Page 86 of Wish You Were Her
“There’s no way to push. She’s gone. It’s done.”
“Jasper has her phone number; she’s working with her on her new apartment. She told me over breakfast. She’ll be your go-between. If Allegra wants to talk to you, she will. But table that for now. Areyouokay?”
Jonah was surprised by the question. It wasn’t one he heard very regularly. “I’m… fine.”
“Sure?”
“It’s not the best feeling. Knowing those pictures are out there. Middle-aged men have been giving me approving looks all morning and it makes me feel ill. Knowing what people are trying to say about Allegra.”
“Can I say one more thing?”
“Yes.”
“We could all see how much you two were feeling for each other. You were doing that weird dance thing. The kind two people do when they’re getting up to stuff in private, but don’t know how to label it. And, no offense, but judging by those photos, you two communicate perfectly well in one respect. So… just do the whole thing. Tell her. Use your words.”
“Well, that’s always been the problem. Fine with writing things down. Terrible with speaking.”
“So, write it down,” she said, smiling softly. “I feel very confident that she would like your writing.”
As they’d agreed, Natalie was seated in the backseat of the black Mercedes that had arrived to pick up Allegra. As she closed the door behind her, Allegra smiled sadly at her publicist. They sat side by side for a few minutes, waiting for the car to pull out of Lake Pristine. Allegra threw a look behind her to gaze out of the back window. No one was following them.
She sighed in relief and then looked over to Natalie. “Okay. Hit me with it.”
“It… could definitely be worse.”
“Bullet points?”
“Everyone your age is vehemently defending you. Millennials, too. In fact, a lot of millennial women are writing think pieces about the whole thing.BustleandCosmohave been so great, I can’t even tell you.”
“But?”
“The morning shows have been kind of brutal. Lots of red-faced, right-wing men. Lots of heat on you, none on the boys.”
“That’s good, I guess,” Allegra said quietly.
“It’s not good,” Natalie shot back, sounding indignant.“Allegra, that horrid weasel gave all three of your names to that editor. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”
“But Jonah does.”
She could feel Natalie staring at her profile, as she looked ahead and out of the windscreen of the car. Nothing but woodland road ahead, barely a goodbye to her father. Lake Pristine fading away in the rear-view mirror and all of the invisible bindings of fame starting to tighten around her once more.
“You really liked him, didn’t you?”
Allegra felt the bindings creep up to her throat, as if trying to stop the truth from slipping out. Her eyes itched and her chin trembled. “Yes.”
“So, why not just go with Plan A? Owning the relationship? Ask people to be understanding?”
“Because,” Allegra rounded on Natalie and, for the first time in their long, professional relationship, her voice was raised, “I want better for him. I want better for him than an embarrassing publicity stunt that he’s only going along with because he’s a good guy. I’ve had to fight for every fucking role in this industry, countless auditions and callbacks and meetings and readings and lunches. I gave up prom and school and sneaking out and having fun. Always auditioning. Always trying to impress, always fighting to be considered. I want him to choose. I don’t want to have to convince him. I don’t want to have to win him over. And hey, guess what, Nat? He’s autistic, like me. You’ve always said I’m so good at auditions. Ever wonder why? Autism. When every fucking social interaction feels like an audition, a performance, you get really good at it.”
She took a breath, anger melting away to reveal a deep sadness she had felt since leaving the house at the lake.
“Except him,” she breathed. “Never felt like a performancewith him. Suddenly… didn’t feel like there was a camera inside my head anymore. It felt easy. And hard. And natural.” She paused, wishing he was there. “Andreal.”
There was a whole minute of complete silence and stillness between them. Then Allegra felt a tentative hand on her arm. She glanced at Nat, shocked to see the other woman, who was always so clipped and proper, looking devastated.
“Okay,” the publicist said softly. “Hear you loud and clear. Your mother is at your apartment, we’re going to debrief there and then let you get some peace.”
Allegra nodded but couldn’t help glancing back at Lake Pristine, as it completely disappeared from view. It brought on a strange, emotional ache to leave the place that had so lived up to the imaginary version she had put together in her head. Now she was fleeing it. She was always fleeing—darting from a restaurant to a car, from a set to a hotel. From a meet-and-greet to a hastily scheduled doctor’s appointment, where the doctor told her that her lungs needed rest, and she could only laugh and give him a pitying look.
