Page 30 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart

the telephone hour

M y phone buzzes for the seventeenth time in the last hour, and I can’t stop the ridiculous grin that spreads across my face.

Jameson

Okay, but hear me out! Bacon on pizza is genius. Gives it a nice crunch.

Me

That’s it. This friendship is over. I can’t associate with someone who thinks breakfast food belongs on pizza.

Jameson

I thought we had something special, Kevin

My heart has been going haywire for the past two weeks. Ever since the night of the drive-in, the night we held hands and dove into the ocean, Jameson and I have been texting nonstop.

Morning messages about what we’re having for breakfast.

Afternoon debates over the best superhero (him: Spider-Man, me: Black Widow) and whether hot dogs are sandwiches (they’re not, and I will die on this hill).

Late-night conversations that drift from silly to serious and back again.

Me

We do. But bacon pizza might be a deal-breaker.

Jameson

What if I promise to always order half without bacon?

Me

I’m listening…

“Who are you texting?” Adam’s voice cuts through my bubble of bliss. He’s standing in my doorway, fresh from his morning run, sweat making his shirt stick to his chest.

“A friend.” I try to sound relaxed, but my voice comes out weird and high.

Adam’s eyes narrow. He steps fully into my room and closes the door behind him. “Kevin, can we talk?”

The serious big-brother tone makes my stomach drop. “About what?”

“About you and Hart.” He sits on the edge of my bed, and I scoot back against my headboard to give him room. “I think it’s great that you guys are becoming friends. But?—”

“But what?”

Adam runs a hand through his damp hair. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. Hart’s an incredibly nice guy. He’s friendly with everyone. It’s who he is.”

Heat creeps up my neck. “I know that.”

“Do you?” His voice is gentle but firm. “Because you’ve been glued to your phone for two weeks. Every time it buzzes, you light up like the Fourth of July.”

“So?”

“So…maybe you’re reading more into this than what’s actually there.” Adam shifts uncomfortably. “Hart has a life, Kevin. School starts next month. Football too. Like Robbie and me, he has college applications, recruiting visits. He’s probably just being polite because you’re my brother.”

Each word is a small punch to the gut. “He’s not ‘just being polite.’” I use air quotes for emphasis.

“How do you know?”

“Because we talk about real things!” The words are spat out before I can stop them. “He told me about how his dad walked out when he was twelve. I told him about my anxiety during auditions. We send each other stupid memes at two in the morning. That’s not politeness, Adam. That’s friendship.”

My phone buzzes again. We both look at it.

“Every five minutes?” Adam asks. “Really?”

“It’s not every five minutes.” It’s more like every ten, but I don’t say that.

“Kevin.” Adam’s voice goes even softer, which somehow makes everything worse. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re my little brother. It’s my job to protect you.”

“From what? From having friends?”

“From getting too attached to someone who might not feel the same way.”

The words hang between us, unspoken truths crackling in the air. Adam knows about my crush. Of course, he knows. He’s probably always known, even when I didn’t have words for it myself.

“It’s not like that,” I lie.

“Okay.” He clearly doesn’t believe me. “At least ease up a little? Give him some space? You don’t want to come across as clingy.”

I nod, and he leaves. I stare at my phone. Three new messages from Jameson, continuing our pizza debate. My fingers hover over the keyboard, but Adam’s words echo in my head. Clingy. Too attached. Just being polite.

I set the phone aside without responding.

Twenty minutes later, Robbie bursts into my room like a golden retriever wanting treats.

“Dude!” He launches himself onto my bed, making the whole frame shake. “Adam told me that you and Hart are texting buddies now? That’s so cool!”

“It’s not a big deal.” I pull my knees up to my chest.

“Not a big deal? Kevin, Hart is texting you! The same guy who caught the winning touchdown in the state semifinals!” Robbie’s enthusiasm is infectious and cuts through my Adam-induced funk. “What do you guys talk about?”

“Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” He grabs my phone before I can stop him. “Can I see?”

“Robbie, no?—”

But he’s already scrolling through our messages, his eyes getting wider with each exchange. He bats my hand away as if it’s an incessant fly. “Oh my God, you guys text constantly . This is…this is more than Rita and I text, and I’m basically in love with her.”

I freeze, my hand hovering in the air. “You’re what now?”

He waves me off, still reading. “Kevin, he sent you a selfie with his cat before the sun was even up. Do you know what this means?”

“That he has a cat?”

“No, dummy.” Robbie sets my phone down and looks at me seriously. “It means he was thinking about you first thing in the morning. Guys don’t send random cat selfies to people that they don’t care about.”

