Bad Girl. by E Z (classic novels to read .TXT) 📕

"And another thing," She said, "You're not to see Damon. I understand that school is a given, but I want you to cut ties with him. This isn't you, Libia," The words that Libia dreaded hearing caused her to flinch. "He may have saved your life, but he's changing you for the worst."

Libia looked up with the last bit of fight she had in her, eyes incredulous. "You can't just-,"

"I can, and I will," She snapped, cutting Libia off.

Libia felt herself retreat back into her hole. It was a familiar feeling that she'd experienced many times before. She could see the dissaproval in her mother's gaze. The look that she didn't know her anymore. She was thinking that this wasn't her Libia. She could feel that look pull up the insecurities that were so familiar. She was close with her family, but at these times, she realized just how little they really knew her. 

Or did they? Was this really the Libia they knew? She couldn't help but feel doubt. Did she make a mistake? Was Libia the mature, sweet girl she grew up to be, or was she the confident, slightly immature girl that Damon had brought out of her? Her mind spun with the doubt that clouded it. The doubt that nothing but her mother's words could bring out of her.

And suddenly she was back to the beginning. She was brought back to square one, where logic ruled and spontaneity was supressed. She was just normal Libia once again.

She lowered her head, murmured a soft, "Sorry," and then made her way past them.

Ben couldn't believe it. He'd seen the change happen right before his eyes, like an illusion brought into the light. The fire faded, the eyes became rounder and more vulnerable, she even looked smaller. When had she begun to look taller? When had that fire lit? When had she gone from his shy little sister to this confident, boisterous person that he couldn't reach? It was like a weight that he'd never noticed was there until it was gone. And suddenly it was so apparent that he wondered how he never noticed it before.

He could feel himself wanting to speak, but what would he say? Would he try to defend her? What words would come out of his mouth if he opened it at that moment? He didn't know, which was why he kept his lips sealed, and simply watched her leave the room.

When they were left alone, Ben looked at his mother, and he knew she'd seen it too. But what shocked him was, that as she stared at the ground, the look she held was not surprise, but guilt.

"I know how free she is," She whispered, and her eyes turned up to him. "I know how free she can be. I made a mistake though, letting her test that freedom. She's more strongwilled than you and I put together - if I let it get any farther, we'll lose her. Just like I lost your father."

Ben watched with wide eyes as she turned and left the room, listening to her footsteps, and finally the door shutting behind her. What had he done? Slowly, he let himself down onto the chair behind him, eyes staring at nothing in particular as they were stuck in their wide-set gaze.

For a long time, he sat staring at the wall, repeating the conversation he'd just heard in his head. He felt as if he'd heard those words many times before, but he couldn't pinpoint where. He tried to remember, but it must have been when he was young, because his memory was fuzzy - it was like trying to pull a file that wasn't there from an empty cabinet.

Finally, he gave up, and pulled out his phone. He dialed the one number he dreaded ever using - his father's.

For a minute, all he heard was the monotonous ring as he waited for someone to pick up, and finally, there was a click.

"Hello."

"Ah...hey dad."

"Ben!" He said, obviously surprised, his voice fading off at the last syllable as he checked the caller ID, "Why are you calling so early, is something wrong?"

"Does Mom have...manipulative tendencies?" He cringed at the word, but it was the only thing he could describe it as.

There was nothing but silence on the other line, before six, flat and blatant words were spoken.

"What did she say to her?"

After explaining what happened to Vivi, and getting a wrought-iron talk about how she was who she wanted to be and whoever told her otherwise needed to shut their mouths and sit down, Libia recieved a call from a very distressed Ben.

"Hey, um...," His voice shook, and she knew the tone well.

"What did you do?" She groaned, and Damon looked at her in question.

He cleared his throat on the other line, "I-I kind of met up with Dad...and um...you know we talked...and uh...he asked about D-...Damon...,"

Libia flickered a glance at Damon, and then let out a curse under her breath.

"Why'd you meet with Dad? And why did he ask about Damon? And why didn't you avoid the subject?" She was speaking through her teeth towards the end, and a bit unhappy.

"I-It didn't cross my mind that I'd start babbling!" He exclaimed. "Anyway...well I started babbling. He wants you and Damon over here. Now."

"Now? I'm in school, Ben," She hissed at him.

"I know. I told him that."

Her eyes stared blankly at the wall as a vision of Damon's head on a pike crossed her mind. If her father would pull her out of school, and tell her to bring talked-about boyfriend, she knew that she was done for.

