Page 31 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart
“I know. She’s as gone for you as you are for her.” I nudge him with my foot. “It’s actually kind of gross how cute you two are.”
“Says the guy having a full-on text romance with Jameson Hart.”
“We’re just friends.”
“Sure, Jan.”
I grab a pillow to hit him with, but he dodges. “I’m happy for you, though. Really. Rita’s already a sister to me, so it’ll be cool when you go and make it official.”
Robbie bolts upright, eyes wide as saucers and mouth hanging open. “Official?”
“Yeah, you know. When you get married and she legally becomes?—”
“MARRIED?!” His voice cracks like we’re thirteen again. “Kevin, I’m only eighteen!”
“But you’re going to marry her someday, right?”
“Sure, someday! In the future! The distant future!” He hops over me and paces around our small room. “Oh God, marriage means a wedding. And a wedding means vows. What if I forget my vows? What if I pass out? What if?—”
“Robbie, breathe.”
“—her dad hates me? What if I can’t afford a ring? Do you know how much weddings cost? I don’t even have a job!”
I stare at my brother in amusement. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him spiral. It’s surprisingly cute…and also hilarious. “You’re not getting married tomorrow!”
“But someday! Oh, God. Oh, God. ” He’s at my door now, hand on the knob. “I need to go. I need to think. I need to—” He yanks the door open and sprints down the hall.
“Where are you going?” I call after him.
“To relieve some stress!” The bathroom door slams.
I sit there for a moment, blinking at my empty doorway. Then I grab my phone.
Me
My brother is having a meltdown about hypothetically marrying Rita in the very distant future. How’s your afternoon going?
Jameson responds immediately.
Jameson
Boring compared to yours. Want to hear about the documentary I’m watching about jellyfish?
Me
Obviously, yes.
And just like that, we’re back to our easy rhythm. Adam’s warnings fade into mere whispers as Jameson tells me about immortal jellyfish and sends me screenshots of the most ridiculous-looking species.
Maybe this is just friendship.
Maybe I’m reading too much into his messages, choice of emoji, all of the late-night conversations.
But sitting here in my room with my phone warm in my hands and that stupid smile back on my face, I can’t bring myself to care.
Jameson
Okay, but seriously, this one resembles an alien disco ball.
[image attached]
Nature is WILD!
Me
That’s without a doubt an alien. You can’t convince me otherwise.
Jameson
Then I won’t
The heart emoji makes my own heart do backflips. We keep texting for the rest of the day, the conversation flowing from sea creatures to our favorite movies to what we’re having for dinner.
Each message reveals something new. He alphabetizes his bookshelf, but his room is otherwise a disaster. He can’t sleep without some kind of white noise. He’s terrified of butterflies after one flew into his mouth when he was six.
I share random facts of my own too. I still sleep with a stuffed elephant named Mr. Peanuts when I’m home alone. I practice acceptance speeches in the shower for awards I’ll never win. I can’t eat salads because of their texture, but I love wraps.
Jameson
You’re wonderfully weird, you know that?
Me
Says the guy who’s afraid of butterflies.
Jameson
They’re unpredictable! All that fluttering around with no clear flight path!
Me
You catch footballs while 250-pound guys try to tackle you, but butterflies are where you draw the line?
Jameson
Yes. At least defensive ends follow predictable patterns. Butterflies are chaos agents.
I’m laughing hard enough for tears to fill my eyes that I almost miss Adam walking past my room again. He pauses, sees me on my phone, and shakes his head slightly before continuing down the hall.
I stick out my tongue at his retreating form. Let him disapprove. Robbie’s right—this is something good. Something real. And I’m not going to let my brother’s overprotective worrying ruin it. Besides, he still hasn’t told Robbie about Stanford. He shouldn’t be throwing stones.
Jameson
If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?
Me
Easy. Mac and cheese. But the fancy kind with multiple cheeses and breadcrumbs on top.
Jameson
Solid choice. Mine would be tacos. Endless variety potential.
Me
Smart. You could have dessert tacos, breakfast tacos…
Jameson
Exactly! You get it.
You know, we should go to that taco truck by the beach sometime. They have the best tacos in town.
My heart comes to a screeching halt. Is he asking me out?
Or is this one of those casual suggestions?
There’s no rulebook for these kinds of things.
And for someone like me, who is socially awkward and entirely inept at all things not musical theater, there really should be. What do I say? What do I do?
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and think of what Rita would do. If she were me, and Jameson were Robbie, what would her response be?
Opening my eyes, I watch my thumbs fly over the screen in an out-of-body experience that leaves me lightheaded.
Me
That sounds like a good time. Can’t believe I didn’t think of it first. I’m down if you are.
Jameson
Cool! How does this weekend sound? Are you free?
Me
I’m free.
And there I go again. Taking risks, consequences be damned.