrinkles. Many times a night he'll ask Libia to look at a machine he's having a problem with - Libia has always had a knack for fixing things. Everything's a puzzle to her. "Sure Benny." She murmured, walking over to see what was wrong. She was busy, with wire cutters and a wrench, fixing the coin machine. There was a problem with the screen, every time you would press a button, the backlight would flicker. "Libia?" She heard the unmistakable voice of Damon. She paused, looking up. A small smile made it's way to her face, more comfortable with herself when not under the eyes of hundreds of people. "Damon." She greeted softly, her cheeks tinging red. His eyes flickered to the coin machine. "What are you doing?" "There's a problem with the coin machine. A short in one of the wires. Needs re-wiring is all." She explained, pushing the panel back into place and shutting the door. She stood up, brushing her pants off. "What are you doing here so late?" She asked. He glanced down at the basket he had in his hand. "I'm with a few friends. They dissapeared somewhere...you know how to fix this stuff?" He asked, eyeing her skeptically. She let out a soft laugh, taking his basket from him and taking it to the register. "Yes. All it takes is a little bit of puzzle-solving and tinkering." "Huh." He said simply, watching as she began to ring up his items. She looked up at him, absently sliding a bottle of soda over the scanner. "What?" "You're one of those people." He said vaguely. She crinkled an eyebrow, giving him a timidly amused glance. "One of what people?" "One of those super-geniuses. Tell me - what comes to mind when I say the square root of 35?" "That's easy, it's five," She answered immediately, and then added, "But I'm not a genius. I just study." She shrugged. He let out a laugh that was surprisingly loud. "Sure." She didn't answer, mostly because his laugh was like silk. It sent chills down her spine, but warmth flooded her veins at the same time. "That's twenty five thirty six." She murmured, glancing up at him. He pulled out his wallet, handing her a fifty. "So, I hear that Johnson kid has been following you around like a lost puppy." Damon commented as she counted out the change. Her cheeks reddened. "I wish he wouldn't." Damon raised an eyebrow, so she explained, "I don't like attention, especially when jealous girls are involved." She murmured. Damon was definitely intrigued now by the strange girl. He watched her hair, which she'd let down from it's ponytail, fall over her shoulder as she reached down to grab something from under the counter. The black shirt she wore was skillfully showing off her soft curves. Her eyes - when they met his, which was rarely - were so soft and chocolatey brown that he could get lost in their depths. Right then, he wanted her. Not just in his bed, as he's had many before, but to be his. He wanted her to take the chance with Johnson, so he'll leave her, and she'll come running to him. He knew it was a cruel thing to hope for, but it would be the only way she would accept him. This was a process. Johnson breaks her heart, she runs to Damon, and Damon changes her - for the better - while also, in the process, makes her his. It wasn't going to be easy, but Damon loved a challenge, and it was going to be a damn fun one. Libia, oblivious to Damon's devious thought process, handed him his change and gave a shy smile. "I hope you find your friends." He smiled back, although his was much more charming and confident, and it held a secret amusement, as if there was a joke that she was missing. "Thanks." He replied, making sure their hands brushed when he grabbed the money from her

Okay o, nxt.

@fb-danieledem please come with the register... @Maths, @LadyG, @henrymary this story is goin to be interesting fah...

Yea @emreks i feel so.