"What the fuck did you say to him?" She was past caring about cencorship just then, and Vivi snorted in laughter. Vivi laughed a lot when she did things out of character. Her other friends were silent as they listened in.

"I-I might have...mentioned the motorcycle...and in effort to evade the question of whether you had been on said motorcycle...I mentioned the tattoo."

"You what?" She yelled, her voice echoing through the room. 

Even Damon jumped at the sudden exclamation.

"I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry! I didn't mean to! I promise I did not mean to!" He pleaded with her, "Look he's getting impatient so please, please just get over here as fast as possible. I'm afraid if I go back in there I'll start babbling and confess some of my indiscretions."

"Oh and God knows we don't want that!" She spat through the phone, voice dripping with cynicism. "I'll be there post haste, my dear brother." She smacked her phone down on the table, fuming.

Damon reached out and touched her arm, and she looked up at him, so angry that tears were in her eyes.

"Can I kill him, please?"

He shook his head. "You'd go to jail, and then you'd have to eat refried beans and play table hockey with a bunch of sweaty old men."

She pouted. "I hate refried beans."

"Can you tell me why you're tempted to go on a murdering spree?" He asked, moving his hand up to her neck where it was tense and squeezing lightly to relieve the pressure.

"He told my dad about the tattoo." She said, a little calmer with the warmth of his touch on her skin.

Damon winced. "And I'm guessing he's not happy."

"Do you like shiskabobs?" She asked him suddenly.

He quirked an eyebrow, but shrugged. "I guess so."

"Well I hope you don't mind becoming one then."

He winced and then smiled. "That bad, huh?"

"Okay, hold on," Vivi inturrupted, and Libia looked over to realize they were all leaning in, staring at her.

"What?" She finally asked when no one said a word.

"You have a tattoo?" They all exclaimed, making her blink.

She furrowed her eyebrows and frowned. Had she ever told them about it? She realized that it never really came up.

"Yeah," She replied, shrugging. "I do."

They all gaped at her and she raised her eyebrows. "Is something wrong?"

Damon grinned at their faces, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

She looked up at him with a frown. "We have to go."

"Go? We?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"My dad wants both of us to meet him," She muttered, eyebrows lowering into an upset glower.

He smiled, amazed at how adorable a person could look while angry, but then her words registered.

"Wait...both? As in you and me? Meeting your dad?" He had to swallow, as the words left a bad taste in the back of his throat - he worried that soon the only thing he would be tasting was blood, especially since he knew all the juicy details of his and Libia's relationship.

Vivi laughed out loud, followed suit by everyone else.

"Good luck," She told him with a sympathetic smile.

He let out a grimace, gripping Libia's hand under the table. "Gee, thanks."

They left the school reluctantly, stopping at the front office to explain that there was an emergency. Damon explained that he was Libia's ride, and the principle agreed to let them go - he gave Libia a warning that her attendance record was starting to dwindle, but she only gave him a sheepish smile before exiting the room.

They didn't rush to the cafe, slowing at stoplights to hope that they would turn red - they didn't. They reached the cafe in a little over ten minutes, despite their slow pace, and Libia felt her stomach crawling with nerves. She looked at Damon, and he was staring through the windshield, preparing himself to die.

"Ready?" She asked, and her voice was soft.

He looked at her, her brown eyes glowing in the sunlight that glinted off of his mirror. Her hair was pulled over her shoulder, tumbling down over her chest, and brushing her thighs - they were slightly red from where it had irritated it and she'd itched it absently. He let out a heavy breath, reaching over to take a strand of her hair into his fingers. He lifted his eyes to her and murmured, "One thing before I die," 

He leaned across the seat before she could ask, and he grabbed the back of her head, pulling her into a full-on kiss that never ceased to send chills down her spine. But this time it was slow, without haste or urgency, but a kiss conveying his every feeling to her. 

She felt dizzy when he finally pulled away, and grinned at her, although his eyes were as dazed as hers.

"Let's go. I feel like I can face death now."

Wordlessly, she unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, feeling as though she'd just been thrown into the clouds as she stumbled slightly.

With a confident smile, he met her at the front of the car, throwing an arm around her shoulders, and holding her close to him. Where had his nervousness gone? She saw not a hint of fear in his eyes, but only bravery and a steel resolve, clashing with a look for her that she could only describe as infinite adoration.

She could feel his own confidence pouring over her, like a tap