Page 49 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart

seasons of love

T he shower water runs cold because I can’t stop staring at my naked wrist.

I didn’t take a shower last night, but that still hasn’t stopped me from checking the drain three times, running my fingers along the tile grooves, and peering behind the shampoo bottles as if the bracelet might be playing hide and seek.

Nothing. Just me, my pruned fingers, and the growing certainty that I’ve lost the most perfect gift anyone’s ever given me.

The water pressure sputters as our ancient pipes protest the length of my pity shower.

I turn off the tap and step out onto the bath mat, water pooling around my feet.

My reflection in the foggy mirror is as miserable as I me.

Red-rimmed eyes, hair plastered to my skull, and that telltale blotchy face that comes from crying in the shower and pretending it’s from the water.

I reach for my towel on the hook, already mentally preparing for another day of wallowing, when something catches my eye.

There, on the bathroom counter, right next to my toothbrush, sits the bracelet.

My bracelet. The comedy and tragedy masks shimmer under the harsh bathroom lights, tiny and perfect and—wait. I know for a fact they weren’t there when I got in the shower twenty minutes ago.

“What the—” I lunge for it, forgetting about everything except the impossible reality that it’s here. “Adam!”

I burst out of the bathroom and sprint down the hall, my brain too full of questions to register the cool air on my skin. I shove open Adam’s door without knocking.

“Adam, you found it! How did you?—”

“JESUS CHRIST, KEVIN!”

Adam’s sitting at his desk, and the second he sees me, he slaps both hands over his eyes hard enough to send his eyeballs shooting out of the back of his head.

The force of the slap sends his chair tipping backward.

He catches himself on the edge of his desk with his bare foot while keeping his eyes firmly covered.

“WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!” he bellows.

“Huh?” I glance down at myself and let out a strangled yelp. In my excitement about the bracelet, I forgot a rather crucial step: covering myself up.

“I—the bracelet—I forgot—” I dart behind his door, using it as a makeshift shield. Only my head and one arm stick out, the bracelet dangling from my fist. “You found it!”

“I can’t see anything!” Adam’s still covering his eyes, his face the color of a fire truck. “Are you dressed? Please tell me you’re dressed now.”

“I’m behind the door!”

“That’s not dressed! That’s hidden!” He spreads his fingers slightly, sees I’m still there, and snaps them shut again. “Kevin, what the hell?”

“The bracelet was on the bathroom counter! Did you find it? Did you go back to the creek?” The words tumble out in a rush. “I thought it was gone forever, but it was sitting there like magic, and?—”

“I’ve been in my room this whole time!” Adam’s voice cracks. “I haven’t left! And even if I had, I wouldn’t have snuck into the bathroom while you were showering! What kind of weirdo do you think I am?”

“But then how?—”

“ Clothes , Kevin! Clothes first, mystery solving second!”

Right. Priorities.

I duck back into the hallway, clutching the bracelet in one hand while using the other to preserve whatever dignity I have left. The bathroom door is still open, steam billowing out, and I grab the towel I should have wrapped around me.

“Okay, I’m decent!” I call out, returning to Adam’s room.

“Define decent.”

“I have a towel on!”

“That’s barely decent.” He lowers his hands, though he’s carefully looking at me as though I might lose the towel at any moment. “Dude, we need to establish some boundaries if you’re going to keep living with me in my room. I’ve seen things tonight that can’t be unseen.”

“Drama queen. You have the same thing dangling between your legs.” I hold up the bracelet. “Focus on this, not on your trauma.”

Adam takes the bracelet from me, examining it under his desk lamp. His expression shifts from one of residual horror to one of curiosity. “It’s wet. And muddy.” His forehead creases as he studies it closer. “This is mud. I’d recognize that smell anywhere.”

We look at each other, the same thought hitting us simultaneously.

“Someone went back to the lake,” I whisper.

“In the middle of the night,” Adam adds. “Searched for it in the dark, found it somehow, and put it in the bathroom while you were showering.”

“But you said you didn’t.”

“I didn’t.” Adam sets the bracelet down carefully on his desk. “And Dad went to bed before we got home, so he has no idea you even have this. Which means…”

The silence stretches between us. Down the hall, I hear the faint sound of Robbie’s music playing.

“Robbie,” I breathe.

“Robbie,” Adam confirms.

My chest does something complicated—part squeeze, part flutter. Robbie, who hasn’t spoken to me in days. Robbie, who called me self-centered and locked me out of our room. Robbie, who apparently spent his night diving in dark water to find my bracelet.

