Page 109 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart
“We did it!” I laugh, the adrenaline making me feel nothing less than invincible.
“We did it,” he agrees, pulling me close.
All around us, the chaos and shouts from the trestle echo across the water, but I couldn’t care less. The two of us are in the center of the lake, suspended in the aftershock of doing something death-defying.
The cold that seeps into my bones doesn’t chill me as expected. Because being next to Jameson Hart is akin to standing too close to an open flame. The bracelet on my wrist is slick and heavy, and when I lift my arm, the two tiny masks glint in the moonlight, evidence that this isn’t a dream.
Maybe it’s the adrenaline or the fact that my heart is a helium balloon trying to break loose from my rib cage, but I don’t overthink my next move.
I lean in, water streaming from my hair and my nose burning with lake, and kiss him. My boyfriend.
I’d practiced this moment a thousand times in my head, but the reality is better than I could have ever imagined. Sure, it’s awkward at first because we’re both treading water, bumping noses, chins, and limbs. But it’s also perfect…because it’s us.
A part of me wants to break the kiss so that I can scream at the top of my lungs that I’m making out with Jameson Hart. But then he places one large hand on the side of my face, and suddenly, all the oxygen in my body escapes me.
His touch is tender and warm, holding me as if I’m the most valuable piece of jewelry in the world. His tongue sweeps across mine in an intricate dance I didn’t know he knew. My legs wind themselves around his waist, and his other hand grips my thigh and squeezes. Our bodies slot together perfectly, two puzzle pieces finally finding their match.
When I open my eyes, stars swim above us, doubled in the ripples of the lake. Our classmates are still jumping, shrieking,and making as much noise as possible. Jameson pulls back, and I get the distinct impression that he’s memorizing every inch of me for later.
I’m waiting for the chorus of whoops and jeers that always follows a kiss at a party, but here in the shadowy water, no one notices. Or if they do, they pretend not to care. I find that I love it, because that means this moment is all mine.
Jameson bumps his forehead against mine and whispers, “You’re a menace, Kevin Pryor.”
I want to say something clever back, but my face is frozen in this stupid grin. “You started it.”
He tilts his head, eyebrow cocked. “Did not.”
“Did too.”
We’re still holding onto each other, barely afloat, when he kisses me again—quick this time, but just as electric. When he finally lets go, I drift onto my back, my arms and legs spread wide. Jameson does the same.
The commotion from the trestle fades into background noise, and the growing silence allows me to think about the kid I was when summer began. The one who kept his head down and waited for life to happen, who only spoke up if it was for a punchline or a stage cue. I think about every moment I almost said something but didn’t, every part I wanted but was too afraid to audition for, every secret that was too heavy to let rise to the surface.
None of it matters now.
I’m here in the lake, alive and real and in love, or at least dangerously close to it.
I’m still floatingon air when we pull into our driveway. My hair drips water onto the headrest, and my bare feet leave impressions in the floor mat. I do my best not to think about the ass print I leave on the seat, and how it’ll be Dad’s job to get it out.
The second we step through the front door, Robbie brushes past me without a word. His footsteps pound up the stairs, each one louder than necessary. The slam of his bedroom door rattles the family photos on the wall.
“Guess I’m bunking with you again,” I tell Adam, who’s already heading toward his room.
In Adam’s room, I peel off my damp clothes and grab a towel from his closet. The smell of Archer’s Creek clings to everything. It’s a mix of algae and summer that no longer seems gross when you’re in love. Or whatever this feeling is that makes my chest too small for my heart.
“So,” Adam says, pulling his wet shirt over his head, “that was quite the show tonight. And I’m not talking about yourAmerican Idolaudition.”
I towel my hair, avoiding his eyes. He tosses his shirt in the hamper and turns to face me, arms crossed.
When I don’t say anything, he breaks the silence. “You and Jameson practically swallowed each other’s faces in front of everyone.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “We did not?—”
“Kevin, I saw you. You weren’t exactly subtle.”
I sink onto his bed, clutching the towel around my shoulders. “Was it that obvious?”
Adam’s expression softens. He rolls his desk chair over to me and sits. “Look, I’m happy for you. Really. But we need to talk about some things.”