Wahooo good beginning, continue

@emreks yea the starting make sence so let continue

interesting indeed, pls ride on

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. "Rough 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 class, Ms. Fields. Sleeping is for your bed!" 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 gasped. "An hour, Ms. Fields. Maybe you think next time before you doze in my class." 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 needed this money to add to her college fund. How could her teacher be so cruel? Libia had a tightening in her chest. She had work after class. 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 needed 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 class on Friday. "Mrs. Gable." Libia heard a smooth voice call. "Yes, Mr. Breaker?" Mrs. Gable asked politely. "Libia is a good student with top notch grades. She has a job that keeps her up late at night. I'm sure if she could have, she would paid rapt attention to you." Johnson said calmly. Libia cringed, afraid she'd hear another outburst from the teacher. But Mrs. Gable simply stared at Johnson for a few seconds, and then shifted her gaze to Libia. "I understand. I am sorry for the outburst, Ms. Fields. I won't give you a detention slip. Just please pay attention in my class 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, sending Johnson a glance that thanked him way more than words could. He gave a small smile, nodding once. The rest of the class went by without a hitch, as Libia made sure to pay rapt 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 her lips 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 needed 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 slipped 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 date 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 class 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 kiss on her cheek that had her burning with embarrassment. He stooped down, grabbing 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 kiss on 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 wide 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 grabbed 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 stop squeezing." I rolled my eyes. His grip loosened, but he was still walking briskly, making me run to keep up. "Hey, Libia- whoa, what's going on?" Cameron, 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 came striding 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, Cameron Garb came out, watching Libia with raised eyebrows. He assumed 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 rubber out of the lot, disappearing down the road. Cameron shook his head. "Don't know. Boyfriend? Friend? Brother?" He shrugged.   "Slow down!" Libia yelled, holding tightly to the safety bar. They peeled into the driveway, slamming into a stop. He was out of the car before the keys could be pulled 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 grabbed 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, ready 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 apart. "Okay. Let's be adults here, hmm?" "Adults my-" She slapped a hand over her mother's mouth. "Adults." She repeated in a hard 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. Making 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 resented 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 blow. Libia's father looked at her in surprise. "Mom is trying really hard 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 forced 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 resentful 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, kissed him on the cheek, and left him there. Her father stared after Libia's retreating figure, shocked. He rubbed his face, remourse weighing his heart. What had he done?

