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

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?

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."