“But why wouldn’t he just give it to me?” I ask.

Adam shrugs. “You know Robbie. He’s proud. Stubborn. Probably doesn’t know how to bridge the gap after everything he said.”

“So he does this instead?” I stare at the bracelet, throat tight. “Goes to Archer’s Creek in the middle of the night like some kind of jewelry-hunting ninja?”

“Sounds like him.” Adam’s voice is soft. “Grand gestures instead of actual words.”

Adam picks up the bracelet and gestures for me to hold out my arm. He fastens it around my wrist where it belongs. The metal is cool against my skin, but it warms quickly. “What do I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do I thank him? Do I pretend I don’t know?”

“Let him come to you when he’s ready.”

I nod, touching the little masks on the bracelet. They’re grimy with mud, like Adam said, but they’re here. They’re mine again.

“And Kevin?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you have a eureka moment?” Adam’s trying not to smile. “Maybe grab some pants first. I’m going to need therapy after tonight.”

“You’re such a baby.” But I’m smiling too.

After I get dressed, I head out of Adam’s room, passing mine and Robbie’s door to get to the stairs. I pause.

The music is still playing—something angry and bass-heavy. I picture him in there, at his desk, pretending to do the last bit of his summer reading while stressing over whatever internal war he’s fighting.

I press my palm against the door, only for a second. A silent thank you he’ll never know about. Then I head downstairs to eat breakfast before heading to the beach to spend Labor Day with Jameson and all of our friends.

The beach is crowded when we arrive. Everyone’s trying to squeeze in one last day of summer. I climb out of the minivan, and the salt air hits me immediately. It’s one of those perfect days where the sun still has a bite, but the breeze has chilled, and the leaves are changing colors.

“Dibs on the spot by the lifeguard stand!” Tyler shouts, grabbing the coolers from the trunk.

Matthew helps him set up while I adjust my new swim trunks, which I spent forty minutes choosing this morning—though I’ll deny it if ever asked. They’re navy with small octopuses on them, reminding me of my conversation with Jameson once upon a time.

“Hey.” Jameson appears at my elbow, and my heart does its usual acrobatics.

He’s wearing board shorts and a neon pink tank top. The outfit shows off his toned and tanned arms and legs, and I have to remind myself that staring is rude.

“Hey, yourself.” I smile up at him, still getting used to the fact that I can do that now. Smile at my boyfriend without worrying about being too obvious.

Robbie shows up a little while later. He glances at me and Jameson lying on our bellies, suntanning. Our eyes meet for half a second before sliding away. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this cold shoulder thing, but I know that I don’t have to allow it to hurt me any more than it already has.

Ethan is on Jameson’s other side, sketching in his notebook.

“What’s today’s masterpiece?” I ask, peering over my boyfriend’s well-defined back.

“The beach.” He tilts the notebook so I can see his artwork better.

It’s amazing, museum-tier work. He’s captured the curve of the shoreline and the way the dunes roll into each other.

The spot where the sky meets the ocean. The seagulls in the air and the sailboats in the water.

There’s even a crab getting splashed by a wave.

“That’s amazing, Ethan.”

He flushes slightly. “It’s okay. I’m still working on perspective.”

Jameson cracks one eye open and checks the drawing out. “Looks perfect to me,” Jameson says, ruffling his brother’s hair. Ethan ducks away, smiling.

We settle into that lazy beach rhythm—applying sunscreen, debating whether the water’s too cold to take a dip in, eating snacks we brought, and building sandcastles. I’m sure our group looks like actors in a commercial for summertime. But we’re not acting, we’re in love with this season.

“Alright, let’s pick volleyball teams!” Tyler announces once enough “relaxation time” has passed. “I call captain.”

“I call the other captain,” Matthew says immediately.

It looks like we’re going to do the whole schoolyard pick thing, and I’m prepared to be chosen last. But Jameson grabs my hand and pulls me over before they can call out the first name. “Package deal. If you want me, you get Kevin too.”

“That’s not how this works,” Tyler says.

“That’s exactly how this works.”

“Fine.” Tyler sighs dramatically. “But if we lose, I’m blaming your boyfriend.”

My stomach flutters at the casual use of the word by someone other than Jameson or Adam. I’m being accepted for who I am. It’s a wonderful feeling.

The teams end up being me, Jameson, Tyler, and some poor fella named Cameron, versus Matthew, Robbie, Adam, and a college guy named Brett. Ethan volunteers to keep score, which mostly means he’ll watch for a while before getting distracted by his sketching.

“I wish Rita were here,” I say quietly to Jameson.