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Chapter Four.   Libia hadn't heard from her father, but her mother was now in another bout of sadness. Her eyes were always saddened, and her smile never seemed to brighten her whole face. Libia was beyond angry at her father for showing up unnanounced like that.  People in school were whispering about the appearance of Ben. Wondering who he was, mostly. Why he was dragging her away. Her friends were the only ones that knew what happened yesterday. She'd spent her entire day at school excited, getting ready for dance class. Her eyes were brighter, and her smile, too. Everyone seemed to notice the change. Johnson assumed confidently that it was him asking her out on a date that put the light in her eyes. Little did he know, that was far in the back of Libia's mind. Dance always came first, for Libia. So she skipped from class, smiling eagerly to herself. She'd perposely walked to school, so she could feel the warm air on her skin and warm up before she got there. She loved walking. Libia looked around to make sure no one could see her, and she started down the sidewalk. No one could know about her danceing. She'd make sure no one knew. Little did she know, Damon was watching her as she suspitiously swept the area. He was sitting on a bench in the park that stretched out beside the school. He watched with raised eyebrows as she quickly began walking in the direction of the town. Where was she going? He checked his watch. He had to be in class in twenty minutes. He had plenty of time to drive there. It takes about five minutes to get there by car. Libia swept into the class, giving a bright smile to her teacher. Her teacher smiled back at the girl. Libia had been a valuable dancer in the teacher's eyes. "Hello, Ms. Vans." Libia greeted as she headed off to change. "Hey Libs." She greeted back. Libia pulled on her tights, and a white T-shirt, pulling her long hair back in a ponytail.  When she came back out, Ms. Vans stopped her. "We've got a long-time student coming back today, Libs. He'll be your partner, since you're the only one who doesn't have one. I think you and him will really be good together." She explained. Libia felt her cheeks flame. Dancing with a partner. She'd only ever done that once, and the partner had been gay. He was extremely talented when in the zone, and crazy funny when he just hung out with her. She swallowed nervously and then nodded, not wanting to dissapoint her teacher. Well, well, well. Damon thought, a big smile taking over his face as he pulled into the lot and saw Libia through the glass windows. Fragile little Libia's got a secret.  He imagined this was the dance partner Ms. Vans was raving about. He just imagined having her in his arms, watching her perfect body move and twist in sync with the music. He wanted her so much more, if that was possible. So he swung out of his car, walking confidently up to the door. Libia turned her head at the sound of the door opening, the little bells hanging on the handle jingled and clanked together. Her eyes widened to saucers as they met a tight black shirt, and moved up, meeting those unmistakable blue eyes. Oh no. Oh no. Ms. Vans squealed and hugged the boy, and he smirked at Libia over the over-joyed teacher's shoulder. "It's so good to see you again." Ms. Vans gushed, pulling back. Damon grinned down at the woman. "You too." Ms. Vans rushed over to Libia, dragging her across the room. "Damon Slain, this is your dance partner, Libia Fields. Now be nice to her, alright? You two are a team from here on out." Ms. Vans said, mainly looking at Damon. Damon gave his teacher an innocent smile. "Who said I wasn't going to be nice?" Libia was silent, her breathing slightly shallower as she stared up, wide eyed in panic at the boy.  "Ms. Vans, I need to talk to Damon alone for a moment." Libia murmured, her voice breathless. Damon casually followed her to a quieter part of the room, and then she turned to him. "Damon, listen to me, you can't tell anyone about me being here. No one." She insisted, grabbing his arm when he looked away. He looked at the contact with surprise, electricity zinging through him, making him feel more alive. His eyes trailed up her small arm, then her shoulder, her neck, and then finally, her eyes. She stared at him urgently, although he could see the blush tinging her cheeks pink. He felt...good, knowing a secret that no one else knew. It was something that they shared, and only them. "I won't-" "I'm serious, Damon. Not my mother, not my brother. No one can hear a word of this." She interrupted. Surprising her, he shrugged off the hand on her arm and gripped her biceps, dragging her closer. "I won't. Say. Anything." He said, his voice deep and sinuous. Libia could feel her cheeks burning, as she stared up at him. "O-okay." He smiled and let her go. "Come on. Ms. Vans is excited to see what we can do...and quite frankly, I want to see what that tiny body of yours is really capable of." He murmured. Libia gasped, her eyes snapping back