Page 66 of Wish You Were Her
He didn’t regret a moment of it. The sting of both his pen-pal and Allegra’s rejection was far more bearable than the dull pain of wondering “what if?”
Usually, he lived in the postcode of What If. It was a familiar, well-tended cul-de-sac with high walls and few visitors. The way out was always in view but the courage to walk out was far more elusive.
He suddenly remembered the picture of Allegra Brooks on the computer screen, the day he heard she was coming to Lake Pristine. He had seen the most beautiful girl in the world on that screen, and his instincts, years of trying to mask and hide and be invisible, had forced him to push down those feelings. The many allistic voices that had told him he was made incorrectly had merged to become a voice in his own head.
Don’t even look at that girl, she’ll want nothing to do with you. She won’t even want to breathe the same air as you.
He wasn’t going to sabotage his own happiness anymore. He had entered into romantic entanglements before, as a boy. He was going to approach Allegra as a man.
“Simon,” he said to his friend, as they both stood by the catering table of the green room. “I really like Allegra.”
He felt his friend go cold. There was a long silence between the two of them, while the room bustled and throbbed with noise and anticipation.
When Simon did eventually speak, it was with a voice Jonah had never heard his old friend use before. “You could have fooled me. The two of you are always at each other’s throats.”
“I know,” Jonah allowed. “That was all my fault. I made a shitty first impression and then I doubled down because of pride.”
“You’ve been distracted a lot lately. I knew it was down to something.”
“I wasn’t trying to keep secrets from you.”
“It’s not that,” Simon said flatly, cracking his neck and shrugging with feigned indifference. “You’ve never been big on talking about feelings.”
“I know.”
“You were just on your phone a lot. I knew it was someone.Just didn’t think it was Allegra, because you’re pretty rude to her.”
“There was someone else, and then they—then there wasn’t. It’s complicated.”
“Why are you telling me?” Simon said, his tone still frosty and curt. “Are you asking my permission?”
Jonah was taken aback. “No. Of course not.”
“Because I’m not going to stop trying to get with her just because you want to start, Jonah. That’s not how these things work.”
It was happening. As it so often happened with allistic friends. Simon was a best friend to Jonah, but only when he was biddable. Only when he was in a supporting role, docile in his friendship and playing in the background. When Jonah played the neurotypical game, he was allowed to stay at the table. But neurotypicals could turn. They could move the goalposts and change the rules whenever it pleased them. Jonah’s invitation could be rescinded at any time.
He was starting to wonder if friendship was always supposed to feel like this, if it was normal to walk on eggshells around a friend. If it was normal to feel tolerated instead of loved.
“Let’s be clear,” Jonah said. “I’m not trying to ‘get with her.’ I’m falling in love with her.”
Simon visibly cringed at Jonah’s infamous formality. “Oh, God.”
“Can you be a friend to me about this?” Jonah asked quietly. “A real friend?”
Simon had protected Jonah from football players who wanted to shove him in school corridors when they were twelve, but in later years, he had repeatedly gone after the girls Jonah liked. Jonah had always written it up to unfortunatetiming, but he was no longer convinced about any of it. Maybe other people had friendships that didn’t feel like this. Maybe it didn’t always have to be this way for him.
Something close to worry flashed across Simon’s face. “Jonah, she’s a really nice girl. She’s been a pal all summer and a big help at the shop, especially since you and George have been so weird with each other. Don’t scare her off. Don’t do anything to ruin this summer for her.”
Jonah flinched. “Why would you think—”
“She’s a good girl. Even Skye has given up trying to pick fights with her. She’s a great person. She doesn’t deserve to be messed about by you.”
Jonah felt a stab of jealousy and narrowed his eyes. “As opposed to whatever it isyou’vebeen trying to do all summer?”
“I say, let the best man win,” Simon finally said.
Jonah regarded him for a long while and then spoke, in a cold, hardened tone of his own before walking away. “She’s not something to win, Simon.”
