I also now had Shane next door. My mother would cringe.
I wish I cringed—but that’s not exactly what I did. Or what my heart did. Not at all.
“Bethany? Are you okay?” Dad asked worriedly. “I thought you would be happy to live near Aunt Jenny.”
I smiled weakly, but tried my best to make it huge and look real. “I am dad. Really!” I gave him a big hug. “Thank you so much! It was a wonderful surprise. And my room looks great.”
“Jenny set it up,” Dad said. “And that foster boy she has living with her—Shane? He was a big help moving everything into the house.”
Just hearing Shane’s name, knowing he came into our house, something came over me. I got all tingly and sweaty—both at the same time.
“Bethany, honey, are you okay?” Dad sounded extremely concerned. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m just … I’m cold. I’m going to put on a sweater—and finish unpacking.”
He smiled. “Sounds good, kiddo,” he said. “Get all settled into your new surroundings.”
I swallowed. It didn’t seem I’d ever get settled in my new surroundings.
My new surroundings were … unsettling.
CHAPTER 21
Aunt Jenny had me and my sister, Hanna, come over to her house for dinner the first day we moved into the new house. She had a foster kid my sister’s age and the two hit it off right away and went for a bike ride together right after dinner.
Aunt Jenny looked a little sheepish after they left. “I had you come after Shane went to work,” she said. “He doesn’t know you live here now, by the way.”
“Oh,” the news was a little surprising to say the least. “I thought he helped with the moving in.”
She nodded, “He did. But that was just him being nice. I told him my brother and his kids were moving in next door—I didn’t tell him who my brother’s kids were, though. He just offered to help with the move because he’s nice like that.”
I swallowed, having to agree. Shane was nice like that—it seemed. At times. Despite how he fought with Blake (which was disturbing), he had a kind side to him that always took me off-guard—mostly because I was used to how he treated Blake.
Aunt Jenny rinsed the dishes while I loaded them into the dishwasher. “I don’t know how I feel about you living next to Shane,” she says half-way through our duties.
“Me neither.”
“He’s a good kid. Really sweet. But he has impulse issues.”
I shudder. “So I’ve heard.” (From Trisha.)
My aunt sighs. She says again, “He’s a good kid.”
—and handsome. (I don’t say this to my aunt. But I think it. A lot.)
“How are you and Blake?” she asks.
Pain slices through me. “Horrible,” I mutter.
Aunt Jenny sighs again, giving me a sympathetic look. “It’s hard being a teenager.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” I deadpan dryly—but as I say it, in walks Shane.
He freezes when he sees me. Then tilts his head sardonically. “Gathering book material?”
Groan!!
“No,” I inform him, “I’m visiting my aunt.”
His eyes widen. Then widen even more as the implications of this information sinks in. “You live on the other side of my wall?”
His eyebrows go up, “—a wall away from me?”
Flushing, I nod.
A slow grin spreads on his lips. “How does Blake feel about that?”
I wince. “He doesn’t know yet.”
His grin twitches. “Can I tell him?”
CHAPTER 22
I didn’t tell Shane that Blake and I broke up. For one thing, my aunt had just reminded me about Shane’s disturbing “impulse issues.” For another thing, the subject was still a very emotional bomb-field for me, and I was pretty sure I’d bawl if I mentioned it aloud.
So, I just quickly fled from my aunt’s house with the excuse, “Um, I need to go.”
Shane had given me a quizzical look at my spastic abrupt departure, but all he said was, “’Bye, neighbor.”
“Bye,” I mumbled as I scrambled out the door.
Of course it didn’t help that later that night I heard him being all patient and helpful with the little foster brother he shared his room with. He was helping the little guy with his math. Being so sweet.
This was bad.
My heart was not cut out to shield against Shane Shade. Its only protection had been that we kept a wide berth from each other. But that berth was gone.
And my heart was unprotected.
CHAPTER 23
Monday morning I opened my locker to find a stuffed teddy bear sitting inside.
“Squeeze its tummy,” Blake said, suddenly beside me.
Unimpressed, I brutally squeezed. The bear immediately said, “I’m beary sorry!”
Also, as of note, its shirt said, “Please forgive me!”
“Listen to the bear,” Blake said softly, handing me a box of chocolates and a dozen roses.
Rolling my eyes, I took them.
Blake sounded in tortured agony. “You moved to get away from me?”
“Yep. The move was all about you,” I said coolly.
“Where are you living now?” he asked.
“Well, not in your neighborhood,” I told him, tossing his “gifts” into the garbage can conveniently located right next to me. “—all the houses in hell were full. I’m pretty sure Sabina the Skank took the last one.”
He murmured “Ouch” as I plopped each of his gifts into the trashcan as I ground out my words.
Then I walked away, though he called after me, “I love you, Bethany!”
His words made me flinch. But I kept walking, the image of him kissing Sabrina haunting my tortured brain.
“I need you to forgive me,” he yelled down the hallway, making everyone turn to look.
I whipped back to him and growled, “Well, I need a boyfriend that doesn’t cheat on me and kiss snakes—but neither of us seem to be going to get what we want today. So, I suggest you give your chocolates and bears to someone that doesn’t want to rip your head off.”