up to his from where they'd strayed to the floor. That was not a sexual innuendo...was it? No. Of course not. Get your mind out of the gutter! She mentally smacked herself and turned away from him. She walked over to where she'd plugged her phone in, turning on her favorite song to dance to. Ms. Vans wanted them to dance seperately at first, and then choreograph something later. So Libia closed her eyes for a moment when she took her place in the middle of the wood floors. And then her eyes snapped open with the beat, and she began moving. Her body twisted and her hair whipped around, as she ran forward and dropped, sliding on her knees for a few seconds before she sinuously jumped up, moving her feet expertly. Damon watched, leaning on the wall beside Ms. Vans, whom was quivering with excitement and pride, as the seemingly quiet, shy, goody-two-shoes girl pulled some moves that could only be explained as sexy. Sexy as hell. She was like a tiger with how effortless the dancing seemed for her. Before any of them wanted it to, the song ended, and Libia ended her dance in perfect sync. Her chest heaved, and her smile was one of bliss. It struck Damon to realize just how much Libia loved to dance.  They passed each other, and Damon brushed his hand on her arm and whispered, "Nice job, Babe." Libia felt a shiver wrack her body, and she blushed. *** She was jogging home, her music blasting in her ears. She felt the wind in her face, as she relished in the feel stretching her legs. She decided to forgo the Starbucks route, seeing as she had a date tonight. She felt her gut tighten at the thought, a strange feeling of unease taking over, but she decided it was just nerves. Libia had always had a good sense of intuition. Something she inherited from her mother. About the only thing. Her mother had a strong feeling that her father had been up to something that she wouldn't like. She'd always felt a strong urge to call work and ask if he was still there when he said he'd be staying late. But she didn't for a long time, partly scared of what she'd find, and partly knowing that it was her husband, and that she needed to trust him. But, Libia didn't want to analize this unease she felt. She simply passed it off as having not been on a date in quite some time. She arrived home and was planning on going straight to her room, but she was surprised to find Ben slumped over with his head in his hands and his elbows on the counter. His back was to her, but he knew she was there, having heard the door open and close. "Ben...?" Libia asked softly, settling a hand on his back. He let out a heavy sigh, saying in a rough voice, "Hey...Libs." "What's wrong?" Libia asked in concern, hearing the pain in his voice. "It's...it's nothin'...just...Dad asked me to move back with him...to get to know my half sister." Ben muttered. Libia felt anger and pain for her brother. "He has no right to ask that of you!" "I want to know her, Libia...she's my half sister, but I can't stand the thought of...of them! Together! All lovey-dovey like him and mom used to be." Ben clenched his fists. "I understand." Libia murmured, wrapping her arms around his waist and lying her head on his back. "I don't want to see it either. But that is our little half sister. No matter where she came from, she's family." "I won't move back with him. I refuse to do it." He muttered, and Libia felt his back tense with anger. "You don't have to. Tell Dad that if he wants us to meet her, than he'll bring her here. If he doesn't do that, then we'll arrange a meeting, just her and us. We'll have lunch together, or we can take her to the peir." She murmured to calm him down, patting his chest like she used to do when they were little. She felt and heard him take a huge breath, and moved back as he stood up. He turned around and enveloped his little sister in a big hug. "Thanks, Libs." She smiled when he let her go. "No problem. Now I have to go and get ready." She turned to go, but Ben stopped her. "Get ready for what?" Libia smiled up at him. "I'm going on a date." Ben's eyebrows furrowed, and he took the "protective stance." As Libia called it. He crossed his arms, puffed out his chest, and stared down at Libia with a fatherly look of dubiousness. "Who is he?" Libia giggled. "His name his Johnson Breaker." "How old is he?" Ben interrogated. "Eighteen." Libia rolled her eyes. