My boyfriend’s enemy.
When I dare peek at him he gestures at my notebook. For me to answer him. I shouldn’t. I really, really shouldn’t.
“I’m psychic,” I finally write back dryly. Then add, “And stop picking on Blake. Whatever your issues are—he’s innocent.”
Shane grunts. Without a word, he gets up and moves back to his seat beside the blonde. She looks delighted to have him back.
But his eyes stay on me.
CHAPTER 16
Okay, I don’t like being used as a pawn in a troubled boy’s pursuit to piss off my boyfriend. I sat all through the first hour of detention trying to ignore Shane’s eyes. Not easy when they remained on me—blatantly—for the whole, entire hour.
As soon as break was called (yes, apparently, there is a “break” during detention as it is a fickin’ hour-and-a-half long!) as soon as I left the classroom one of Shane’s hockey teammates, Griffin Piper, pulled me aside. “What’s up with you and The Shade?” he asked.
I swallowed. “Nothing.”
“No, wrong,” Griffin said, like: try again.
I shrugged, then hesitantly admitted my concerns, as Griffin Piper is one of those guys that you can tell anything to, and nothing will faze him or cause him to judge—and really his home-life is no more stable than poor Shane’s. So, I sighed and admitted, “I’m worried about Shane. He has issues, and the choices he makes, he doesn’t seem to actually—literally—care if he lives or dies.”
Griffin nodded slowly. “He’s the same with hockey. He doesn’t really seem to care about his safety, or consequences of a crazy move that could get him killed, he just goes for the score. Consequences don’t enter his mind … or he pushes them away.”
I swallowed down a lump in my throat. “But he could get seriously hurt—or die.”
Griffin nodded. “I don’t think he cares.” Then he grinned, “He might care if a pretty girl does, though. At least it would make him think twice. Hard to get action when you’re in a hospital most of the time.”
Just then, break was declared over. Griffin gave me a meaningful look, gesturing towards Shane. I got the look. It said: Go be Shane’s reason to live. But that was just crazy. On so many levels. The first being: The guy is my boyfriend’s enemy. The next being: I have a BOYFRIEND.
So, I ignored Griffin’s look, though he is a very tough guy and not at all used to being ignored. However, I’m a girl. He doesn’t beat up girls. So, I sat back down in my seat at the back of the classroom.
But only a tiny while after detention started again, Griffin raised his hand and informed the teacher, “The Shade’s whispering with Blondie over there is distracting me from my conscientious homework that I’m endeavoring to do. The Shade was really quiet when he was sitting next to the cheerleader. I think you should make him sit by her again. She keeps him in line—which you know is difficult to do.”
Shane gave him a quizzical look, but the teacher just said, “Shane, by all means sit by the cheerleader if she can keep you quiet.”
Shane drew out a breath, but got up easy enough. He still looked quizzically at Griffin though, like: “Why are you doing this, weirdo?”
But they are buddies, so Shane didn’t really have a problem with Griffin’s antics. He just seemed confused by them.
But I wasn’t—of course. Groan!
Griffin is used to getting his way with the entire student-body population at our school. People just don’t tell him “no”—well, unless they’re adults—or have a death-wish. I didn’t out-and-out tell him “no.” But I’d gone against his obvious (blatant) wishes.
With a shrug, he worked around that.
Well, I’m totally going to tell Ally on him.
(Ally is his girlfriend—who he adores.)
She is also my friend, who I adore. And, as a side note, she is the only person on the entire planet that has any power whatsoever over Griffin. But she has it over him big time. Griffin will do anything for Ally.
I’m going to tell her to make the dude stop playing cupid! (I have a boyfriend!!) Okay, okay, Blake is on the football team, and Griffin is all about hockey and looking out for his players—but again, I stress—I have a boyfriend!
Nonetheless, Griffin gets his way and Shane slides into the seat next to me once again.
Griffin smirks at me, like: Be his reason to stay out of the hospital.
But I can’t be his reason. I HAVE A BOYFRIEND!! Besides, the dude laughed at my sobbing and beats up my boyfriend: I’m trying to think of him as a monster.
