Bad Girl. - E Z (reading well .TXT) 📗

she watched the paint drip from her chin, pressing her lips together to hide another sob. To her surprise, he let out a soft laugh, almost sounding disbelieving.

"Oh, Libia. Even with paint in your hair, you're beautiful," He mused.

He pulled her into him, setting his hand on the back of her head so her face was pressed against his chest. She struggled, not wanting to get paint on him, but he held her close. Finally, she broke down, melting into him. 

"That's it, Babe. Let it out. Don't worry about me," He murmured.

So she cried like a baby in his arms, as he held her in silence. She was so damn tired of being weak. Being picked on. So...damn...tired! She wanted to just walk up to Johnson and punch him. To give him as much pain and humiliation as he had given her. 

But the fact of it was, she was as weak as they come. She couldn't even tell her family about one of her absolute favorite hobbies, or the fact that she's wanted a tattoo since she was sixteen. 

"I don't...know why...you're helping me," Libia said between hiccups. "I'll never...be as strong...as you," She pulled back, wiping her face with one hand while the other hugged across her stomach.

Damon sighed, lifting his now paint-covered hands and putting them on her face. "You're so much stronger than me, Libia." He shrugged flippantly. "You just don't know it yet."

***

When they reached her front door, Libia sniffed, wiping her cheeks once more. "Thank you for the ride, Damon. Sorry for getting paint on you...and your car," She grimaced, glancing at the BMW.

He smiled at her. "Don't worry about it. I told you, that's my brother's car, and he's a huge pushover," Damon shrugged.

She studied him. He'd been flippant about the entire situation. She'd have thought, after the rage she saw in his eyes before he tackled Johnson, that he'd be brooding and angry for the rest of the week.

He's hiding it. The thought came out of no where, surprising, but also making Libia study him closer.

Libia's thoughts were correct. Behind the kind smile he gave her, she could see the anger, the almost boiling rage that he hid almost perfectly well from his body language, but his eyes were unable to conceal it fully.

Sighing, Libia wrapped her arms around him.

Damon paused in surprise. Libia's arms came around his waist, and her head laid on his chest. He had the destinct feeling that this embrace was not for her own comfort, but for his.

He had no idea how much he needed that hug, until she gave it to him. A wave of guilt and anger - at both himself and Johnson - crashed over him when those fragile, warm arms tightened around him. Letting out a breath, his calm composure shattered. He gripped her tightly in his own arms, lifting her up so her feet were a few inches off the ground. He buried his face in her neck. Why hadn't he been there? Why had Johnson decided to pull something so cruel, knowing that Damon would pummel him? Why had he done it?

"I'm so sorry, Libia. I'm so...so sorry."

Sighing again, Libia smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "None of this is your fault, Damon. You big idiot."

Both of them were a little surprised at her bold, dry, yet kind words, but Damon only let out a breathy laugh against her neck. "Yeah, sure. I'll agree to make you feel better," Damon muttered.

Rolling her eyes, Libia let him go, and Damon dropped her to the ground carefully.

"Go home and get cleaned up before I smack you upside the head," She threatened, although her voice was soft, making the threat completely unbelievable.

Smiling, Damon shot her a wink that made her knees wobble, before turning and walking off.

Libia smiled and rolled her eyes. She pulled her key from her backpack, which Damon had graciously retreived for her, and unlocked the door. She was surprised to find her mom on the other side.

"So who was he? and what happened to you?" She demanded, not even waiting for Libia to step inside.

Libia tilted her head as she set her bag down beside the door, closing it behind her. "What are you doing here, and awake, Mom?"

"I've got the night off. Plus I heard from Ben that you'd gone on a date with 'some guy named Jacob,' and I wanted to ask you about him. Was that Jacob?" She gestured in Damon's general direction.

Libia was suddenly glad that Damon usually drove his brother's car to school. She didn't think her mother would approve very much if she came home in a motorcycle.

"Does everyone like to spy on me out the window? And his name was Johnson. And no, I doubt I'll be seeing him ever again," She rolled her eyes, heading for her room.

"Then who was that? Why was he holding onto you like his life depended on it?" Mom questioned, following her.

"That's Damon," Libia replied, ignoring the second question.

"And...what happened to you?" She asked.

Libia walked into the bathroom, leaving the door open so she could talk to her while she washed her face off.

"Nothing. Just a school prank that everyone goes through when they're new," Libia lied, washing her hands off as well.

"They pour paint on you? Do you know how expensive those uniforms are? I paid fifty for the whole outfit! Now look at it!" She gestured to Libia's ruined attire, as if she hadn't already seen it.

"I tried to tell them," She lied, "But it's just what every new kid goes through," Libia shrugged.