Later he texted me: “Okay, you’re mad. I get that. But you need to forgive me. Face it: You need me, Bethany. I need you too, but you need me just as much as I need you. You need me for your play, and you need me because you LOVE me. We both made mistakes, Bethany. But we need to forgive each other.”
I turned off my phone, then threw it across the classroom.
I hadn’t meant to. I mean, I didn’t plan to do that.
Yet I chucked it, and it went flying to the middle of the classroom.
Talk about impulse issues—man!!
Red and grimacing, I looked up and noticed Shane across the classroom.
He was watching me with raised eyebrows.
It made my heart go spastic.
He quietly got up from his chair and handed me back my phone (our teacher hadn’t come into the room yet) (thank goodness). Everyone was staring at me though, like I’d gone nuts. Shane seemed to be a little worried that I had too.
He whispered to me, “I’ll give you my therapist’s number later. Maybe we can get a group discount.” Then he added, “—neighbor.”
He said it playfully.
But also sympathetically.
Wow, my life was a huge ball of pathetic if even Shane Shade was feeling sorry for me.
CHAPTER 24
After class, I grabbed this guy Jimmy North. He’s gay and gorgeous and happens to sing like a bird—a lovely bird. “Jimmy, how would you like to be a star?”
He smiled. “I enjoy shining—why? What’s up?”
“My senior project. I’m doing a play for it—and a lead position just became available. I want you for it.”
He smiled. “You’re on.”
“Great!”
Something happy for once. Hallelujah!
I quickly clicked on my durable phone and texted Blake. “I don’t need to forgive you,
and I don’t need you for my play. I’m beary set. Thanks.”
Blake quickly typed back, “Why? Who did you get to take my place?”
“Jimmy North. He was quite happy to take it.”
I did a happy dance and hurried to my next class, but halfway through Calculus I got a text from Jimmy. “Bethany, I’m really sorry, but I’m not going to be able to be your star after all. I got a better paying gig. It won’t be nearly as satisfying, but I’ve got to go with the money. I have my eye on a car. Sorry!”
I slunk in my seat, my heart sinking to the floor. Sadness!!!
With a dismal sigh, I typed back: “Okay. I understand. Weep! What’s your better paying ‘gig’?”
Jimmy wrote back: “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask me that. Blake just paid me—big time—to stay out of your play. I’m sorry. He’s a total tool … but I need the money.”
Rage ignited through me.
CHAPTER 25
Blake was going to pay anyone I offered his part to—pay them “big”—to stay out of my play. He said that word for word in his text to me, right after I ranted to him how horrible he was.
“Bethany—you need to calm down,” he wrote. “I’ll be in your play—all you have to do is forgive me.” Then he added: “I forgive you.... Forgive me.”
I texted back, “Never! Especially if you’re going to be like this—manipulative and a freakin’ bully!”
“I’m not being a ‘bully.’ I’m just using my resources. You need me, and I need you. This is just bringing it home, Bethany. I do a lot for you. You need me.”
“I need you to stay out of my life!”
After that lovely conversation, I left cheerleading practice not in the best mood. However, when I got home, I found my little sister was in a worse mood. Through her tears, I learned she’d had her lemonade money stolen.
See, here’s the thing: my sister is an entrepreneur. Right now, she’s on a lemonade-stand kick. She’s been raking in some pretty good money. (She’s adorable—people love that) (wayyy more than her lemonade.)
Apparently, when she went into our house really quick to use the bathroom, someone took advantage. The person didn’t just steal the money out of her register, they swiped the whole frickin’ register.
“Does Aunt Jenny know?” I asked.
Hanna shook her head. “She took her kids to the library.”
I glanced over to their house and noted Shane’s car parked in the driveway. Before I knew what I was even doing, I was at his door
“Look, this isn’t the best neighborhood we live in,” Shane said when I explained to him about the crime. “Don’t leave your money unattended.”
I pointed out, “It was in a locked box.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Unattended.”
He grumbled, “Anyway, despite what you think of me—I’m not a thief. So, if that’s all you came over for, then I guess we’re done here, Cheerleader.”
Shame ripped through me. I felt bad. “I wasn’t calling you a thief.”
“No, you were just implying it.”
I snapped my mouth shut. What could I say?
With a note of bitterness in his voice Shane said, “Good luck finding your money—maybe try the little old lady up the street. She probably doesn’t have a good alibi either, since all she has as witnesses to her whereabouts are her cats.”
Then he shoved a cookie at me. “This is from your aunt—not me.”
“Thanks,” I murmured. (He gave me a cookie!)
He did a moan noise. “It’s from your aunt.” There was a tiny grin on his lips that he was trying to hide, though. He went on sounding gruff, “Unlike Remington—I don’t bake. Also unlike Remington I don’t kiss Cheerleaders after they’ve insinuated I’ve been a bad-boy, so take your cookie and go, I’m not going to kiss you Cheerleader,” he raises his eyebrows, “—unless you beg.”
“Like that will ever happen.”
“Okay, you would just have to ask nicely, probably.”
