Page 5 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart
Flashing my brother a thumbs-up, I put my theater skills to the test and do the world’s fastest quick-change. I grab my sandals from under the bed and slip my feet into them. I swap my oversized Star Wars shirt, which I stole from Dad, for a clean black one that saysDrama Queenacross the chest in rhinestones. It was a Christmas present from Rita that I swore I’d never wear in public. Since it’s the middle of the night, no one I know is going to see me in it. I throw on a zip-up hoodie, though, just in case. If we get stopped by the cops, I want to be presentable in my mugshot.
Adam is waiting in the hall, scrolling through his phone. He looks up with an impatient sigh. “Took you long enough.”
We creep down the staircase, dodging the one creaky step that Dad promises to fix but still hasn’t. In the kitchen, Adam grabs the car keys from the junk drawer stuffed with takeout menus, expired coupons, and a truly impressive collection of rubber bands.
We’re almost to the front door when Dad’s voice breaks the silence. “Where are you two headed?”
I consider faking a sleepwalking episode, but Adam answers. “Diner.”
Dad grunts his approval from his favorite recliner in the living room. He doesn’t even peel his eyes from the TV that’s playing a late-night rerun ofFriends.Ironically, it’s the one where they’re up all night.
Outside, the air is thick with humidity and the smell of cut grass. Our driveway glows under a nearby street light, shining a spotlight on our getaway vehicle—the minivan.
Adam unlocks it with a soft beep that sounds too loud in the stillness. He tosses his phone into the cupholder while I slide into the passenger seat. The engine rumbles to life, and the radio comes on full volume. I turn it down and smile as we slowly back out of the driveway and head off into the night.
Everything isdifferent when Arcadia sleeps. The cheerful houses with their expansive yards now huddle together. Porch lights create small pools of yellow warmth, but between them stretches an ocean of shadows. The stop signs glow with an otherworldly red.
We pass the elementary school where we all learned to read. The playground equipment has transformed into strange metal skeletons. The swings hang perfectly still without a breeze to move them. The parking lot stretches, empty and vast.
“Weird seeing the town dead,” Adam says, reading my mind as usual.
“Yeah.” I watch a stray cat dart across the road and disappear into the bushes. “It’s like we’re the only people left in the world.”
We take a shortcut through the park where Dad taught us to ride bikes, meander around the baseball diamond where Adamhit his first and only home run, and pull up at a red light beside a bike rack where Robbie once got his head stuck between the bars.
When we reach Main Street, Adam parallel parks in a spot on the road. The shops that bustle with tourists during the day are now dark and silent. The signs have been flipped to “closed,” and all the blinds have been shuttered. It’s almost depressing.
Stepping out of the minivan, the silence presses in on me from all sides. No seagulls crying. No children laughing. No vendors hawking their wares. Only the distant hum of a generator and our footsteps on the sidewalk.
I hate how exposed we are out here, how our footsteps echo on the sidewalk. Every shadow could hide something sinister. The alleyways between the buildings could spell danger. My heart threatens to beat right out of my chest.
Without thinking, I link my arm through Adam’s. He gives me a funny look, one eyebrow raised. “Kev?”
“The quiet is freaking me out,” I admit, tightening my grip on his arm. “It’s too much like a horror movie. You know, right before the zombie jumps out and eats someone’s face.”
Adam’s expression softens, and he doesn’t pull away. “There are no zombies in Arcadia.”
“That’s exactly what someone says before the zombies show up.”
We walk arm in arm past Pages & Prose, the local bookstore. The few books on display can’t comfort me right now. Mannequins stand frozen in the windows of the thrift store, their blank faces turned toward the street. I shiver despite the warm night air.
“Remember when we used to sneak out in middle school?” Adam asks in an attempt to distract me from my zombie paranoia.
“You and Robbie snuck out. I stayed in bed like a good child.”
“You came with us that one time.”
“Because you guilt-tripped me!” I hiss. “And then I spent the whole night convinced Dad was going to catch us and ground us forever.”
Adam chuckles. “He did catch us. He was waiting in the kitchen when we got back.”
“And he made us do yard work for a month.” I groan at the memory. “My hands still have phantom blisters.”
The diner finally comes into view, its neon sign casting pink and blue light onto the sidewalk. Through the windows, I see a few late-night customers hunched over coffee cups and plates of pie. The sight of other humans calms my nerves. My shoulders relax and my stomach unclenches.
“Better?” Adam asks as I finally loosen my death grip on his arm.
“Much.” I push open the diner door, and the bell above it chimes. “First one to the booth picks what we order.”