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, before his stance relaxed slightly. "Okay. If he tries anything I want you to knock him on his ass, kick him in the nuts, and call me, alright?" Libia had to laugh. This was a lecture he gave every time she went on a date. Even when she was asked by this really nerdy kid, Carl. She was fourteen years old at the time, and she was starting to blossom into a beautiful young lady. Carl had been a good friend, so she kindly accepted his offer to date. He was a nice, shy kid. They dated twice before they figured out that it wasn't working for them. Ben had told her the exact same motto. Knock 'em on their ass, Kick 'em in the nuts, and call him. "I promise." She assured. She turned and ran up the stairs, finally feeling a little bit of giddiness enter her system. She was going on a casual date to this pizza place. So, after showering, she dressed in a red sweater and black jeans, throwing on some flats. She slapped on some eyeliner and some mascara, swiftly putting on some lip gloss. She left her hair down, knowing that she'd need it when she wanted to hide her face from him, and left it naturally wavy. Libia got her black hair from her mother. Her mother's mother was from India. Both of her granparents are Indian. Of course Libia is only half Indian, with only her exotic black hair to show for it. Sometimes Libia gets tired of her hair, but right now it was her saving grace. She needed it like a blanket of protection. Her brother was half Indian, but he got brown hair from her father. It was a strange thing. All of the girls on her mothers side of the family have black hair, but the men rarely do. When a knock came at the front door downstairs, Libia felt herself tense. She took off downstairs, racing Ben and shoving him away before he could open the door and completely embarrass her. She smoothed her shirt and fixed her hair, and then opened the door. Johnson smiled in at her, and then raised an eyebrow at her slightly heaving chest, and ruffled appearance. "Hi, Johnson." She greeted, smiling like an idiot. "Hey, Libia. Were you running a marathon?" He asked. "More like wrestling me." Ben muttered, straightening his shirt as he stepped back in the doorway. Johnson felt himself tense. Uh-oh. Big brother. Not good. He took in the guy as he crossed his arms over his chest, hovering behind Libia. A protective big brother. Shit. "Remember what I said, Libs?" Ben asked her. Libia rolled her eyes. "Yes. Johnson, this is Ben, my brother." Libia introduced. "Nice to meet you." Johnson said respectively. Ben gave a nod, which intimidated Johnson more. Libia rolled her eyes, stepping out of the house and slamming the door closed behind her. "Don't worry about him. He does that crap with everyone I associate with." Libia muttered. Johnson gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah. Let's go." *** "So what's your favorite color?" Johnson asked Libia. They were sitting in the corner of the pizza parlor, sharing a small pizza between them. The parlor wasn't busy, in fact there were only a handfull of people in the restaurant with them. Libia shrugged, swallowing a piece of pizza before speaking, "I'd say it was green. You know, like moss on a tree green. I'd always loved foresty colors and themes. What about you?" Libia took a sip of her drink. "Right now?" Libia nodded in reply. "Brown. Chocolate brown." Her cheeks turned bright red. "That's nice." "Yeah. With little specs of gold." He hinted. Libia couldn't help the giggle, and hid her red cheeks with her hair. "What flowers do you prefer?" Johnson fired off again. "Um...I've always been partial to Lilies." Libia answered, playing with the table top. "Hmm." A slow grin spread across his face. "What is your favorite food?" "Bacon." Libia answered without thinking, and then she blushed. "A girl with an appetite. I like it." Johnson replied, taking a bite of his pizza. Libia laughed again. "You should laugh more. I like your laugh." Johnson murmured, leaning forward. Libia felt shyness creep up, as she looked down at her lap. Johnson reached across the table, surprising her by lifting her chin. "Hi." He whispered when her eyes met his. A slow smile spread across her face. "Hi." He sat back, his eyes twinkling with an unknown emotion. "What do you prefer, Titanic, or Taken?" Libia knew what he was asking, suspense, or romance?  "Taken. It's fun to watch Liam Neeson beat the crap out of people. Gives you a sense of justice." Libia explained. He grinned again. "I see." "What about you? You enjoy Titanic on the weekends?" Libia teased. "You know it. I just love listening to Sarah McLaughlin belt out belt out that beautiful, yet cliche song that everyone and their granny knows." "It's Celine Dion." Libia pointed out. "Whatever." Libia had to laugh. And then, as a demonstration, Johnson got up, grabbed Libia's hand, and began dancing with her in the middle of the restaurant, singing the Titanic theme song. Libia was laughing as her cheeks turned incredibley pink and she buried her face instinctually in his chest in embarrassment.   They finished their pizza, and then Johnson stood up. "I'll be right back. I forgot my wallet in the car." Libia nodded up at him, smiling. He paused for a moment, before he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to her, right on the lips. Libia watched, in a daze, as he exited the building for the moment. Johnson smiled like the devil as he made his way out. His wallet was in his back pocket. Bailey sat on the hood of his car. "Ready, Babe?" She asked him with a seductive smile. "Oh yeah." Johnson said, opening the door for her to get in. Libia heard the roar of an engine. And she looked up...just in time to see Johnson back out of his space, with Bailey Summers, a girl from her school in the seat beside him. He gave her a two-fingered wave, as she stood from her seat. She just stood there, staring out the window as he laughed, his face cruel, and sped out of the lot. So...all this was for a free meal? A chance to hurt a girl's feelings?  