Please Love Me Back Read online

  My heart exploded. Shane had been talking about me? Yay! Happiness!!

  But then Blake went on (and crushed my heart), “He was making fun of you. He said you were bawling over his poem.”

  Pain sliced through me. It felt like I’d just been slugged in the stomach. “I—I was.”

  I swallowed. “I did.”

  “He made fun of you for it,” Blake said looking sympathetic. Then he went on, “But I think it was sweet. I wish you would cry over my poems.”

  “You write about zombies.”

  He grinned. “Don’t they make you want to cry? Eyeballs popping out and stuff?”

  Actually, Shane had written about zombies first. Then all the guys in our class started copying him. I don’t mention this to Rich Boy though. He’s rich and popular and on the school’s football team. My mom would approve of him. She would (and actually has) encouraged me to be friends with him (unlike Heart-shattering Shane, who she would die if I became friends with). My mom plays tennis with Blake’s mom. I don’t think he knows this. I don’t think he’s ever noticed me before—not until Shane talked to him about me.

  I bit my lip, not sure what to think of him—Blake-The-Sudden-Flirter.

  “Do you want to go to the movies with me later today?” he asked. “There’s an excellent zombie movie playing. It will make you cry.”

  I laughed, “I don’t actually enjoy crying.”

  “Good,” he said with a smile. “Because it probably won’t really make you cry. It will make you squirm and sit really close to me—for protection.”

  He gave me a flirty look, “Would you like to sit close to me?”

  “Maybe.”

  I couldn’t believe I was saying that, since all day long I’d been dreaming about Shane Shade. But hey, the dude had laughed about me! He was obviously a jerk. It hurt my feelings and my heart to learn that. But apparently even a guy with sad eyes can be a dirt-wad. So … the word “maybe” came from my lips as much to wipe out my hurting thoughts of Shane than anything else. Besides, my mom was always encouraging me to be friends with Blake, and like I said, she’d die if I was friends with Shane. So, this works out, I tried to reason with myself.

  Blake smiled at my answer. “Good, because I want to sit really close to you,” he said.

  He took my hand, then peeked up at me. “Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?”

  Whoa! WHAT is going on???

  I swallowed. Then jerkily nodded. Boy, the dude was fast. But I had to admit, he was handsome and made me feel special. I needed that after pining all day over a boy that had apparently been laughing at me with his friends. Jerk!

  We walked down the school hallway together, holding hands and talking all flirty and friendly-like. Well, he was. I was just trying to get over my dreams about Shane being my first boyfriend. It was kind of hard for me to switch gears so fast. But I knew I should. So, I was trying. Really, really hard.

  Then suddenly—pow! From out of nowhere, Shane Shade punched Blake in the nose.

  I swear—it was from out of nowhere!

  One minute Blake was holding my hand, talking all flirty to me about the movie we were going to see, then—pow! Shane slugged Blake.

  Shane knocked Blake to the ground, then gave me a look of disgust. I was in total shock.

  “Why’d you do that?!” I shrieked.

  Shane glared down at bleeding Blake. “He knows why,” Shane growled.

  I quickly kneeled down beside poor innocent wounded Blake, my heart slamming hard against my chest. “There’s no excuse for it,” I snapped at Shane. “You’re a monster!”

  Shane only grunted at me.

  He gave me a cold, hard look, then stomped down the hallway, punching lockers as he stormed off.

  Whoa, the dude was in a violent rage. And a violent lunatic. I looked back down at bleeding Blake in shock. “What was that about?”

  “Who knows,” Blake muttered. “The dude has screws loose.”

  I was still in complete shock. “I—I thought he was your friend?”

  “I thought so too,” Blake muttered. “But he’s like this. He’s got a temper—and he’s messed up.”

  “I’ll say,” I grumbled.

  Wow. My mom was right—Shane Shade was trouble.

