Page 4 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart
“Cool. Squats. Those are good for your health.”Stop talking, Kevin. Better yet, stop living.
Adam clears his throat. “So. Volleyball?”
“Right. Yes. The ball of volley.”Why am I still talking?
For the next hour, Matthew and Tyler help turn our pathetic game into something Olympic. Tyler sets up plays with the precision of a chess master. Matthew spikes with enough force to create small craters in the ground. Adam and Robbie manage to hold their own, thanks to years of athletic coordination. And I barely stay alive through sheer willpower.
“Kevin, you’re overthinking it,” Matthew coaches after I send the ball into the next court. “Let your body take control.”
I’m grateful that my uncontrollable forwardness hasn’t scared him off. Had this been anywhere else in the world, I’d have gotten a fist to the face. But Arcadia isn’t like other towns. We have a Pride parade every June that rivals anything you’d see in bigger cities. Our mayor officiated his son’s wedding to another man on the beach last summer. The high school has a thriving Gay-Straight Alliance. And various pride flags fly from storefronts year-round.
I know how lucky I am to live in a town where I can be exactly who I am. The only thing that’s missing is a boyfriend tocall my own. It’s not that I haven’t put myself out there—no, it’s exactly that. I’m as awkward as a newborn giraffe. Nobody wants to be with someone who causes secondhand embarrassment on a daily basis.
I need to be way less of a disastrous mess before I can be with someone who understands me and my thousands of theater references a day. Doesn’t mind that I imagine my life as a Broadway show. Won’t judge me for crying when Tony dies inWest Side Story,and is patient enough to deal with my inability to play any sport invented by humans.
Adam’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “It’s your turn to serve, Kev.”
I take the ball from Robbie. Everyone gets into position. All I have to do is pretend I’m inA Chorus Line, and this is another audition where I have to prove I can do more than sing.
I toss the ball up, swing my arm, and make contact. The ball sails over the net in a perfect arc. Tyler bumps it to Matthew, who sends it back to me. Adam and Robbie jump to block. The ball ricochets off Robbie’s hands and lands in bounds on Tyler and Matthew’s side. Everyone gawks.
I shrug, silently pleased with myself. “What can I say? I’m a natural.”
CHAPTER 2
brotherhood of man
Ticktock. Ticktock.
The clock above the bedroom door is more annoying than a metronome. I’ve been awake for hours, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars Robbie stuck to the wooden slats when we were twelve. He picked them out at the dollar store, claiming they’d help me sleep better. Spoiler alert: they don’t.
Above me, Robbie’s bunk creaks as he shifts in his sleep. The familiar sound usually comforts me, but tonight, all it does is remind me that everything is about to change.
We only have two months left of beach days and boardwalk strolls. Of Adam trying to teach me sports I’ll never master and Robbie making terrible jokes—or worse, torturing us with his horrible taste in music. Two months before life shifts into college prep mode and our last year of high school becomes a blur of deadlines and goodbyes.
I roll onto my side and pull the thin sheet up to my chin. The A.C. hums, keeping our room at Dad’s preferred arctic temperature. Despite the closed door, I hear footsteps. Is it Adam? Is he restless tonight too? Is he thinking the same things I am?
I don’t know why I’m stressing. Graduation won’t spell the end of the Pryor boys. We plan to attend Arcadia University in the fall and find an off-campus apartment with three separate bedrooms. Sign up for the same Gen-Ed classes, maybe even join the same clubs.
Adam already has his eye on their football team. Robbie does too, but he’s also considering auditioning for their comedy improv group. Meanwhile, I’m gunning for their theater program, which puts onsixproductions a year.
I sit up, careful not to bang my head on Robbie’s bunk. My Playbill posters stare at me from the opposite wall. The glossy paper catches the moonlight filtering through the blinds. Next to them is the corkboard with pictures of me and my brothers, Dad and Diana, my best friend Rita, and my brothers’ teammates. Everyone important to us.
The bedroom door creaks open. I freeze as if I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t. My body goes lax when I see Adam’s silhouette in the doorway. “Can’t sleep either?” he whispers.
He steps into the room, and I notice something weird. He’s decked out in a bright red Arcadia Knights football tee and gray mesh shorts. And he has on black flip-flops, the same ones he used to wear to the community pool before Dad splurged on a swimming pool for the backyard.
“Why are you dressed?” I ask.
He shrugs, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to be dressed at such a late hour. “Thought you might want to go grab something to eat at the diner.” He tips his head toward the stairs. “You in? Or do you want to keep pretending you’re sleeping?”
I’m not sure when the all-night diner on Main Street became the center of our universe, but it’s now considered holy ground. It’s where the marching band and football team hold their postgame pancake pig-outs. It’s where the drama club debriefsopening nights over milkshakes and fries. It’s where Adam, Robbie, Matthew, and Tyler have their postseason sundae eating contest—which no one has ever won, except Matthew, and, once, Robbie. But only because he cheated.
The very idea of going there with Adam, just the two of us, is almost too tempting to process. I glance at Robbie’s bunk, half expecting him to jump down and demand to tag along. But he’s burrowed under his blanket, his mouth open and snoring louder than a leaf blower. I swear the guy could sleep through a tornado.
“Give me five minutes,” I tell Adam.
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll be downstairs. Don’t wake Robbie.”
