Page 44 of Wish You Were Her
“Yes!”
“The Arthouse? The church? Main Street?”
“Yes, Jonah.”
“Then you’ve seen all of Lake Pristine.”
He expected Allegra to roll her eyes at him but she gave him a smirk and then headed for the exit.
“Thanks, Jonah. But I’m off to see how the festival site is coming along.”
Jonah watched the cogs turn in Simon’s head and, for reasons he didn’t fully want to examine, he said, “I’ll come with you. I need to check in with the board about volunteers.”
Allegra didn’t object.
“I’ll just stay here all by myself then!” Simon called after them.
The whole town was baking beneath the sun, which to Jonah felt oppressive and too intense. The early heatwave meant that townsfolk were walking around with sunburns. The airconditioning had broken in the post office, which had resulted in two mailmen fighting over a parking space. Everyone was either dashing to the water, pouring into the venues that served ice or growing crabby from the scorching heat.
Jonah glanced at Allegra. She had put on her oversized sunglasses. In her white lace dress and gold locket, she looked every bit the movie star.
“Are you wearing SPF?”
“Huh?” he said, dragging his gaze from her hands and waist and hair to her face. “Sorry.”
“Are you wearing sunscreen? It’s way too hot today. The sun’s bearing down.”
“No.”
She opened the canvas tote bag that was neatly hanging from her elbow and took out a small white bottle of designer SPF. She opened it and put some on the back of her hand before tapping the cream with her fingertips.
“May I?”
He realized that she was asking his permission to protect him from the sun. “Uh-huh.”
She gently massaged the small dollops of white cream into his face and jawline. He felt every molecule react to the touch. He noticed that she smelled of lemons.
His family and teachers had always lovingly teased him about his more emotional side. While he was prone to stoicism and terse responses, his demeanor had been occasionally shattered by the odd pretty face and the adults around him had always found it extremely amusing.
“Thanks,” was all he managed to say to Allegra. He avoided eye contact and held his breath, turning himself to hardened stone in the hope that it would conceal all of his blatant awareness of her.
“ALLEGRA BROOKS!”
A voice shattered the moment, and Jonah watched Allegra’s face as she looked toward the intrusive sound.
Saffron, who worked in the newly opened Lake Pristine salon, was sprinting toward them with her phone already primed for taking a picture.
“You’re the talk of the whole town,” she gushed, on reaching them. “I didn’t believe my sister when she said you were here for the summer.”
“Hello,” Allegra said, in a serene and unflustered tone that did not for a moment convey the strangeness of this stranger’s presumed intimacy and familiarity. “Nice to meet you.”
It was a jarring scene for Jonah to watch. Saffron had greeted Allegra like they were old friends, or at least acquaintances. Allegra was warm and polite, but Jonah was waiting for her to address the truth of the situation.
Saffron did not know Allegra.
Social rules mattered to Jonah, as an autistic. Not because they made sense or felt natural to him, but because he had been punished so severely for breaking them, as a younger neurodivergent person.
He watched Allegra hold herself like a canvas, awaiting the colorful paint of another person’s expectations and wants.