  CHAPTER 5

  I never found out what that fight was between Shane and Blake. But after that, they were complete enemies and came to blows if either of them were even just in the same vicinity of each other. It was disturbing. And scary. Especially because Blake was a complete gentleman and nice-guy … as long as Shane wasn’t around. But Shane and him—they couldn’t be in the same room as each other without fighting. If they were ever assigned in the same class, within the first five minutes it seemed, they were sent to the office for fighting.

  … and Shane always had to switch classes.

  To be fair though—it did always seem it was Shane’s fault. I mean, from what I ever witnessed, it was always Shane that started the fights. The interesting thing was though, Shane seemed kind of nice the rest of the time—seemed like it. But of course I knew better. Because if he was anywhere near Blake he growled and threw punches.

  Like I said, it was scary.

  But other than that—Shane Shade, I mean—other than him and his obsessive penchant to fight with sweet Blake—other than that, Blake was absolutely perfect. I adored him. He ended up being the lead in the school play with me and we hit it off, and became a “couple.”

  Blake was my very first boyfriend and I adored him. Which meant I avoided Shane. It wasn’t really that hard, since Shane did the same thing. He avoided me like I had the plague.

  But he did end up in some of my classes, since he didn’t actually fight with me ever. He would just ignore me pretty much. However, once he couldn’t quite do that. He couldn’t help it—he had to acknowledge me, since we ended up being assigned to the same group in Biology class, and he couldn’t quite ignore me there. Though he tried.

  However, one day as were cleaning up after dissecting a pig fetus, he actually talked to me. He took the disgusting tray from me and said, “I’ll clean it up.”

  When I blinked up at him in surprise (since he had totally ignored me the entire length of the project—which had gone on for weeks) he gave me a sardonic look. “You look like you’re going to puke,” he said in explanation, like he needed one in order to be nice to me—which I guess he probably did.

  However, he was right. I was going to puke. Or at least I felt like it. I stood near the trashcan, ready to lurch for it any second. The class hour had been barf-worthy, and the mess was disgusting! The whole assignment had turned my stomach.

  “Hey Jake, how much would you pay me to drink this?” I heard Shane ask one of his hockey teammates.

  “Whoa, that’s nasty stuff,” Jake said, looking like he might puke himself. Then he stunned me by saying, “—I’ll give you ten bucks.”

  Groan!!!

  Shane seemed pleased. Even more so when a friend of his said, “I’ll add five bucks—if you’ll really do it.”

  Shane said quickly, “I will. Let me see your money.”

  As they gathered their cash, Shane asked the other guys from the group next to us how much they would pay him to drink it—the refuse from the bio-mess we weren’t even to dump into the sink because of its toxic potential (!!!).

  I couldn’t believe it, the guys all started pulling their money together! They were going to pay to see him drink the toxic sludge. My stomach turned. Feeling sick, I had to turn away from them.

  Shane eagerly took their money. He made a toast.

  “Don’t,” I begged him as he brought the nasty brew to his lips, ready to down the toxic mixture for our group’s freakish entertainment—and cold, hard cash.

  He peeked at me with bewilderment.

  “Don’t do it,” I whispered.

  He grinned slightly, still looking bewildered. “Aw, you care.”

  His grin quirked, “I’m touched.”

  H
owever, he was totally disregarding me. Totally. He went to drink it.

  I blurted out, “Please don’t.”

  I begged it.

  Pausing slightly, he peeked at me curiously again, but only for the briefest of seconds, then to my horror, he went to drink the toxic mixture anyway.

  “I’m begging you, Shane—please Don’t. Do. It.”

  He paused with a wince, for a moment still holding the cup to his lips, but then he sighed. Finally, he slowly put it down.

  With obvious reluctance he gestured for the disappointed guys to take back their money.

  “Come on dude!” they groaned in demented dismay.

  “I’ll pay you another five,” one of the guys coaxed.

  Shane looked a little tempted, but he said firmly, “Nah, the chick begged. I can’t resist a begging chick.”

  “Come on, we’ll pay you more,” they coaxed.

  “Yeah, we’ll pay you double,” Jake announced.

  Shane tilted his head, his eyes glistened with interest, like Now we’re getting somewhere.