“’Bye bad-boy.”
“’Bye Thief-accuser.”
CHAPTER 26
When I got home I marched upstairs, enjoying my cookie, but not sure how I felt about Shane and his grouchy flirting/whatever that was.
With a sigh I sadly informed my sister I was pretty sure she was out the money.
I smoothed down her curly hair. “We don’t live in the best neighborhood now, Hanna. You’re going to have to watch your money more closely—as mom said about Aunt Jenny, we’re in a bad element.”
The song “Witchy Woman” was blasted from next door immediately after I said that.
My heart dropped. And a chill ran through me.
Awesome. Shane heard what I said. First I implied he was a thief, now I called him “bad element.”
An agonizing pain sliced through my heart realizing that, for many, many reasons. The first one being, I hated that I might have hurt Shane’s feelings. But also—ugh! I was starting to have strange, longing feelings towards him. But sadly, the dude must hate me. I mean, “Witchy Woman”—ouch!
***
After that conversation, any time I entered my room and started to talk, whether it was to Hanna, or on the phone, or whatever—Shane would immediately blast “Witchy Woman” next door. LOUDLY. Purposely so I could hear it.
Yeah, yeah—I got it. I’m a witch in Shane’s eyes.
Sob!
It really, really hurt because the more I heard him talk with his sweet little brother, Tony, the more I got to know him—and the more I liked him.
It seemed I was actually really, truly starting to fall for The Shade.
So it bit that he thought I was a witch, and just added to my panic attacks that I had at night. They were disturbing. I would wake up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat and full of anxiety—over everything. It used to be mostly about my sweet little sister, Hanna. Her not having a mom. But now that we were next door to Aunt Jenny, that worry subsided a little. Only now I had ridiculous anxiety about my stupid senior project, and Blake, and now—that Shane thought I was a terrible person.
I knew it was silly, but in the middle of the night, those things would suddenly weigh me down so much I’d have to go outside to breathe. I’d stare at the stars and take big gulps of the night air and it would help.
I started to take these long after midnight walks to the docks almost every night. It was peaceful and gave me … peace. Sometimes it would be like I could feel my mother with me—there, in the night air.
Tonight I woke and did it again—walked to the docks. As I quietly sit, I especially feel Mom tonight. I feel her so much, I have to wipe away tears.
“Your dad’s looking for you.”
Startled by the unexpected voice, I almost fall off my rock. My pulse thumps wild as I whip around, then—ka-pow!
My heart explodes—Shane!
He’s here, in the dark. Watching me.
I wipe away my tears, feeling a panic to explain why I’m here in the middle of the night—being crazy. Crying. “Sometimes I just need to get out at night—be outside with the stars.”
“I know,” he says. “I follow you.”
My heart jolts. He follows me?!
Though my heart is pounding wild, I try to sound breezy. “Who’s the stalker again?”
“Hey, I just do it for your protection. You shouldn’t come out here alone.” He adds sardonically, “—it’s a bad element.”
I rest my forehead on my knees.
Shane says softly, “You could talk to my therapist.”
I sigh. “We can’t afford a therapist.”
“The state pays for mine. Have your dad beat you, and drink household cleaning supplies. They’ll pay for yours too.”
“You’re really recommending that?”
“The counseling?—absolutely. The other stuff?—absolutely not.”
I hear a slight coaxing in his voice, “You could talk to mine during my time though—on the state’s dime. I could bring you in with me wi
th some phony, crazy, made up excuse—like, I’m madly in love with you and can’t stop thinking about you, something super crazy like that. Then I could claim stomach issues and while I spend the hour in the bathroom, catching up on hockey trivia—you can talk to my therapist. Hijack my session.”
I breathe out a soft laugh. “You’d let me do that?”
“It’s really not as sweet as it might sound. I really don’t like spilling my guts out to the lady. I’d much prefer puking them into the toilet while you discuss your nightly-dock issues and phone-throwing habits with the lady. She’ll like you, I promise—you smell good.”
A jet of warmth washes through me remembering the note he wrote me back in middle school—that he liked the way I smelled. It tugs at my heart.
I’m so messed up.
“Look, I have to text your dad that I found you,” Shane says. “He was understandably frantically worried. You really, really shouldn’t come out here alone. Throw a rock at my window. I’ll come with you. But I’ll do my usual—ignore you silently while you sob at the stars.”
My heart explodes again, realizing again that he’s witnessed me doing this before. Witnessed me and never said a word—even though he thinks I’m a “Witchy Woman.”
I grimace. “It’s really embarrassing that you know I do that.”
He grins weakly. “Hey, at least I don’t write a book about it.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Touché.”
CHAPTER 27
You’d think after that (sort of) (thoroughly) touching moment with Shane—you know, with him admitting he’s a nice guy and follows me while I do my crazy—you’d think he would ease up on his “Witchy Woman” blasting. But no. Every time he hears me in my room—Witchy Woman.
I guess I deserve it—in his eyes. I mean, I did call him a monster, and I dated his enemy for years, and accused him of being a thief, and called him “bad element.” Not exactly nice stuff, I guess.
Please Love Me Back Page 6