“Adam thinks he’s being nice because I’m your brother.”

Robbie snorts. “Adam’s an idiot. I mean, I love him, but he’s being an idiot.” He picks my phone up again and scrolls some more. “Holy crap, you guys discussed The Great British Bake Off for…forty minutes?! That’s commitment.”

I nervously fiddle with the edge of my blanket. “You don’t think I’m being clingy?”

“Clingy?” Robbie gapes at me, genuinely confused. “Kev, he’s texting you as much as you’re texting him. That’s not clingy, that’s mutual interest.”

My phone buzzes. Another message from Jameson. I grab the phone out of Robbie’s hand.

Jameson

Did I scare you off with my pizza opinions? I promise I have other redeeming qualities. Like I can juggle. Sort of. Two balls max, but still.

A minute later…

Jameson

Oh, gosh. Why does that sound dirty? I meant juggling with actual balls. Ping-pong balls. Tennis balls.

Robbie reads the text upside down and cackles. “Oh, he’s got it bad.”

“Shut up.”

“Text him back! Don’t leave him hanging after that accidental innuendo. He’s probably dying of embarrassment.”

Me

Two balls are impressive. I can barely handle one.

Okay, that also sounded dirty. Maybe we should stop talking about balls.

Robbie high-fives me. “Perfect. See? You guys have ball- er chemistry. Don’t let Adam’s protective big brother act mess with your head.”

“You don’t do the protective big brother thing?”

“Nah.” Robbie stretches out beside me, stealing half my pillow. “I figure you’re smart enough to handle yourself. Plus, Hart’s a good guy. If he’s interested in you—which he clearly is—then he’s got excellent taste.”

Jameson

Agreed. New topic. Did you know octopuses have three hearts?

Me

Random, but I love it. Did you know they’re also venomous?

Jameson

WHAT?! Everything I know is a lie.

I’m smiling again, that stupid, unstoppable smile that’s becoming my default expression.

“See?” Robbie pokes my cheek. “That’s the face of someone in the middle of something good. Adam means well, but he doesn’t get it. This?” He gestures at my phone. “This is exactly what you deserve.”

“Thanks, Robbie.”

He kisses me on the cheek—something he always used to do when we were little and I was crying. It always cheered me up. I didn’t realize I needed cheering up until now.

“I think it’s awesome that you and Hart are friends,” he says. “Or whatever you are. Or whatever you’re becoming.”

I clear my throat, trying to shift gears. “Speaking of whatever you’re becoming with someone…you said you’re ‘basically in love’ with Rita.”

Robbie coughs. The tips of his ears turn pink. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“But you did.” I set my phone aside, giving him my undivided attention. “What’s the deal? Are you going to ask her out?”

Robbie sits up, running both hands through his hair until it sticks up in a hundred different directions.

He scowls when I smooth it out for him. “I want to, but football camp doesn’t end for another two weeks.

I have zero time for her right now.” He appears genuinely torn.

“I don’t want to ask her out and then be unavailable.

That’s a terrible way to start something. ”

I think about Rita floating in the pool, talking about how she’d never risk our friendship for a boy. “She has some worries too, you know.”

Robbie’s head snaps toward me. “She does? What kind of worries?”

“She’s scared that if you guys dated and it went badly, it would make things weird. That she’d lose me as a friend because I’d have to choose sides or something. I think she’d rather pine forever than risk our friendship.”

“That’s…” Robbie’s face goes through about twelve different emotions.

“…ridiculous. And also sweet. But mostly ridiculous.” He grabs my shoulders and stares at me with an intensity usually reserved for fourth-quarter plays.

“Kevin, listen to me. If Rita and I date—I mean, when we date—nothing will change between you two. Ever.”

“Robbie—”

“No, I’m serious. She’s your best friend.

I’m your brother. Those are two separate relationships that have nothing to do with each other.

” His grip tightens slightly. “And if we ever broke up, I would never, ever make you choose. Neither would she. We both love you too much for that petty nonsense.”

My chest becomes warm and tight all at once. “You mean that?”

“Of course, I mean it. You think I’d let some hypothetical future breakup cost you your best friend? What kind of brother would that make me?”

“A normal one, probably.”

He shoves me gently. “We’re the Pryor boys. We don’t do normal.”

“True.” I grin at him. “So, you’re going to ask her out?”

He nods. “After camp. I want to do it right, though, you know? Take her somewhere nice, give her my full attention. She deserves that.” He flops back on my bed. “Two more weeks. Then I’m going for it.”

“She’s going to say yes.”

“You think?”