Well, he did a damned good job. Libia felt her self-esteem drop to zero. Humiliation ignited in her gut, twisting and tightening. She felt tears pour down her cheeks. It had been an experiment, a scam. The bastard had even kissed her!  She furiously wiped her mouth as she pulled out her wallet with trembling hands. She went up to the counter, cheeks stained with tears, and began pulling out her money. "Don't worry about it, Hon. It's on the house."  Libia looked up with her hurt eyes at the italian-looking man behind the counter. His gruff voice was grim, and his mouth was pressed into a thin line. He planned on hunting down that little jerk-off and making him pay every scent. "Oh, no I couldn't-" Her shaky, almost sobbing reply was cut off. "Don't you dare pull out that money, Darlin'." This time it was a woman's voice. Libia looked behind the man to find a petite, rounded woman with fiery red hair and hard green eyes. Her nametag said Jan. Libia sniffled. "Thank you." "Do you need us to call someone? Or at least a cab to get you home?" Libia shook her head. "I'll be okay. M-my house is just a few blocks from here." The two watched the dejected girl walk from the restaurant, head down, lip between her teeth. Everyone in the parlor was watching, in fact.  "Crete, get that kid's picture posted up on the wall. I can't wait to kick him out next time he comes." Jan said to her husband. "Done and done." He replied. Libia began running as soon as the door shut behind her, her eyes blurry with tears. She only got a few feet before she rammed into a hard body. Arms wrapped around her waist to keep her from falling, and the guy stumbled back a bit. "I-I'm sorry." Libia sobbed. "Whoa, whoa. Libia, what happened?" She almost instantly recognized the voice. "D-Damon?" She asked, looking up with watery eyes. Sure enough, those familiar blue eyes were looking down at her with questions flooding them, his eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah. What happened?" He repeated. Libia pulled away from Damon, wrapping her arms around herself. "He ditched me!" She cried. He raised his eyebrows, having never seen her so out of sorts. "What? What are you talking-" "I was on a date with Johnson The-Heart Breaker! He got a pizza, we ate it, and then he left! He ditched me. I had ten dollars in my wallet, Damon. Ten fucking dollars! He danced with me, he asked me what flowers I liked...he fucking kissed me! And then...and then..." Libia felt her eyes well up again. "And then he got in his car with Bailey Summers and drove away." Damon saw red. "He kissed you." Libia looked up at him, almost unable to see him through her tears. It was a good thing, too. In their close proximity, Libia probably would have turned to ash under his rage-filled gaze.  "Yes. He kissed me." Damon clenched his fists and took deep breaths, getting his jealousy under control before he had to rip Johnson a new one. This was his plan, was it not? To get Johnson to screw up, and then move in. But damn it was hard to do. "Damn sweet-talking moron. 'Brown. Chocolate brown. With little specs of gold.' My ass!" She ranted. Damon could feel his anger subsiding, and surprise taking it's place. He'd never heard her curse before. It was surprisingly sexy. He'd never even heard her raise her voice as much as she had. Damon decided it was time to lay his offer on the table. "Gee, Johnson's a real ass, isn't he?" He hedged. Libia nodded, crossing her arms indignantly. "Not only an ass. An ass-hole!" "I bet you'd like to get back at him good, wouldn't you?" Damon inched his way towards her. She was too caught up in her anger and her hurt, glaring angrily at nothing in particular as she crossed her arms. "Got that right. I'm going to kick his ass to Memphis." Libia growled. Suddenly, Damon grabbed her up. She let out a cry in surprise, and suddenly she was flush against Damon's chest. His hot breath hit her face, as his blue eyes bored into hers. "How about something along the lines of showing him what he missed?" Damon suggested. She swallowed thickly, suddenly the quiet girl he met in school. "W-what?" "Change, Libia. Become someone that Johnson will drool over. Let him know what he missed out on. Be a bad girl." Damon rumbled, the sound of his voice reverberating through her chest. "A-a bad girl?" She repeated dumbly. "No more stuttering. No more innocent looks, no more avoiding people. Wear your uniform like you're a model and the school is your cat walk. Put on a smile that says 'Fuck you, world.' Be who I know you are. Who I know you really are." Damon muttered. "H-how?" Libia whispered, staring up at him with wide eyes. A slow grin spread across his face. "I'll show you, Babe."

