Page 88 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart
“You were a dancing plate. No, wait—” He grins. “A spatula. In ‘Be Our Guest.’ You had this ridiculous costume made of cardboard and aluminum foil, and you were committed to being the best dancing spatula in the history of dancing spatulas.”
“Oh God.” I cover my face with my hands. “That costume was terrible. The foil kept falling off.”
“But you never broke character. Not once.” His voice goes soft. “That’s when I first noticed you, Kevin. This amazing, talented, completely unselfconscious person who could make being a spatula the most important role in the show.”
I lower my hands, staring at him. “I can’t believe you remember me in that.”
“I remember everything.” He’s staring at me with such fiery intensity that I nearly wilt under his gaze. “I remember sophomore year when you guys didFootloose, I snuck in to watch a rehearsal. And in junior year, you did…”
He snaps his fingers, trying to remember the name of the play.
“Once on This Island,” I tell him.
“Yes! Such a cool show. You were dressed all in white?—”
“I was a grand homme.”
“—and everyone else was, too, but somehow, you stood out.”
“Jameson…”
“I should have said something sooner. I know that. But you’re Kevin Pryor, and all I am is the dumb jock who’s good at catching things.”
“You’re not dumb,” I say automatically.
“See? That. Right there.” He gestures at me. “You always do that. See the best in people. Even when I used my brother as an excuse to talk to you at the bookstore, because I was too chicken to ask for book recommendations. I’ve read them all twice, you know.Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agendamade me cry.Cemetery Boysmade me realize I needed to stop being such a chicken shit.” He takes another deep breath. “So this is me not being afraid anymore. I want to take you on dates where I don’t have to pretend we’re two friends getting tacos. Hold your hand without needing the excuse of pulling you somewhere. Maybe kiss you, if that’s something you’d want to do.”
My brain has completely stopped working. “You want to kiss me?”
“Since freshman year, if I’m being honest.”
“That’s…” I do the math. “That’s three years.”
“Two years and five months. But who’s counting?”
A laugh bubbles out of me, airy and disbelieving. “You’ve been interested in me since I was a dancing spatula?”
“Cutest spatula I’ve ever seen. I can’t even use one without thinking of you now, so thanks for that.” He’s wearing a crooked grin that makes my insides melt. “So, what do you say? Want to give this a shot? Fair warning—I’m probably going to be terrible at the boyfriend thing. I’ve never dated a guy before. So, don’t get mad if I say or do something I shouldn’t. I’m a work in progress.”
“I like a work in progress,” I say, smiling from ear to ear.
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a?—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Robbie shouts from the other end of the boat, shattering the most wonderful moment of my life.
CHAPTER 20
beyond the sea
Isprint down the stairs toward the commotion, my heart hammering against my ribs. Jameson follows close behind, our unfinished moment evaporating with a single shout.
“You’ve been lying to me formonths!” Robbie’s voice cracks with fury as we reach the main deck. He’s standing near the coolers, his whole body trembling with rage. Adam faces him, shoulders slumped in defeat.
The rest of our group forms an awkward semicircle—Dad and Damien holding fishing rods, Rita frozen mid-step with her book dangling from one hand, Matthew and Tyler hovering near the cabin entrance, ready to bolt.
“Robbie, let me explain—” Adam starts.
