Reality And Romance

Her shoulders relaxed a little bit before she replied, “The light saber is clearly red.”

“Ah so you’re a villain, forgive me.” He bowed deeply, his smile growing wider, this was getting more interesting by the minute. “Allow me to pledge allegiance to your reign of darkness.” The woman’s shoulders relaxed a little, and she lowered the light saber to half-mast.

“What is your name and how shall you serve me?” Andrew smiled, glad she had decided to play along.

“My name Andrew Thompson. I shall be yours to command for eternity, without question, or reservation. Your desires are mine.”

He noticed her flush a little, he wasn’t sure if that was because she recognized his name, or because his words had come out far more flirtatiously than intended. Either way he loved the effect it had.

“That sounds quite nice.” She conceded. “Can you cook?”

“No, sorry.” It was true, Johnny was the chef of the family, whereas Andrew was barely capable of pouring himself a bowl of cereal.

The woman rolled her eyes. “Well that won’t do, if you want to be a part of my evil army you will have to make yourself useful.”

“Couldn’t I fight?”

“Nah, sorry. I was just digging around up there,” she gestured to the cupboard behind her. “The only other light saber up there is a green one. If you were to use that we would have to become sworn enemies.”

“Ooh really? That doesn’t sound too bad, I quite like the idea of a passionate rivalry.” He laughed, “So oh-enemy mine, what is your name? And how did you come to be half naked in this cupboard?”

“My name’s Libby. I work here. Who are you?”

“My name is Andrew.” He noticed a flicker of recognition, although she said nothing. He decided to push the game further, hoping it wouldn’t deter her. “And this is what you wore to work? I suppose that’s one way to get teenagers to read more.”

“Star Wars tops?” She queried.

‘Tight tops and thick thighs,’ is what he wanted to reply, but instead he settled for, “Yes.” Before adding, “Although I thought Star Wars was a film franchise…”

“It is.” Libby sighed. “Why are you here anyway?”

“It’s a public library, clearly I came to borrow a book.”

“I deduced that much,” she responded sarcastically. “What I mean is how did you end up in the lost and found room?”

Andrew stopped and thought for a moment. He liked this girl, and saying ‘hiding’ was a little too much for his manly pride to take. Besides he was having fun, and as necessary as his celebrity life was, it certainly wasn’t that.

“Despite my dashing good looks, I too am but a mere mortal. I took a wrong turn.”

Libby raised an eyebrow. “Dashing are you?”

He was about to respond when he noticed she was shivering. Her wet hair must have been dripping down her back.

Sighing, Andrew removed his wet coat, down to the black dinner jacket he was wearing beneath it. Sure he’d get wet on the way home, but he liked this strange, light saber wielding woman.

“You don’t have too –” She began, as he placed it carefully over her shoulders.

“I want to.” Andrew responded, and he felt his chest grow tight as she eased into his touch. It was nice. He’d spent so long avoiding romance because of the show that he had forgotten what it was like to hold someone like this.

“Thank you.” She replied, smiling.

There was a second of silence, in which his arms stayed wrapped over her shoulders, a lingering moment of heat, before they both reluctantly pulled away.

“So Elizabeth…” Andrew began. Suddenly, he felt rather sad. He had gone so long without having anyone but his family that he had become used to it, but with that small moment of heat and comfort he felt as if he had suddenly become acutely aware of what he might be missing.

 “My name’s not Elizabeth.” She interrupted him, suddenly looking very embarrassed.

“What is it then?”

“Liberty.”

Andrew frowned, “I think that’s a very pretty name. If a little ironic considering your position as an evil overlord.”

“Liberty is perfectly fine. It’s my last name that makes it ridiculous.”

“Please tell me.”

She smirked. “You had better not laugh.” He was about to protest, but she continued. “Remember which of us is armed.” Libby waggled the light saber at him.

“Fine. I won’t.”

“My last name is Belle. Liberty Belle.”

Naturally, Andrew burst into laughter.

Libby poked him playfully with the light saber, “I thought you weren’t going to laugh.”

“I promised nothing.” Once he had stopped laughing, Andrew added, “How’d you get that name?”

“My dad thinks he’s funny.”

“Don’t all dads? With a name like that maybe you should be a superhero instead of a villain.”

She smiled, and put her free hand across her heart. “I can see it now! Liberty Bell, all American action girl, fighter of crime and defender of justice!” Libby laughed, “What would my power be?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know you that well.”

She frowned and he felt his heart momentarily stop. Andrew realized at that moment he felt really very sad about that. He wanted to add ‘but I’d like to.’

That was when his phone rang.

“Hello?” He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“Yo Andy, it’s Aaron. Mom needs you back at the house ASAP.” Andrew groaned, wondering if he was cursed.

“Is it urgent?” Andrew really, really, really did not want to leave just yet.

“Sorry man, it’s been a slow week. They want you to talk about the hardships of being an overlooked middle child.”

“Again?”

“Johnny’s been doing topless push ups for forty minutes, and I’ve cried twice. I’ve got to be honest man, we’re running thin.”

“And you couldn’t maybe…cry for another half an hour,”

“Sadly, I only have so many split ends to have a break down about.”

‘Damn Aaron,’ he thought, Andrew could hear his sh*t eating grin through the phone. “Besides,” Aaron continued, “I need to go meet McKenzie in half an hour. I have an appointment with his kitchen counter.”

“You’re an asshole,” Andrew sighed. “But I get the message, I’ll come over as quickly as I can, sob story prepared.”

“Be sure to mention how jealous you are of my looks –” At this point Andrew shut the phone cutting him off. He looked over to where Libby was standing. He didn’t want to leave.

Briefly, he wondered if he should say something. He wanted to see her again. Wanted to ask for her number, hell, to ask if she was single. He wanted another chance to hold her in his arms and have another ridiculous conversation. He wanted to get to know her.But a second vision competed against his pretty dream of happiness, as he remembered the paparazzi. If he got a girlfriend they would go for her in swarms and pick her apart like vultures on a carcass. He remembered his far more awkward teenage years. Remembered the way they picked apart each blemish on his face, each soft ream of teenage puppy fat and every misspoken slip of the tongue. He had gotten used to it, gotten stronger. But he’d had to break to build himself back up, and he wouldn’t want that for anyone.

So instead of asking for her number, or if she’d like to see him again, he muttered, “Sorry, I have to go,” and left.