naxo e start

Hmmm...

Okay o.

Next

Love you Damon, next please

next ooo

Chapter Five.   Libia pushed away from him. "N-no. I can't. That's not me." Damon pulled 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 class. 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 pulled 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 ready 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 came out, as they came 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 pull 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 badass you can be." He grinned up at her, pulling 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 under her. She let out a shriek, 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 wrapping them around his waist. "You might want to hold onto me, Babe." And then the bike roared to life beneath them. Libia yelped in fright, as she pulled herself closer to Damon, wrapping her arms around his waist. She could feel him laughing at her, so she lifted her head and cried in his ear, "Quit laughing!" This only made him laugh harder, as they pulled 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 trap 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 brought a feeling of exhileration to life that she didn't know was in her. Her stomach dropped when he turned, making a nervous giggle escape.  She was almost dissapointed when he came to a stop at a stop 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 passed it!" "Shit, hang on!" He yelled back. He slowed to a stop 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, pulling 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 pulled 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 fingers through her hair. "Is that better?" Damon shook his head, and boldly pulled her closer. He threaded his fingers through her hair, carefully dragging them down to smooth the tangles. Her eyes were wide, 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 winked, 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 consent. Her mind wasn't even on Johnson anymore. Her smiled dropped when her brother's angered voice traveled throughout 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 dates.  "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 touching you like that?" He fired off questions, making 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 through her teeth. "Damon's a friend-" "That move he pulled 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 burst 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 sentence." 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. Part of her wanted to crawl into a hole and wither into nothing. Another part of her wanted to rise above it all and show everyone just how strong she could be. The part 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 underneath the covers and snuggled into her bed, 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 chest. She refused to believe the reaction was anything more than physical attraction. It was an easy explanation - Who wouldn't be attracted to him? Libia knew that he wasn't attracted 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. Groaning, Libia dragged herself out of bed, stumbling like every morning into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth like a zombie before jumping in the shower. The scalding hot 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-shirts of all kinds, lots of sweaters, jeans, and only a few pairs of ripped shorts 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 shirts. Maybe that's what he means. She needs 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 grabbed a white knit sweater, throwing on a tank top underneath. She slipped 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 sleeping off the night shift. That woman could sleep through an earth quake. Libia made her way through 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. Ready?" 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 wide with curiosity, as he unlocked the car and pulled 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 assume 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 riding 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 pulling out. "Nope." Libia popped the 'P' flippantly 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 already packed, despite it being nine fifteen in the morning. Libia could feel herself closing off, and her shy side was beginning to cover the brave. 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, making sure she was tucked safely into his side.  Libia felt her cheeks heat up at the contact, but was thankful he understood. 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 "Date" he had. "I totally got her under my spell. All I had to do was compliment her eyes and bam! She was all mine." Johnson laughed, pulling 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 wide eyes, and hers grew equally wide 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 bitch." Dan muttered. "What about Mc. Donalds?" Libia suggested as they walked into the food court. Damon pulled 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 burst 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 already 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 under his arm as she followed his gaze, and gave her shoulders a squeeze.  "Let's go get Wendy's. I can deal with a redhead in pigtails staring at me." He suggested, steering her away. She shot 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, kiss me." Damon ordered. "W-what?" She asked in surprise. "Kiss me. You want to show him that you're over him. Kiss me." He repeated, turning to her and cupping her face in both his hands. Libia couldn't think. Before she even had time to blink his lips 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 kissed 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 wet and gross and she never wanted to experience it again. But with Damon, there was no thought. She moved her lips with his on instinct, and it wasn't wet or gross, it was warm and soft. Sparks ignited inside of her, and electricity flowed like blood through her veins. The hair on his chin tickled hers, adding to the experiance, and making her want to be closer to him. Her hands made their way up his muscular chest, to his neck. She traveled up until she felt the stubble on his chin, and then reached their destination, entangling in his hair. She needed air, and Damon sensed it, as he pulled away. They were both gasping. Damon didn't expect to have that kind of reaction to their lips 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 kissed her. He wanted her to remember this kiss. This was the kiss he wanted her to think about at night. Hell, he wanted to be thinking about it at night. He loved how her lips 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...kissing! Oh my god. Libia thought, her cheeks flaming. We kissed! 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 under Johnson's arm. "Nothing much. We were just wondering...why you guys were here." Johnson had to swallow mid-sentance, 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 stopped for icecream first. He asked me to come with him to the mall today as sort of a...date." 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, pulling him with her to close the gap between them and the line to Wendy's that had been created while they...ahem, kissed. They ordered their food, and Libia had a huge, 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 playfully.   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 shirt." Libia said, tilting her head at the mirror. "What?" Damon asked. "What's wrong with it?" "It stops...at my bellybutton." Libia said, her tone incredulous. Libia heard Damon's smooth laugh behind the door. "It's a crop top. It's supposed to do that. Come out, and let me see." Damon demanded. "And these shorts don't even reach mid-thigh!" Libia exclaimed, ignoring Damon. "Libia..." Damon held back a groan at the image in his mind. "Let me see." Hesitantly, Libia unlocked the door. She pulled it open, and revealed herself. If there were wind in the store, 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 blushing from her heels to her forehead, as his eyes traveled from her bare 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 hip to a few inches below her navel, his fingers itched to trace it. His eyes then traveled up a little more, to the revealing crop top that showed off her perfect breasts, 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 chest, 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 forced into store after store. The only store 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 boyfriends?" He asked her, flickering 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 jerked to a stop, the tires squealing. Libia caught herself by her hands on the dashboard. "Damon!" She exclaimed, seeing that they'd stopped at a light. Her complaints were silenced, however, as she looked over at him. He had been gaping at her, eyes wide with disbelief. "You think you had one before? How could a girl like you only have one?" He asked incredulously. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment. 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 boyfriend!" He repeated, aghast. Libia giggled. "I'm not even sure he was a boyfriend, anyway. I mean, we dated 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 wide eyes. "Libs, it seems to me like you've got more problems then just a messed up date. You can't do much for yourself. You won't even tell anyone about your dance class 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 her lip. 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 relationship? 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 stop you?" Yes. "No." She denied. "Good. Then it won't stop me either." Libia gulped.

