Page 116 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart

“Smooth,” Jameson teases, handing me approximately seventeen napkins.

“This is why I can’t have nice things.”

“Speaking of nice things…” His eyes drift to my wrist. “The bracelet looks good on you.”

I touch it automatically. “Yeah, about that. There’s something I should tell you.”

We’re sitting on a bench overlooking the beach. I tell him about losing it at the lake, the frantic searching, and finding it on the bathroom counter this morning.

“You think Robbie went back for it?” Jameson asks when I finish.

“Who else could it have been? Adam was with me, and my dad would have given it to me directly.”

Jameson shakes his head. “I mean, going back to the lake at night and diving around in the dark? That’s a pretty big gesture.”

“That’s Robbie. He doesn’t do anything halfway.”

“He must really love you.”

“Yeah,” I say softly. “I don’t think he knows how to say it to my face right now.”

Jameson takes my hand in his. “He’ll figure it out.”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying.”

“Because it’s true.” He squeezes my fingers. “Want to know what I think?”

“Always.”

“I think your brother’s scared. You and Adam have always been his constants, right? And now Adam’s maybe leaving, and you’re dating me, and everything’s changing. He’s probably freaking out about where he fits.”

“He fits right where he’s always fit,” I say.

“Yeah, but sometimes when everything around you changes, you forget that some things can stay the same.”

The neon lightsof Lucky Leo’s Arcade assault my retinas the second we walk through the door. A giant animatronic lion wearing a crown greets us from above the prize counter, its mechanical roar competing with the electronic soundtrack playing through the speakers.

Our group scatters like pool balls after the break. Matthew drags Tyler, Cameron, and Brett toward the racing games; Ethan finds theStreet Fightergame he mentioned; and Adam appears, heading for the basketball hoops.

I’m about to follow Jameson to the air hockey table when I notice Robbie hanging back by the entrance, looking uncertain. Our eyes meet for the millionth time today. He shifts his weight, and I wonder if he’s going to bolt. Then something in his expression changes—a tiny crack in the wall he’s built—and he jerks his head toward the claw machines. It’s not much, but it’s something.

I glance at Jameson, who’s already witnessed the whole exchange. He gives me a small nod and mouths “Go” before joining Ethan.

The claw machine section is tucked into a corner, away from the main chaos. Robbie stands in front of one filled with those ridiculous knockoff Beanie Babies that no one wants but everyone tries to win anyway.

“Remember when we were ten?” he says without looking at me. “You wanted a purple elephant and made me and Adam pool our allowances to get it for you.”

“Fifteen dollars,” I say, moving to stand beside him. “We spent fifteen dollars trying to get a three-dollar stuffed animal.”

“Dad was furious.” A ghost of a smile crosses his face. “Said we could’ve bought five elephants for that price.”

“But it wouldn’t have been the same.” I dig out quarters from my pocket. “Want to try again? I have…” I count the coins. “Two dollars and thirty-five cents.”

Robbie turns to face me. His eyes drop to my wrist where the bracelet catches the arcade lights, and something passes over his face—relief, maybe, or satisfaction.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Let’s do it.”

We feed the quarters into the machine. Robbie takes the first turn, maneuvering the claw with the same intensity he brings to football. It descends toward a blue bear, grabs it, lifts it…and drops it halfway to the chute.