Page 115 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart

“Nice job, Kev,” Adam calls from the other side.

Robbie doesn’t say anything, but I know he’s proud of me. Then Matthew serves, and the moment’s gone.

We play until the sun gets too hot and we’re ready for a water break. I collapse on my towel, sweaty and sandy and weirdly happy despite being terrible at volleyball.

“You did good,” Jameson says, flopping down beside me.

“I hit it three times. Total.”

“Three more than I expected.” He grins when I shove him. “Kidding! You were great.”

“Liar.”

“Great at being adorable while dodging the ball.”

I bury my face in my towel to hide my blush. “Stop.”

“Never.”

The morning flowsinto the afternoon. People come and go from our spot—friends from school stopping to chat, underclassmen brave enough to talk to the senior football players, a few theater kids who are shocked to see me without Rita.

“Hi, Melissa.” I wave awkwardly.

She glances between me and Jameson, clearly doing the math. “Oh my God. Are you two…”

“Dating,” Jameson supplies easily. “We’re dating.”

Melissa’s eyes go wide. “Wow. Okay. That’s unexpected but also kind of perfect?” She grins. “Rita’s going to flip when she hears—oh wait, she probably already knows. Well, enjoy yourbeach day! See you at school! Don’t forget, auditions are in two weeks!”

She hurries off, probably to text everyone she knows about this new development in my life. I groan and flop onto my back. I stare up at the cloudless sky and wonder what it would be like to soar through life as a seagull.

“Auditions?” Jameson asks.

“Fall musical.”

“Are you trying out?”

I shrug. “Probably just for ensemble again.”

“Why not try for a bigger part?”

The question hangs there. Before I can answer, Tyler announces he’s hungry and demands we all go to the boardwalk for food. There’s some debate about whether to pack everything up or leave someone to guard our stuff. Eventually, Adam volunteers to stay behind.

“I need a break from you idiots,” he says, pulling out a book. I recognize it asWicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West.I know it’s my copy because Robbie’s footprint is on it.

“I’ll stay too,” Robbie says quickly. Too quickly.

Everyone pauses. Adam and Robbie exchange a look I can’t read.

“Sure,” Adam says carefully. “That’s…good.”

We leave them to whatever conversation they need to have and head for the boardwalk. The wood burns under our bare feet, and we do that awkward, quick-step dance, trying not to linger too long on any one plank. I normally never go anywhere without my sandals, but Jameson keeps forcing me out of my comfort zone.

“Food first, then arcade?” Matthew suggests.

“Definitely arcade,” Ethan pipes up. “They have the newStreet Fightergame.”

We get pizza from a place that claims to be “World Famous,” despite being a tiny shack that probably hasn’t updated its menu since 1995. The slices are greasy and perfect, and I manage to drip sauce on my swim trunks because I’m me.