Page 78 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart

“I see how people stare at Adam and Robbie,” I continue. “They’re these perfect athletic gods, who everyone wants to be or be with. And then there’s me, trailing behind them as their shadow. I’m always the afterthought. Always the ‘oh, and Kevin’s here too.’”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” I pull my hand away and wrap my arms around myself. “Do you know what it’s like to want something so badly it hurts? To dream about someone seeing you and choosing you because they want to?”

My voice breaks.

“I want to know what it is to be someone’s first choice. To be the person someone thinks about when they wake up. To be someone precious, someone worth protecting.” I gesture at the field where Jameson is laughing with Tyler. “I want someone to light up when I walk into a room. To miss me when I’m gone. To want to holdmyhand.”

Rita doesn’t say anything, just lets me spill all the longing I’ve been carrying around like stones in my pockets.

“And the stupid thing is, at the beach, I thought maybe…” I trail off, watching Jameson do lunges. “But that’s me beingdelusional, right? Guys like him fall for other athletes or college guys with cars and apartments, not theater kids who still share a room with their brother.”

Rita grabs my face with both hands, forcing my eyes on her. “You listen to me, Kevin Pryor. You arenotan afterthought. You arenota shadow. You are brilliant, quick-witted, and kind, and any guy would be lucky to have you.”

“Then why doesn’t anyone want me?” The question comes out small and broken.

“Maybe someone does.” She glances meaningfully at the field. “Maybe someone’s been trying to tell you, but keeps getting interrupted by teammates with terrible timing.”

I follow her gaze to where Jameson and the rest of the team are now on a water break. His eyes flick up to where Rita and I are. He raises his hand in a small wave, the same one he gave me that day at the bookstore, and my traitorous heart skips.

“Wave back, you disaster,” Rita hisses.

I do as she commands, and Jameson grins before turning back to his teammates.

“See?” Rita picks up her parasol again, twirling it smugly. “That boy’s got it bad.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know he texts you constantly. I know he took you on a beach date, even if you won’t let yourself call it that. I know he watches you when he thinks no one’s looking.” She stands, offering me her hand. “Come on. Let’s get snow cones. Sitting here, watching him, isn’t going to give you the answers you seek.”

“But flavored ice will?”

“Yes. It’s the answer to everything.”

I let her pull me up and take one last glance at the field. Jameson’s mid-catch, suspended in the air.

“I think you’re going to get what you want,” Rita says as we descend the bleachers. “Love, acceptance, someone who chooses you first every time.”

“Yeah?”

She nods. “And when you do, I’m taking full credit.”

The snow conestand is a tiny yellow shack with a hand-painted sign. The line snakes past the lifeguard station. The boardwalk is crowded with families in matching T-shirts and tourists with sunburns in various shades of defeat. The air smells of sugar, saltwater, and fried dough. Somewhere nearby, a band is covering “It Will Rain” by Bruno Mars, off-key and too loud, but no one minds.

Rita and I claim our place in line. She spins her parasol absently while scanning the menu for the most aggressively artificial flavor possible.

“So,” I say, watching the kid at the front order every flavor combined, “Robbie told me something interesting.”

Rita’s parasol stops mid-spin. “Oh?”

“He’s planning to ask you out after football camp ends.”

The parasol clatters to the ground. Rita doesn’t even notice. Her face goes through about seventeen different expressions before settling on something between joy and terror.

“He said that? He actually said those words?” Her voice climbs an octave with each syllable.

“Well, his exact words were more along the lines of wanting to do it right. Take you somewhere nice when he can give youhis full attention.” I pick up the parasol and hand it back to her. “He’s been thinking about it for a while, I guess.”