Page 41 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart
The car goes quiet except for the hum of the engine. All four sets of eyes are on me, waiting for a response that I don’t want to give.
“No.” Of course, that one simple word has to come out all weird and squeaky.
“That was the least convincing ‘no’ in the history of denials,” Tyler proclaims.
“Yes! It’s someone on the team!” Robbie crows. “Okay, okay, let me think. Is it Jake Morrison? He’s got that whole mysterious thing going on.”
“It’s not Jake Morrison.”
“What about Anthony?” Matthew suggests. “He’s pretty chill, plays the piano…”
“Not Anthony.”
“Carlos?” Tyler throws out. “Dude can bench press a small car.”
“Why would that be attractive?” I ask, genuinely puzzled.
“Some people are into strength.” Tyler shrugs.
They continue throwing out names—guys from the offensive line all the way down to the water boy. Each suggestion makes me sink lower in my seat, wishing I could disappear entirely.
“Could it be Coach Potter?” Robbie muses.
“Ew,” I gag. “He’s old!”
Robbie shrugs. “He’s dad’s age.”
“I don’t think it’s Coach,” Adam chimes in.
“Why not?” Robbie asks, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion.
“Because that would mean Kevin has a daddy kink.”
“Oh, God!” Robbie and I cry out simultaneously.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I say.
“Me too!” Robbie wails.
“Wait,” Matthew says suddenly, and his voice takes on a wounded quality. “I’m hurt, Kevin. Deeply hurt.”
I freeze. “What?”
“Here I thought we had something special.” He places a meaty hand over his heart dramatically. “That comment about my legs made me blush, and now you’ve moved on to someone else?”
My face burns, and I’m surprised the windows don’t fog up.
“My beautifully defined legs mean nothing to you?” He’s really hamming it up now, fake-sniffling. “Was I just a passing fancy?”
“I hate all of you,” I mumble, covering my face with my hands.
“Don’t worry, Matt,” Robbie says consolingly. “You’ll always have your legs.”
“Small comfort,” Matthew sighs.
I need to get control of this situation somehow. Through my fingers, I peek at Tyler. “Actually, if we’re being honest, I’ve moved on to Tyler’s…”Don’t say legs, don’t say legs.“His, uh…”Don’t say arms, don’t say arms.“His feet!”
Seriously, Kevin? His feet? That’s worse than a daddy kink.