… it’s kind of hard though when I feel him looking at me again.
It has my heart pounding.
Stupid, traitor heart. (I have a boyfriend!!)
After a long while of blatantly staring at me while I try to ignore him, Shane hunches over my desk and writes in my notebook again: “Seriously. How do you know so much about me?”
When I don’t answer, he leans over me again and writes: “—are you going to be a psychiatrist?”
Ha! That is such a laugh! Ever since my mom died I have panic attacks. I wake up in the middle of the night, and I can’t go back to sleep. I worry about everything—worry about my little sister, and what her sad little life is going to be like without a mom. I worry about my dad, and his heartbreak. I worry about money. I worry about Shane. I worry about him drinking another poisonous concoction, but actually dying this time.
I write him back: “No. I need a psychiatrist.”
He leans over my desk, purposely getting super close to me (it seems). He writes, “You can use mine.”
I write him back: “Hmmm. No offense, but I’m thinking she’s probably not too terribly good—looking at your track record and all.”
“Fair point.”
Then he adds, “And no offense taken. I suppose my track record —in your eyes—sucks.”
Then he leans over and adds more, “—and no, she’s probably not very good. But she’s good looking … so at least there’s that.”
I write dryly: “Hey, score!”
He leans over and writes, “Well, no. She knows me pretty well … so, no scoring.”
Then he adds, “—just dirty looks when I try.”
With a chuckle I roll my eyes. “Maybe you should seek actual therapy instead of scoring.”
Completely invading my personal space, he writes: “Not as fun.”
As he writes this the teacher announces that detention is over. Relief!
I catch Griffin watching Shane and me as I close my notebook. You know, the one full of how I spent my last half-hour of detention—conversing with the enemy.
Griffin winks at me.
Face-palm.
CHAPTER 17
“How was detention?” Blake asks with a smirk as he’s helping me set up for play rehearsal.
I duck my head, feeling guilty, because the whole thing had not been nearly as horrible as he seems to think—mostly because of Shane. (Wary sigh.)
Blake goes on, still smirking, “I hear it’s full of degenerates.”
I shrug dryly, “Yep, that’s me—a degenerate.”
He kisses me softly on the lips, “—a really cute one,” he murmurs in my mouth.
He kisses me a little more passionately, “—the cutest degenerate around.”
I sigh, happily kissing him back, so glad that we’re no longer in our traumatic fight. We made-up (and out) during lunch hour. It was a relief—and most enjoyable. (I always enjoy making-out with my awesome boyfriend.)
Sabrina clears her throat. Then says dryly, “You told me to come early, Bethany. I thought it was to make up for the scene I missed yesterday with Blake—not to watch you make a scene with him.”
I roll my eyes, so hating her. I’m glad detention just axed cheerleading practice, and not play practice as well. We definitely need the rehearsal, but if I had it all to do over again, Sabrina would not be my lead—or even in my play. And she’d definitely, definitely not be kissing Blake. Though it’s just a peck, it st
ill kills to watch. Every. Time.
“I made a few changes,” I tell her.
I reluctantly release Blake from our affectionate hold and start searching for my new props. “Blake will you grab my notebook out of my backpack?”
“Sure,” Blake grabs my notebook, but then his brow lowers as he stares at its open page.
Oh no! My stomach drops as his eyes narrow, reading what was last written in my notebook … during detention!
Blake glares up at me. “You’ve been writing notes to Shane?”
“No! I mean—”
Blake stomps up on the stage. “Let’s get to practice,” he growls. “I’m supposed to kiss Sabrina, right?”
He grabs her and gives her a huge, long, lingering kiss on the mouth. It goes on and on.
When he finally lets Sabrina go, she’s breathless and smiling huge. She coos, “That was almost better than the kiss you gave me last night.”
Bile rises in my throat.
I throw the new script and run for the exit—hurt and mad. There’s a knife in my heart. He kissed Sabrina last night?
