Seeing Shane Gray ✓

thirty five | dorky

Maybe being Shane's just-friend isn't so bad either.

"So now you can have this pen that I gave you just as I have --" He reached into the neck of his shirt and pulls out a pendant I'd completely forgotten about. "-- this of yours."

I stare at the pendant, wondering if he's been wearing it all this time or if he just put it on to prove his point to me tonight. The thought that something I had randomly given him in a joke held such value to him makes me feel giddy inside. Not to mention his clear concern for my fear of needles which most people in my life have always laughed at.

Shane truly is incredible.

"You are so weird," I mumble as he hands me the box and the pen and some pamphlets he'd clearly grabbed off some paramedic store counter.

"Does it bother you?"

I nod quickly. "It's not fair," I admit. "People are not supposed to be both charming and dorky at the same time, okay? You shouldn't be so nice and smart and cute and --"

"You think I'm cute?" Shane asks, his eyes two bright stars in the dim lighting.

I roll my eyes and huff. "Stop fishing for compliments," I whine. "It makes me awkward."

Snickering at my failed attempts to seem unaffected by his contagious smile, Shane reaches out and takes my hand in his. I don't pull back, eyeing his fingers as they wind through mine. The memory of him pulling his hand out of mine yesterday and stepping away from me flickers on my mind's eye and I blink it back. The bitterness lingers, though, and Shane probably notices too, his grip loosening on my hand.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he says, his voice suddenly lower.

"Don't worry about it," I mumble, not meeting his gaze.

"I swear, I don't know what happened," he admits. "I guess I ... freaked out? I know that's no excuse but, I don't know, I panicked. I didn't want Mom to start about not knowing who you are or question you about --"

"Shane, it's okay," I assure him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "I get it. Forget what happened. Tell me instead what happened after I left. Is your mom still mad at you? What about your dad?"

My attempt to shift the focus away from what he's saying and to what he's experiencing fails dramatically when Shane refuses to budge. Pursed lips and furrowed brow, he keeps his gaze fixed on me like he's expecting me to realize he's not going to let me change the subject or shake it off this time. He's persistent about having this conversation and I'm having it whether I like it or not.

I sigh.

"Okay, fine," I confess at last. "It felt bad."

"I know it did and I'm sorry," he says without a beat, sincerity dripping from his voice.

"And now you're apologizing," I mumble, cringing. "Stop ruining my mental image of normal boys. I'll be single forever because of you."

"Not while I'm around," Shane counters my joke with a serious answer. "I like you, Tay. Like, really like you. And I want you as my girlfriend but I don't want to create more problems for the two of us --"

"I know," I say quickly, wishing he'd stop talking like that.

"It's not fair to you," he goes on as I didn't interrupt him. "You've got enough problems as it is and trying to juggle this mess is just going to end up hurting us in the long run."

I nod, my lips sealed as I wait for him to get to his point. The happiness I felt moments ago has evaporated in the wake of his words, replaced by an overwhelming sense of regret. To think Shane was telling me how much he likes me just before he started listing all the reasons we shouldn't be together. It's not like I should care. It's not like I like him or anything.

I don't.

At least I'm trying not to.

"Taylor?"

I exhale a deep breath. "I know, Shane, I get it," I say, reassuring him. "I get that we can't be together because you have priorities. You have football, and your parents to keep happy, and college admission, and all of that. I'm not complaining."

"Yeah, but ... I don't know."

I look up at Shane and see him frowning, chewing absentmindedly on his lower lip. His fingers, still wound through mine, are clammy and it's apparent he's having a battle in his own mind.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I like you," he says.

I snort. "Yeah, that's wrong --"

"That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I like you, Taylor," he says firmly. "I like you and I don't care about all the reasons I shouldn't. Even as I say them, I feel like they're stupid excuses I keep making up to convince myself that this is all a bad idea. I mean, look at me, stalking your house like a total creep and texting you to come out past midnight. It's fucking insane."

"Or romantic, depending on how you see it," I tease.

The corners of his lips twitch. "And you call me weird," he teases back.

I shrug. "We're both weird."

"I like weird." Shane smiles.

"Same." I smile back.

For a few long moments, we just sit there, our hands knotted, our minds whirring. It's strange how quickly the air between us shifts. One minute we're both totally comfortable, the next everything is strained, before it gets calm again. Whatever strange relationship is between us is calm like the wind and yet tumultuous like an ocean. Beautiful but unpredictable.

"I like you," Shane says.

"How many more times will you say that?" I chuckle.

"As many times as it takes for you to say it back."

"I like you," I say, not putting much thought into it.

As soon as the words leave my lips, though, I feel the full force of them weighing down upon me. Heat creeps up my cheeks and it suddenly feels so different sitting next to Shane, holding his hand. I glance at him to see him smiling knowingly. It's like he knew this would happen.

Saying something aloud changes it. Makes it more real. Harder to ignore.

Maybe that's why he feels that way, like he's just making excuses to keep himself away from me. Confessing that I, too, have feelings for him makes me feel the same way. Suddenly, it doesn't matter that there are so many reasons we shouldn't be together. They're outweighed and outnumbered by all the reasons we should.

And no matter how many times I tell myself 'no', my heart says 'yes'.

Exactly like Shane's touch does.

*.*.*.*.*.*

A/N: Thank you TheGirlWithTheCornet for telling me about the insulin pen and giving Shane the idea for this gift. This chapter is for Pike_Power123 who thinks I'm trying to kill her by not updating before May. Lol.

Seriously, though, I wanted to give you some happy Shane and Tay moments. Because, let's face it, we all know I'm going to hurt them lots before the story ends. Is it just me or this story of mine hasn't made anyone cry yet? It's really light-hearted and sweet (aside from some bits about Carter) <3