  I gushed out quickly, “I’ll pay you triple not to.”

  The words burst from me since he seemed ready and eager to take them up on their new offer.

  Shane gave me a curious look, it lasted a long time. His shoulders rose and fell as I held my breath. His eyes still on me he said slowly to the guys, “Sorry, I got a better offer.”

  A jet of relief washed through me. For a moment. However, I didn’t actually have the money to pay for him not to be an idiot—and, you know, die. My mom had just recently been diagnosed with cancer. Money was tight at our house. We were reeling in medical bills.

  However, I quickly started digging through my backpack for any money I could find.

  “I’m not going to take your money, Cheerleader,” Shane said as he watched me dig frantically.

  “Oh.”

  His forehead touched mine. “Why didn’t you just let me take theirs? I needed the money.”

  Whoa! The curious intimate gesture from him caused major sparks and tingles to explode through my body, and my heart to practically leap out of my chest.

  I swallowed hard and quickly backed away from him, trying to act unaffected as I muttered, “The money wouldn’t have done you much good if you were dead.”

  Shane shrugged and grinned wryly, “I might not have died.”

  He said it matter-of-factly, as though he’d been quite willing to take that chance—which he obviously had been. Which was heartbreaking and disturbing (which actually summed the guy up pretty well: Heartbreaking and disturbing).

  I quickly opened the door to leave class. “Sorry if I didn’t want you to die,” I muttered.

  He grinned. “Again, I’m touched.”

  Walking down the hallway, him right beside me, I rolled my eyes. “I don’t want snakes to die either—doesn’t mean I like them.”

  His eyes twinkled. “But would you pay triple to keep them alive?”

  “No, I wouldn’t pay anything to keep them alive. But to tell you the truth, I didn’t actually have the money to keep you alive either.”

  His grin twitched with amusement. “No. I didn’t figure you did.”

  Then he added, “And just so you know, I didn’t expect you to actually pay anyway—since I’m a ‘monster’ and everything.”

  I winced at the word. A tangle of emotions crashed through me remembering I had called him that the day he first punched Blake.

  A strange heart-stabbing feeling washed through me that he remembered it as well—me calling him a monster.

  It did crazy things to my heart—squeezed it and ripped it to shreds.

  However, I quickly—determinedly—reminded myself he had laughed about me to his friends that day—and, yeah, he had punched poor innocent Blake in the nose! He was a monster.

  So, with a large amount of chill I quickly said, “Look, don’t read anything into it. I just didn’t want you to die and ruin play practice—our biology teacher is in charge of it today.”

  Shane groaned around a sardonic grin. With a faint smile he said, “Yeah. Well. Couldn’t ruin that for you—you up there on stage, singing with your scum-bag boyfriend.”

  I tilted my head. “Why do you hate him so much anyway?”

  He stared into my eyes. “Figure it out, cheerleader.”

  Um … er—???

  The way he was suddenly looking at me had me on fire. “I—I should go.”

  I stammered the words out quickly, not actually really, truly wanting to say them. At all. Shamefully, I just wanted to stare back into his eyes the way he was staring into mine. But he’s a monster, I tried to remind myself, and he’s Blake’s total enemy.

  So, I quickly took a giant step away from him.

  A low discouraged grunt noise came from Shane when I did that—stepped away from him. But our eyes remained locked on each other’s. I couldn’t move. I’m going to faint!

  Shane’s lips parted slightly. Maybe he could hear my wildly pounding heart.

  Only then he said softly—

  “I’m sorry about your mom.” He said it so softly.

  My eyes instantly welled with tears. Oh! Why did he say that? How did he even know?

  I swallowed hard. My voice hitching I choked out, “My aunt told you?”

  He tilted his head, his eyes still intently on me. “Who’s your aunt?”

  My mom had always made my aunt promise not to tell her foster kids that I was related to her. I guess my aunt kept her promise. Also, my aunt never showed up at any family events. Even now they were “at odds.” Though now my aunt came over every day. Brought us food, cared for my mom as best as she could, when my mom would let her.