Blake catches me before I make it out of the building. He pins me against the wall, forcefully, so I can’t get away. “Look, last night I was hurt. I felt like you betrayed me. Sabrina showed up at my house. She knew we were in a fight. I guess she heard it from my friends. She said she was there for me, if I wanted to talk about it. Then, we just ended up making out a little bit—I felt terrible afterwards.”
“You didn’t look like you felt terrible about it just now,” I growl.
His jaw muscles clench. “Yeah, well, I’d just read your notes with Shane. That didn’t make me feel too good, Bethany. So I guess I wanted to do the same thing to you. Let you see how it feels to be betrayed by the person that is supposed to love you.”
“Mission accomplished,” I growl. “We’re done.”
He grabs my arm as I try to stomp away. Pleadingly he says, “No. Don’t say that. We’ve both made horrible mistakes. We’re even.”
“No, Blake,” I inform him bitterly. “We’re not ‘even.’ I didn’t hurt you on purpose. I would never hurt you on purpose.”
He winces. Turning white he says, “I know that. But you had hurt me just the same, Bethany. And maybe it’s worse—since yours wasn’t even on purpose.”
I clench my teeth. “No, it’s not worse. Yours is unforgivable, Blake—hurting me on purpose? And you made out with her?” I pull my arm away from him. “We are so over.”
I run out of the building, and keep running. No way am I going to let him see me cry.
CHAPTER 18
Halfway home from speeding away from the school (and Blake), my dad’s truck breaks down. Of course.
Shoving away my pouring tears, I call the auto-club, then rest my forehead against the steering wheel, knowing I’m in for a long wait. I roll down the window to get air. I feel like I’m suffocating. I breathe in deeply, then out, in and out, so deep.
Finally, I rest my head back on the steering wheel, the panic attack subsiding. Or whatever it was. I just can’t get the image of Blake kissing Sabrina out of my tortured brain—the knowledge that he made-out with her last night. He totally cheated on me! I can’t believe it. Sweet Blake—cheated on me!
“You need help?”
I jerk my head up. Whoa! It’s Shane.
My heart jolts seeing him. I mean, majorly. Like, practically lurches out of my chest. I don’t know why. Maybe just because he stopped to help.
My lip trembling, I answer, “No.”
A slight moan noise escapes his lips from that. He smiles slightly. “It sort of seems like you do.”
“No, really. I—I called the auto-club.”
He nods slightly. “Okay, I’ll just wait with you.” He raises his eyebrows “—until they get here.”
I had taken my dad’s truck to school this morning only as a last resort. Usually I get a ride with Blake, but of course he didn’t pick me up this morning like he normally does—since this morning we’d been in our fight about my Remington/Shane books. Well, actually I guess Blake did come by (to tell me he didn’t want to break up—you know, after he made-out with Sabrina) but since he didn’t answer any of my texts yesterday or show up at yesterday’s play practice—no, I hadn’t expected him to show up to take me to school, so instead I took my dad’s piece of truck.
Now I’m paying for it so heavily.
My heart really can’t take Shane. Especially not if he’s going to be nice.
I tell him quickly, “No! You—you don’t have to wait with me. I mean, thank you, but they usually take a long time. So—”
“—then I’ll just fix your truck for you,” Shane says, interrupting my protest. “I mean, if they’re going to take a long time. I’m right here,” he raises his eyebrows, “—I’m a mechanic.”
Groan! I see no way out of this. And Shane doesn’t wait around for me to come up with something.
“Pop your hood,” he says. But he doesn’t even wait for me to do that either, he reaches into the truck and pulls the lever, then starts working on the truck’s engine.
I silently watch him work, just handing him tools he asks for as he patiently works on my truck.
Then he says, “Okay, start her up.”
And—whoa! It starts up.
So fast and easy.
“Thank you!” I gush out.
He grins at my clear joy and gratitude, but I can’t help gushing even more, “I mean it Shane. Thank you so much!”
His grin twitches. Around an adorable smile he says, “I figure it’s what Remington Drake would do … right? Little pre-teen girls don’t want to read about a dirt-wad driving right on by the cheerleader in distress—even if the cheerleader is dating a dirt-wad.”
