Page 51 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart

With a slight nod, Jameson readjusts, and the octopus rises in the claw’s grip. We all hold our breath as it sways toward the chute.

It drops perfectly.

“No way,” Robbie says, mouth agape.

Jameson retrieves the octopus and hands it over to me. “It’s all about how you move the claw. You need to be gentle; if you go too fast, it makes the whole thing sway.”

“You’ve put way too much thought into this,” Robbie says, but there’s no bite to it.

“My cousin and I spent an entire summer perfecting our technique. Won so many stuffed animals, my aunt made us donate them.”

An awkward silence envelopes us. I can sense Robbie wanting to say something, but Tyler’s voice cuts through the arcade noise. “Fireworks in ten minutes!”

We head back to the beach and spread the blankets and towels further out, creating a patchwork viewing area. I end up between Jameson and Robbie, with Adam on Robbie’s other side. Everyone sits in silence as the sun sets and the stars come out.

“Remember when we thought senior year would never come?” Adam says as more people arrive on the beach for the fireworks extravaganza. “It felt like this mythical thing that happened to other people, and now it’s here.”

“All I want is to survive the first half,” I say, getting cut off as an announcer tells us the show will start in five minutes.

“You will,” Jameson says at the same time as Robbie. They look at each other, then at me, and it feels like maybe things could be normal again.

“Sparklers! Get your sparklers!” A college-aged guy with a mesh bag slung over his shoulder weaves through the crowd. “Free sparklers, courtesy of the Arcadia Beach Committee!”

“Oh, hell yes,” Tyler says, practically tackling the guy. “Give me ten. No, twenty!”

“One per person,” the guy says, grinning as he hands them out.

I take mine carefully, the metal wire cold against my fingers. Matthew produces a lighter from somewhere and starts helping people light theirs. The sparklers come to life one by one, creating tiny galaxies of light across the beach.

Mine catches, and I watch the sparks cascade down, each one dying before it hits the sand.

The light is warm on my face and almost too bright to look directly at.

Without thinking, I lift it higher, letting it block my view of everyone else.

Behind this curtain of sparks, I can pretend life is simple.

That Robbie isn’t sitting two feet away, his anger slowly dissipating.

That Adam isn’t leaving us in a year. That this isn’t our last Labor Day before our lives change forever.

“Hey.” Jameson’s voice is soft beside me. His hand finds my free one. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Hide.” He gently pushes my sparkler hand down. “I want to see your face.” His thumb brushes across my knuckles. “I love seeing you happy and present and not worrying about anything else.”

The sparkler trembles in my hand, sending little bursts of light dancing across his face. “I’m not that interesting to look at.”

“You’re wrong.” He shifts closer, our shoulders touching. “You have no idea how your whole face transforms when you’re happy. Your eyes shine, and you get this tiny crease on your left cheek that only shows up when you’re truly smiling, like when you’re on stage, performing your heart out.”

“You notice all that?”

“I told you; I notice everything about you.” He reaches up and adjusts how I’m holding the sparkler so it frames both our faces in its glow. “There. Now I can see you properly. This is what I want, Kevin—you, illuminated. Always.”

My throat tightens, ready to squeeze out something dangerously close to those three words I’m not prepared to say yet. The sparkler continues its cascade of sparks, and I realize I’m doing that real smile he mentioned. The one that makes my whole face ache because it’s so big.

“See?” Jameson says. “That’s the one. That’s my favorite.”

I stare at my boyfriend in awe. He’s beautiful in a way I hadn’t realized before. Before, he was the boy with the golden hair, but now, he’s the young man with a heart that beats for me.

The show kicks into high gear as the first firework erupts—a blinding white chrysanthemum that makes the entire crowd flinch back in unison.

The sound rattles through my chest and echoes off the water.

Another round of fireworks follows, stepping all over each other and painting the sky with impossible streaks of colors.

People all up and down the beach are cheering, some setting off their own tiny contraband displays.

My attention shifts as the flashes illuminate my family and friends.

Adam is resting his chin on his knees, looking older than I ever remember.

Robbie is leaning back, legs outstretched, and his toes buried in the sand.

Matthew and Tyler are having a sword fight with their sparklers, while Ethan watches on in amusement.

So much has changed since June. When summer began, I honestly believed I’d float through it the way I always float through things—watching from the sidelines, crafting grand musical numbers in my head, pretending my life is better than it is.

I never would have guessed that I’d be here at the finish line, surrounded by friends and brothers and a boyfriend named Jameson Hart, who, as it turns out, noticed me all along.