Page 76 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart
Everyone laughs, including Jameson, who threatens to demonstrate his special “grocery shopping” dance that apparently involves a lot of reaching and cart-pushing motions.
“Please no,” Ethan’s voice carries from somewhere behind us.When did he even get here?“I’ve seen that dance. It’s traumatizing.”
“You weren’t invited,” Jameson calls back.
“Tyler invited me! Right, Tyler?”
Tyler shrugs. “The more the merrier.”
Ethan squeezes onto the log between Matthew and Tyler, stealing half of Matthew’s blanket. “So what are we talking about? Besides my brother’s crimes against rhythm?”
“Senior year,” Rita says, settling back against Robbie. “And all the change that comes with it.”
“Some things stay the same,” Robbie says.
He’s looking at me when he says it, and I know he means us—the Pryor boys. Adam still hasn’t told Robbie about his intent to apply to Stanford. Sometimes, I wonder if Adam will ever tell him. I know if he doesn’t, it’ll be up to me to drop that bomb. But could I? Would I?
I love Robbie; he’s the happiest one of the bunch. To break his heart, to be the one to distinguish his light, it would kill me as much as it would him.
“Okay, but seriously,” Tyler says, “can we talk about how Kevin was actually getting down on the dance floor earlier? Where didthatcome from?”
Heat creeps up my neck. “I have hidden depths.”
“Very hidden,” Adam teases.
“Hey, I thought he was great,” Jameson says. “Maybe you could teach me sometime.”
My heart goes into overdrive. “You want me to teach you to dance?”
“If you’re willing to take on a hopeless case.”
“No one’s hopeless,” I say, very aware that I’m being watched. “But some are rhythmically challenged.”
Conversation flows around us. Tyler argues with Matthew about which NFL team will win this year. Rita describes her hope of assistant directing the fall musical. Adam and Robbie debate whether they should call it a night or let Dad know we’re all staying overnight at Tyler’s. I only half-listen to it all.
My attention is on Jameson’s hands, which have emerged from under the blanket. His thumb traces circles on the fabric while he stares off in the distance with a content expression. I follow his gaze, but I can’t see anything interesting other than the shadows of trees on the other side of the lake and the stars reflecting on the still water.
I don’t realizehow much time has passed until I notice the fire has burned down to glowing embers. The darkness around us has shifted to something softer, grayer. My legs are stiff from sitting in the same position for hours, and the blanket is damp with morning dew.
“Is that...” Rita’s voice trails off as she points toward the horizon.
The sky above the lake is changing. What was pitch black not so long ago now shows the faintest ribbon of purple along the tree line. Then orange bleeds into it, followed by pink.
“Did we seriously pull an all-nighter?” Matthew asks, his voice rough from talking and laughing for hours.
Tyler checks his phone and whistles low. “Five-thirty in the morning.”
Nobody leaves. We all sit there, transfixed, as the sun creeps higher. The lake becomes a mirror, doubling the sunrise. Birds sing their morning calls until the trees around us come alive with sound. A blue heron glides across the water, its wings barely making a sound. Somewhere in the distance, a fish jumps, sending ripples across the perfect reflection. The air shifts from cool to warm as the humidity builds into another scorching day.
“My parents are going to kill me,” Ethan says eventually, though he makes no move to get up. “I was told under no uncertain terms that I wasn’t to follow Jameson to the party.”
Jameson shakes his head ruefully at his younger brother.
“Mine thinks I’m at Matthew’s,” Tyler admits.
“Mine thinks I’m at Jameson’s,” Matthew says, which gets a tired laugh out of us.
The sun is fully visible now, a perfect orange circle above the lake. The fire pit is nothing but ash and a few stubborn embers. Empty cups litter the ground around us. Someone’s phone buzzes with notifications, but nobody checks.