I bite my lip, my heart pounding and squeezing at the same time.
Decidedly, I don’t tell him that Blake and I aren’t “dating” anymore. No need to encourage him. After all, he’s no Remington Drake, and I’d promised my aunt I’d stay away from him. Because he’s trouble. And troubled.
And besides, the only reason he likes to talk to me is to stir up Blake.
… and besides all of that, if I tell him that Blake and I broke up, I’m going start bawling. Can’t have that.
So, the whole time I silently watched him fix my car, I just handed him tools he had asked for. That was it—no conversation the whole time.
Only now I’m finding that I’m so grateful for his help and unexpected kindness I could burst into tears anyway.
Impulsively I try handing him ten dollars. It’s actually my gas money—but, hey, the dude was beyond helpful.
“What’s this?” he asks as I hold the ten out to him.
“A ten—sorry, it’s all I have.”
“Then keep it, you need gas,” he says. “Go get it now, because I don’t want to find you out on the road on my way home.” He grins, “Me giving you so much help is bad for my reputation, girls go for a bad boy—well, except in your books.”
“Remington’s a bad-boy,” I point out.
He grins, “—with a secret heart of gold.” (Face-palm! That’s a quote from my book.) He laughs softly, “Let’s keep it a secret, okay? Go get your gas. And go easy on your clutch.”
Then he says softly, “And whatever you were crying about—I’m sorry.”
CHAPTER 19
Ugh! Shane could tell I was crying? That’s probably the only reason he stopped to help me: he thought I was bawling about my car. Probably more stuff he’s going to laugh with his friends about me—first that I’d bawled over his poem, now that I cried over my car.
I hate him!
Well, I wish I did.
It would make it a whole lot easier to stop thinking about him.
As it is, I’m stuck reminiscing every moment of him patiently silently (gorgeously) working on my truck. His dark hair falling in his gorgeous dark eyes, his tiny little grunts, his biting his gorgeous tempting lip, his little peeks at me.
Ugh! The dude is disturbingly hot. I wish I didn’t notice that.
Unfortunately, it’s now blaring in my brain—Shane Shade is a gorgeous, hot mechanic.
… and even seems to be a nice guy—that is when he’s not laughing at me with his friends.
Ugh! I’m so confuuuuused!
CHAPTER 20
My sister and I went to my grandma’s house the weekend that my dad moved our stuff to the new “duplex” we would be living in. I was glad to go. Staying with Grandma would help get my mind off Cheating Blake and Remington/Shane. And there, at Grandma’s, I wouldn’t have to worry about Blake dropping by to try to “woo” me back, which he’d been trying to do for days now—ever since his big relationship-kiss-of-death with Sabrina. He didn’t know I was at my grandma’s, and I gave my dad strict orders not to tell him.
“In fight with Blake?” Dad had asked when I gave him the request/gag-order.
I didn’t usually fight with Blake, ever. So Dad looked concerned. I didn’t want him to worry about me, but I also didn’t want Blake finding me, so I’d nodded and informed Dad, “Yep. We broke up.” Then I quickly added, “But it’s for the best, Dad. So don’t worry about it.”
I really didn’t understand what was going on with my dad anyway. I thought he would want me and my little sister to help with the move, but he was pretty adamant that we go to Grandma’s and let him and his “men” do the moving.
Who his “men” were, I had no idea. We couldn’t afford actual movers, so those weren’t the “men.” I figured it was guys from his work. But whatever. He didn’t want me and my sister in the way? So be it. Off to Grandma’s we went, glad to be fed cookies rather than load boxes into the moving van Dad rented.
Then the big event came—Dad showing me and my sister our new “house.”
It turned out it was the duplex attached to my aunt’s!
Dad did it as a surprise for us—so we could live close to Aunt Jenny.
With a shy smile, dad said, “I know it’s not the same as having your mom—but now you have a relative right next door.”
Please Love Me Back Page 5
