Page 14 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart

“I want the sides buzzed but keep the top long,” Robbie says. “Like a disconnected undercut but not too disconnected, you know?”

“I got you,” Jake says, already reaching for his clippers.

The buzz of the clippers fills the shop, and chunks of my hair fall onto the cape. In the mirror, I watch my shaggy mop transform into something neat and tidy. It’s oddly satisfying.

“So,” I say to Robbie, trying to sound casual, “have you ever had a crush on someone?”

Robbie’s eyes snap to mine in the mirror. A slow grin spreads across his face. “Oh my God. You have a crush on someone.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t have to. You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“The ‘I’m Kevin and I’m being awkward about my feelings’ look.”

Jake chuckles as he works on Robbie’s hair.

“I’m asking theoretically,” I insist.

“Theoretically, my ass.” Robbie leans forward as much as the cape will allow. “Who is it? Come on, you can tell your favorite brother.”

“You’re not my favorite brother.”

“We both know that’s a lie.” He studies me in the mirror. I can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Wait, wait, wait. Is it Matthew?”

I choke on the air. “What?”

“It is Matthew! The leg comment makes so much more sense now!”

“It’s not Matthew!”

“Please. You were drooling over his thighs last month.”

“I made one observation about his muscle definition!”

“While turning the color of a tomato!”

Connor has to pause his cutting because I’m squirming too much. “Dude, you’ve gotta hold still or this is gonna end up uneven.”

“Sorry,” I mutter, trying to calm down. “And for the record, I don’t have a crush on Matthew. His legs are just…notable.”

“Notable,” Robbie repeats, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

“Can we please talk about something else?”

“Absolutely not. This is the most interesting thing that’s happened all summer.” He tilts his head as Jake works on his sideburns. “Now, ‘theoretically,’ if it’s not Matthew, then who? Tyler?”

“It’s not Tyler.”

“Someone from the drama club?”

“No.”

“Someone from school?”

I stay silent, which is apparently answer enough.

“It is someone from school!” Robbie crows. “Do I know them?”

“Everyone knows everyone at our school,” I point out.

“True. But do I know them know them? Like, are they in our circle?”

I almost laugh at Robbie thinking that I’m a part of his circle. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. Sure, the people he’s friends with are cordial with me, but I’m pretty certain that’s because he and Adam have threatened their friends with bodily harm if they aren’t.

I focus on watching Connor work, evening out my buzz cut with practiced precision. The clippers tickle against my neck, sending goosebumps up my arms.

“Your silence is telling,” Robbie says. “Come on, Kev. It’s just me, Jake, and Connor here. They won’t tell. Who’s got you writing Broadway love ballads in your head?”

“Nobody has me writing anything.”

“Please. You probably already have a whole musical planned out. Kevin Pryor: The Yearning. Opening number: ‘I Want to Hold His Hand but I’m Too Scared.’ A mashup of that Beatles song and an original number penned by you.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His expression softens slightly. “For real though, crushes are normal. Remember when I had one on Jessica Mannion sophomore year? I wrote her name on my binder over fifty times.”

“And she thought you were stalking her.”

“Okay, bad example.” He thinks for a moment. “Oh! What about when Adam had that thing for Kiara? He learned how to play guitar to impress her.”

“He played three chords and gave up.”

He rolls his eyes. “The point is, we all get crushes. It’s part of being human. Whoever this mystery person is…I don’t know, talk to them?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

Because the person I have a crush on is so far out of my league.

Because Jameson Hart exists in a different universe than theater kids who can’t play volleyball.

Because the last time someone of his status paid attention to someone like me, it was to stuff me in a locker.

But I can’t say any of that.

“It just isn’t,” I say quietly.

Connor finishes up my haircut, brushing the loose hair from my neck. In the mirror, I look younger with the buzz cut, more vulnerable. It’s almost as if all my thoughts are visible now that there’s less hair to hide them.

“Looking good,” Connor says, whipping off the cape. “That’ll be fifteen.”

I dig out my wallet while Robbie gets his final touches. His undercut looks decent—modern and styled in a way that Mr. Hudson never could have managed.

“Seriously, though,” Robbie says as Jake finishes up, “whoever it is, you should go for it. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I can think of about fifty worst-case scenarios without even trying, but I keep them to myself. We pay, leave generous tips that make both barbers smile, and head back to the van.

“Want me to drive?” I offer, watching Robbie eye the parallel parking situation with dread.

“God, yes.”

We switch places, and I manage to extract us from the space with only minor difficulty. As we drive home, Robbie keeps shooting me looks.

“It’s really not Matthew?” he asks one more time.

“It’s really not.”

Robbie shrugs. “For what it’s worth, if it was and you’re just not telling me, I’d be cool with that. I don’t know if Matthew swings that way, but even if he didn’t and you asked him out, I’m certain he’d take you on a date.”

I balk at Robbie. I can’t imagine Matthew ever doing that. Not because he’s a homophobe or anything—he’s far from it—but because nobody is that nice.

“You’re a cool guy,” Robbie says simply when he notices my shocked expression. “And you two have more in common than you think. He watches musicals with his mom.”

I shake my head in disbelief, trying to wrap my mind around Robbie’s confession. “Just because he watches musicals doesn’t mean we’re a match made in heaven. You watch musicals too. I don’t see you suddenly gaga for Rita,” I counter.

Robbie’s eyes go wide, almost comically so. “Rita terrifies me,” he admits with an exaggerated shiver. “But she’s a badass. I like badasses.”

He says it with such sincerity that I slam my foot on the brake instinctively, earning an irritated honk from the driver behind us. I snap my head toward Robbie, doing my best impression of a goldfish.

“What?” Robbie asks, feigning innocence with a smile that suggests he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Does Robbie have a thing for Rita? It’s not as though I’ve ever caught him ogling her or giving her affectionate glances whenever she’s been at our house. Has he been expertly hiding it, the same way that I’ve been with my unrequited feelings for Jameson Hart?

No way, Robbie’s not that stealthy.

“You’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?” I probe, hoping for clarity even as his smirk widens obnoxiously.

“Maybe I am,” he teases in a singsong voice that makes me want to throttle him—or at least pull over and demand answers right here and now. “Maybe I’m not.”

Another loud honk ricochets through the air, dragging my attention back to the road. The car behind us inches closer, the driver making his impatience known with another blare of the horn.

“Drive, Kevin,” Robbie says, tapping my leg. “Before this asshole behind us slams his car into the back of ours. I won’t cover for you with Dad on that one.”

Grudgingly, I ease off the brake and coax us forward along Main Street while keeping one eye on Robbie.

“This conversation isn’t over,” I tell him, frustrated and strangely giddy at the thought of my brother possibly having a crush on my best friend.