Page 87 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart
“Are they doingTitanic? They’re totally doingTitanic!”
“Shut up, Ethan!” Jameson calls back, but he’s grinning as he steps away.
A short while later,we’re all gathered in the dining area as the boat gently rocks at anchor. Damien has outdone himself with lunch—cold cuts, fresh fruit, three kinds of salad, and sandwiches that put every deli I know to shame.
“This potato salad is life-changing,” Rita says, helping herself to thirds. She’s claimed the spot next to Damien at the head of the table, much to Robbie’s obvious irritation.
“Old family recipe,” Damien says, pleased. “My mother would be thrilled to know it’s still a hit.”
Dad and Damien have discovered a mutual love for fishing and swiftly engage in a deep discussion about local spots. Adam keeps checking his phone under the table, probably still working up the courage to talk to Robbie about Stanford. Matthew and Tyler are having a sandwich-building competition that involves increasingly ridiculous combinations.
“Pass the pickles,” Tyler demands.
“You already have pickles,” Matthew points out.
“I needmorepickles. It’s a pickle sandwich with meat garnish.”
“That’s disgusting,” Ethan informs him cheerfully.
Through it all, I’m hyperaware of Jameson beside me. Our knees bump constantly under the table. He passes me the fruit salad, and our fingers brush. Every tiny bit of contact sends electricity through my body.
“So, Kevin,” Damien says, pulling me into the conversation. “Jameson tells me you’re quite the theater star.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “I wouldn’t say star exactly.”
“He’s being modest,” Rita jumps in. “Kevin’s insanely talented. You should hear him sing ‘Suddenly Seymour.’”
“Or ‘What You Own,’” Robbie adds, surprising me.
Jameson nudges me with his shoulder. “See? Star.”
After lunch, people scatter across the boat. Dad and Damien take over the fishing rods at the stern. Adam corners Robbie near the coolers, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, he’s going to tell him about Stanford. Rita stretches out on a lounger with a book, though I notice her sunglasses keep drifting toward where Damien stands.
“Want to go back up top?” Jameson asks quietly. “I believe we have a conversation to finish.”
My stomach flips. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
We climb to the upper deck, which is blissfully empty. The sun is high and hot, but the breeze off the water makes itbearable. Jameson leads me to the portside seating area, where we settle on the cushions facing each other.
He stretches his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. His bare feet are unbelievably tan, whereas mine are already reddening.
“So,” I say, proud that my voice is steady.
“So.” He runs a hand through his hair, clearly nervous, which reminds me of that day in English class. “Last week, at the beach, Tyler earned himself a one-way ticket to an early death.”
“He did,” I say with a laugh. “What were you going to say?”
He takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’m just going to say it all at once because if I stop, I might lose my nerve.” He meets my eyes. “I like you, Kevin. As more than a friend. I have for a while now—way longer than you probably think.”
The world tilts.
“I know it probably seems as though this came out of nowhere, with the birthday party and the bookstore and everything, but…” He shifts closer, his left foot pressing against my right. “I’ve noticed you for a long time.”
“How long?” My voice comes out embarrassingly squeaky.
“Do you remember freshman year when the drama club performed part ofBeauty and the Beastfor the whole grade?”
I blink at the sudden topic change. “Yeah?”