  But my mom really, really didn’t want me to associate with my aunt’s ever transient foster kids. Now she would want it even worse—since she couldn’t watch over me.

  Instead of answering Shane I blinked up at him. “H—how did you know?”

  His sad dark eyes went all soft. “Your poem.”

  My stomach dropped. My poem! He had figured it out from my poem?! I’d had to read the torturous thing in front of the whole class the other day. I had made it all cryptic and purposely unrecognizable. But he figured it out? He was probably the only person on the face of the planet that did. After I had read it, practically crying, the teacher had asked people what they thought of it. Most had liked it, and said it sounded sad. But no one “got” it. They all asked me about it—what it meant. No one got it at all … except Shane. The monster.

  My lips parted.

  Before I had time to say anything Shane inched closer to me and quickly sniffed the curve of my neck.

  He did it right as Blake turned the corner and saw us together.

  Blake raced to us, quickly pulling chuckling Shane away from me.

  They started throwing punches and fighting. As usual. I tried to get them to stop, but it took a teacher to pull them apart. He dragged them down to the principal’s office.

  I watched them go with my heart pounding violently against my chest. Apparently Shane had only sniffed my neck because he saw Blake coming and he knew it would make Blake ballistic. Which it did.

  Shane really was a monster.

  It was disturbing that I had adored him being so close to me.

  But I did.

  CHAPTER 6

  My mother died towards the end of my sophomore year of high school. The entire year was a grieving, massive horrible haze. Blake had been a supportive, loving rock through the whole ordeal. He got me through it. I loved him dearly for that.

  Any lingering warm thoughts I had for Shane Shade subsided. We didn’t have any classes together our junior year. I forgot about him. Pretty much. (Thankfully.)

  The only reason I ever thought about him at all was because he became very tight and heavy with this beautiful senior, Trisha. Trisha was a co-lead in our town’s local play with me. We spent a lot of time together. I was shocked when I first heard she was with Shane—like a couple
with him.

  “Oh, I know,” she had laughed at my shock. “He’s not the type I usually go for. He’s brooding and troubled—but it kind of called to me. Plus, you know, he’s totally hot.”

  I couldn’t argue there—about any of it, actually. But to me she wasn’t his type either. She was rich and snobby—so not what he usually associated with, or seemed to crave. Usually he was mouth-to-neck with wild party girls. But then again, he didn’t usually “date” those girls. He just made-out with girls like that. Lots of them. (Lots and lots.) So, Trisha was different on many levels.

  “My parents don’t know we’re still together,” Trisha said. “They made me break-up with him the minute they found out we were together. We meet on the sly. It’s very covert.” She made it sound like it was super romantic.

  “How did you even get together?” I asked, way more curious about their relationship than I felt comfortable with. I mean, what was wrong with me? I had an absolutely wonderful boyfriend. So why was I so intrigued and interested in their relationship?—and slightly jealous of Trisha? Jealous that she was the one to tame tortured Shane?

  Trisha smiled impishly, “Well, I first met him when he fixed my car—he’s a mechanic. Can you believe it? I’m dating a mechanic! But anyway, while he was fixing my car, he told me he was in a band. And, you know, I sing—duh! So, I told him I was interested in maybe singing in his band sometime if they were any good—which it turned out they were! They were insanely awesome—well, we’re insanely awesome, since I’m in his band now too. We rock. You should come hear us.”

  I was stunned. “Shane Shade is in a band?”

  “Yep, he plays the guitar. He’s soooo good. I think that’s why I drool over him so much. Well, that, and because he’s smokin’ hot—duh. You should come hear our band, though. We seriously rock.”

  I shook my head. No way. “I can’t go hear a band that Shane Shade is a part of. Shane and my boyfriend are total enemies.”

  Trisha laughed. “Oh. Shane has a lot of those. He doesn’t hold back. If a person makes him mad, he beats the grill out of them.”

  “Yeah, but Blake doesn’t even do anything to him. I guess they used to be friends, apparently. But now if Shane just sees Blake, he practically balls up his fists on the spot.”