Mom grunted. "I'll leave you to shower, but we're talking about this Damon character when you get out," She wagged her finger at Libia, "That kid has got it bad for you!"

Libia almost choked on air. "Mom! It's not like that!" She cried.

She smiled knowingly. "Oh? What about you? I've never seen you meet another person's eyes for more than a few seconds, and now you're hugging him as if you'd known him for years!" She pointed at her.

She spluttered, narrowing her eyes at her. "I don't...I mean he doesn't...we're just friends!" She finally cried, before slamming the bathroom door shut.

He laughter faded down the hall, and Libia furrowed her eyebrows. They were just friends, right? Damon was pretending to date her because he wanted to help her get back at Johnson. That was all.

So why did her heart crack just a hair each time the words 'Just friends' passed through her mind?

Chapter Eight.

Libia wiped the steam from the mirror over the sink, grimacing when she caught sight of the bruise that had formed where Bailey had pinched and twisted so roughly. Libia could pass it off as having been accidentally hit with a basketball, her mother would most likely believe that.

Sighing, she stepped out of the bathroom, heading down the hall to her room. She dressed quickly in comfortable shorts and a nice T-shirt, before heading back out to where her mother waited, sipping her decaffeinated tea at the kitchen table.

She walked into the room, and the first thing her mother did was gasp. "Honey! Where did you get that bruise?" She asked in alarm.

"It's nothing, Mom. I just got hit with a basketball in gym. Nothing to be worried about," She assured softly.

Letting out a breath, she sat back. "Alright. Make yourself some tea and sit down. I want to know more about this Damon guy," Libia rolled her eyes, pouring some tea of her own, before sitting down.

"He's really just a friend," Again, her heart lurched painfully when the word passed her lips, confusing her.

Her mother let out a scoff. "Honey, don't give me that Horse Hockey. You don't like to even associate with people. God help you, you got your father's personality. Your brother and I have been trying to get you to associate with people for years, and you just shy away. And now you're hugging this guy like he's your last tie to life?" She scoffed again, "I don't believe it."

Libia stared at her mother, her cheeks reddening with the truth that she couldn't deny. Who was she kidding? She was falling for this guy.

"I'm pathetic, aren't I?" She said quietly, using her tea as an excuse not to look at her mother, as she warmed her hands on the glass surrounding the cup, "I can't even admit it to myself. How can I admit it to him when I'm too shy to let myself accept it? He probably doesn't even like me back," She mumbled, her fingers playing with the handle of the mug.

Her mother sighed. "Honey, you really are blind."

Looking up, Libia raised a puzzled eyebrow. "Huh?"

"He hugged you back, Libia. He held onto you like his life depended on it. You can't tell me that he doesn't like you, because I saw the look in that boy's eyes when he looked at you. It was like he'd just been smacked in the face with a heavy dose of Oh-My-God-I'm-In-Love," Libia giggled at her mother's analogy, shaking her head.

"Yeah right, Mom. Damon? Liking me?" She let out one short, humorless laugh. "Right."

Her mother narrowed her eyes, disbelieving. The girl could be a super model, if she wasn't so shy. Her face was petite, and she knew from experience that when that little nose sniffled and those big, innocent eyes filled with tears, you'd want to either kill the person that hurt her, or kill yourself for being the one that hurt her. The girl puts off this vibe that screams "protect me!"

Libia took a sip of her tea, before looking up at her mother, whom was studying her closely. "What?"

Shaking her head, her mother sighed. "Tell me about Damon. What's he like?"

"Well...he doesn't seem like it at first, but he's...sweet. He helped me...a lot, with school related stuff. He doesn't let anyone mess with me at school. He's got this sense of humor that can either have you looking at him like a mad man, or laughing too hard to stand up straight," Libia paused as she saw the knowing smile on her mother's lips, "What?"

"How long have you known Damon?" She asked, taking a drink of her tea.

Raising her eyebrows in confusion, she shrugged. "I don't know, a couple days I guess?"

The smile widened. "Really? So you've been hanging out with Damon for the duration of those couple days?"

"I guess. What are you getting at?" Libia asked, shaking her head with a confused smile.

"Well, you seem to know this boy pretty well. At least, personality wise," She explained.

Libia stared at her mother for a moment, before it clicked. "Oh no! You've got it all wrong! He's been helping me with some stuff!" Libia exclaimed, laughing at the absurdity of what her mother was implying.

Libia shifted in her chair at the idea that they had been dating. It wasn't true, of course, but she wished it had been. She remembered the way he'd smiled at her in school. It was such a soft, affectionate smile. She wished it had been real. And she hated that she did.

Sighing, her mother stood. "Well, just for the record, he'd be crazy not to like you," Her mother murmured, dropping a kiss to her forehead as she passed.

"Where are you going?" Libia