Road to been a slay queen...

issorite

Episode 6 con land abeg mek una show @babe4biola @sofia @ritagold @kuks @frankkay @pearl @originalannchilexdel @evanz @fridex @jclash @gracy @itzshaxee @simzy @chomyline @pheranmmie041 @temmyjoy @fb- itzonome @youngben @bouqui1st @bouqui1st @chriswayne @mecuze @skookum @jerrie @john451 @kniphemi @emmanesth @horpheyehmy @justify @maurice @kemkit @adeyoola @jummy @thankmic @kpumpy @christopher @anita @phinebraim @kedike @saintkenz @december12 @promise @sylvia @bsam @portable @cherryserah @steph @aarti @invincible @olaking3 @prince @azeeco @temmymofrosh @vizkid @sandra @sandy @hollar @kaysmart22 @sexynikky1994 @davick @youngestprince @semilore @oyindamola @ladygrasha @dhemilade1 @mature @peacebright @franklin @kolababs @mhzzrblayse @smilie @borwerleh @iksqueency @loveth @funmilayo1 @okklad @nizzy @flames @tony @vict-vames @stanny39 @softtouch @onahsunday631 @ele @jeddy @sonshine @sirgentle @hoelhay @aminzy @eben @teesolid @omoyemmy @olarach @daxking @krizzy @holarbordah @firstladyontop @softie @obaby @sergentmax @mhizdaofot @pappyjay @c-roderick @cookey @isabella1 @chisomsophia @mrfabulous @henry @mubarak @mhizzthessy @millz @abevica @individual @youngfellow @humblelion @natasha9976 @hartuny @jimmyjab @arosunshine @heartbrokekid @thosiano @peterox @sapiens @paula4eva @iamsmv @adegunle3gmail-com @yemitefestus @omoniyiola @inifek @skulboy @nheemot @deejaygrin @hitiswell @fynboy @whizjay @oshio @shikoleen @queencoded @vicoch @kimmy @ifeoma1 @nobleay @felixharuna11 @ibktemi99 @sanctus4real @bolaji2308 @damzybabe @profeze1 @horlarjuwhon @illusion002 @royzeray @chinenye5404 @dharmex @emileagosu @fb-danieledem @pharouq00 @saraya @blazeb @virtuous @ennyshow @haryormidey @mzz_teddy @daddyd @emergencia @ryder @fb-aguamimu @cassiewells @judiee @omoshalewa @nheemot @rukibaby19 @ugochisunday @micheal1 @certifiedjx @wumyte @jokqees @temmyluv @oyefestus @coolbaby @ewosboi @lilfresh @phauzy @princeocity @ocpresh @sahent @horgzy @amibabe @bayslaw007 @saviour @damsyn @fortune @ernesto @light1259 @adeyemi @wisesam @bankykay @gaman @kingj @rossi @danielbrown @aanu001 @klaussimbo @princekidhonest @lilpaco @cheta @zach100 @pelumi99 @phaicynxsmith @macaveli @mizzykevin @gorgeousdammie @froshberry-2 @emperorsndyheartless @maltty @chidij1 @mavbirth @niceoneofficial @jacopet @wizy308 @coolval222-2 @olorivicky @shaklef @mackabsolute @nakam @ladyg @wizzyg @vivian @paula4eva @fb- etimaumoren @pappyjay @pesman @charliebryn @emmazzy @itzprince @youngmiss @vikkychidi94 @faith @nkem @sabinto @bestabbey @pearlily @damariseze @oluwaslimzy @calebdanny @frank @wisdomifeanyi80 @olushegzy @delexzy01 @luvlydamsel @hormortiyor @fb-mhizlilygold @elisco1453 @fb-meritjohnson @mikelrado7 @fb-joshuajohn @fb-surevincopet @fb-nontexdick @confidencechiamaka09yahoo-com @jehliohn @jessyjenny @jimmartin @mrchiller @fb-roseaweyo @kingsbest @judith08 @dijose10 @pizzaro @fb-emiolablessing @fb-ajanimoses @fb-ayindeadebayoabayomi @merjos @kuzzybhankz @wilson555 @fb-ireoluwaemmanuel @sexy2017 @mickybrown @prosperyeboahgmail-com @fb-chancedegreatboy @fb-milesoz @fb-giddi-igoyaitz @fb-johnblack @fb-itzreindy @horlarmy @truthabeexs34 @danielj14 @fb-ahkeh @fb-etzslimv @fawzee @ladyg @henrymary @sommite @maths @kelly-kelvin @princejace @c-jay @fb-hunwisamuel @emreks @appleboi @harzaroboy com @ read oo