Page 46 of Wish You Were Her
Jonah had just assumed that she hated him.
Now he wondered if Allegra was capable of hating anyone. She was always making things easier for other people. She handled social hiccups with a deftness he had never seen before. She remembered everyone. Her patience for Simon and his overtly inappropriate overtures seemed to be a deep well of generosity.
She was not only defying his expectations.
She was starting to seriously unnerve him.
Later that day, Jonah distracted himself with tasks.
He had been charged with putting up some new shelves in the small travel section of Brooks Books. It was a task he had been putting off for an age and now that Simon, Allegra and the rest of his old schoolmates in Lake Pristine were making merry together on the town bandstand, he felt like getting it done. In peace.
He assembled his screws, the shelves, the supports and the old toolbox that George kept in his messy office. The shop was closed and quiet, everyone in Lake Pristine enjoying the summer breeze and the evening lights that looked like pale blue fireflies.
He hummed along to his playlist as he worked.
“Great song! I love Tom Waits.”
He swore at the new arrival’s words and almost dropped his little pile of screws.
“Sorry,” Allegra said sheepishly. “World of your own.”
“Yes, well,” Jonah grunted, returning to his work. “Comes with the gig.”
He felt Allegra sit down next to him as he assembled the wood for the shelves. “Need any help?”
It had only been a few hours since her polite invitation to the film premiere. Jonah had busied himself with stock and pre-orders and festival planning, while Allegra and Simon had laughed with one another. He had tried to suppress the unnameable feelings brought up by their flirting. It was like a terrible, emotional, jealous acid reflux.
He shook the word “jealousy” out of his mind, knowing he had no right to it.
Yet, “Why aren’t you with Simon?” he asked. He couldn’t help it.
“We’re all having a nice time out by the bandstand, but I noticed you weren’t with us,” she replied.
He scoffed. So, they had all been having a jolly time and, after one too many jokes, they had finally deigned to notice that he was still working. He hated how disposable he felt.
“Promised George I would do this months ago,” he said gruffly.
“Well, do you want me to bring you something to eat? We have burgers.”
“No,” he said, a little more sharply than he had intended.
He heard, and somehow felt, her sigh. “Jonah. I’m trying here. I’ve really been trying. I know we had a rough start, you shouldn’t have said what you said when we met, and I should have forgiven you for it. But can’t we be friends?”
No, thought Jonah sadly. They couldn’t be friends becausehe still thought about her fingertips on his face. He questioned why it had been so easy to tell her about his neurodivergence. He thought about her more than he thought about anyone. He was petrified about falling into some strange kind of limerence, where he would never be free of her.
The only difference between such limerence and love was uncertainty. While true love was supposed to be mutual, a bridge between two people, limerence was standing on the bank of the river, wondering if you would survive the deep water and the strong currents.
Jonah didn’t know how the word “love” had crept into his tormented thoughts, just as “jealousy” had, but he shoved it away, too. He thought about his email friend. The one who actually wanted to see him. The one who didn’t make his blood roar in his ears or his heart rate accelerate. The one who was just as smart as Allegra and just as interesting.
“Sure,” was all he said when he realized Allegra was still waiting for a response. “We can be friends.”
Even he could hear how icy he sounded, but it made Allegra laugh. A few minutes later, she was offering him a burger wrapped in tinfoil. He stared at it, her outstretched hand an offer of a truce.
He took the burger.
They sat in silence for a moment, while he worked on the shelves and took breaks to chew.
“Why did you think I was going to be stuck-up?”
