Page 113 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart
“Robbie,” Adam confirms.
My chest does something complicated—part squeeze, part flutter. Robbie, who hasn’t spoken to me in days. Robbie, who called me self-centered and locked me out of our room. Robbie, who apparently spent his night diving in dark water to find my bracelet.
“But why wouldn’t he just give it to me?” I ask.
Adam shrugs. “You know Robbie. He’s proud. Stubborn. Probably doesn’t know how to bridge the gap after everything he said.”
“So he does this instead?” I stare at the bracelet, throat tight. “Goes to Archer’s Creek in the middle of the night like some kind of jewelry-hunting ninja?”
“Sounds like him.” Adam’s voice is soft. “Grand gestures instead of actual words.”
Adam picks up the bracelet and gestures for me to hold out my arm. He fastens it around my wrist where it belongs. The metal is cool against my skin, but it warms quickly. “What do I do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do I thank him? Do I pretend I don’t know?”
“Let him come to you when he’s ready.”
I nod, touching the little masks on the bracelet. They’re grimy with mud, like Adam said, but they’re here. They’re mine again.
“And Kevin?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time you have a eureka moment?” Adam’s trying not to smile. “Maybe grab some pants first. I’m going to need therapy after tonight.”
“You’re such a baby.” But I’m smiling too.
After I get dressed, I head out of Adam’s room, passing mine and Robbie’s door to get to the stairs. I pause.
The music is still playing—something angry and bass-heavy. I picture him in there, at his desk, pretending to do the last bit of his summer reading while stressing over whatever internal war he’s fighting.
I press my palm against the door, only for a second. A silent thank you he’ll never know about. Then I head downstairs to eat breakfast before heading to the beach to spend Labor Day with Jameson and all of our friends.
The beach is crowdedwhen we arrive. Everyone’s trying to squeeze in one last day of summer. I climb out of the minivan, and the salt air hits me immediately. It’s one of those perfect days where the sun still has a bite, but the breeze has chilled, and the leaves are changing colors.
“Dibs on the spot by the lifeguard stand!” Tyler shouts, grabbing the coolers from the trunk.
Matthew helps him set up while I adjust my new swim trunks, which I spent forty minutes choosing this morning—though I’ll deny it if ever asked. They’re navy with small octopuses on them, reminding me of my conversation with Jameson once upon a time.
“Hey.” Jameson appears at my elbow, and my heart does its usual acrobatics.
He’s wearing board shorts and a neon pink tank top. The outfit shows off his toned and tanned arms and legs, and I have to remind myself that staring is rude.
“Hey, yourself.” I smile up at him, still getting used to the fact that I can do that now. Smile at my boyfriend without worrying about being too obvious.
Robbie showsup a little while later. He glances at me and Jameson lying on our bellies, suntanning. Our eyes meet for half a second before sliding away. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this cold shoulder thing, but I know that I don’t have to allow it to hurt me any more than it already has.
Ethan is on Jameson’s other side, sketching in his notebook.
“What’s today’s masterpiece?” I ask, peering over my boyfriend’s well-defined back.
“The beach.” He tilts the notebook so I can see his artwork better. It’s amazing, museum-tier work. He’s captured the curve of the shoreline and the way the dunes roll into each other. The spot where the sky meets the ocean. The seagulls in the air and the sailboats in the water. There’s even a crab getting splashed by a wave.
“That’s amazing, Ethan.”
He flushes slightly. “It’s okay. I’m still working on perspective.”
