Page 110 of Give Me a Shot

“ ’Kay, fine.” Jess sighed, already a little queasy from her distaste of doctor’s offices.

“Lastly—on this game plan,” Alice said. “Jess is going to get in touch with Mo. She’s going to—”

Jess sat up quickly.

“Ladies, I can’t. I told you. It’s going to be too much. My stuff is going to be too hurtful to him.”

“Yes, you did say that,” Stephanie said. “But it’s an excuse.”

“It’s also kind of arrogant,” Alice said.

Shocked, Jess glared at Alice wide-eyed. She shrugged.

“Men have been telling women what they can and cannot handle for centuries,” Alice said. “Any time a man has done that to you, it’s gone over really well, Ms. Archery Champion.”

Jess narrowed her eyes and cleared her throat.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” she said. “But…” She pressed her lips together. She hadn’t told them the full truth about Mo’s sensitivity and still didn’t feel like it was her place. But there wasn’t any other way for them to understand.

“But…what?” Stephanie asked. “You raved about this guy, Jess—which, that’s a miracle in and of itself. This guy, who’s shown he respects you, doesn’t act like somedude,has a good relationship with his family and his employees, whose biggest flaw according to you is that he’s gruff around the edges but is really a big softie, was worried about you and did research to help, and you’ve decided that supporting you is going to be too much for him because…?”

“He’s neurodivergent!” Jess snapped, jumping to her feet. “It’s beyond being sensitive. It’s going to emotionallyandphysically harm him if he’s around me when I’m upset, and it’s not right for me to ask him to do something that’s going to be too much for him.”

“Hmm,” Stephanie said, nonchalantly checking her nails. “Did he tell you that it would be too much for him?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Jess said.

“You just decided that on your own?” Alice asked. “Just made the decision to end the relationship in order to protect him?”

“Umm…” Jess didn’t like where her friends seemed to be heading.

“Al, does deciding what a neurodivergent person can and cannot handle without discussing it with them sound a little ableist to you?” Stephanie asked.

The air whooshed out of Jess’s lungs. She glanced at Alice.

“It does, indeed,” she said, shrugging again and putting her pen down.

Embarrassment crashed over Jess, making her skin go cold. What they were saying—that she was being a hypocrite, and even ableist—hurt, but they weren’t wrong. Her actions could certainly be read that way. Being called out was a gut punch. However, as her best friends, that was kind of their job. She plopped onto the couch. Stephanie reached out, pulled her close and hugged her. Alice picked up her pen.

“Sorry, Atalanta,” Stephanie said into her hair. “But you can be hardheaded. Sometimes we have to thump to get our message across.”

“It doesn’t mean we don’t love you,” Alice said.

“I know,” Jess said. “I love you, too.”

“So,” Alice said. “Jess is going to get in touch with Mo. See if he is interested in working things out. Because he clearly wanted to be there for her. To support her.”

“Okay,” Jess said. “I will. But I have you all, too.”

“You do,” Steph said. “But Mo doesn’t need three planes and a taxi driver to give you a hug when you need one.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Jess

It was simply too hot. In the small strip of shade under the edge of the archery canopy, Jess waved the cutaway collar of her brown linen pirate shirt up and down, trying to get more air to reach her skin as she leaned against the support post. It was the opening day of the Renaissance Faire, and while her garb had been comfortable to practice in and for the photoshoot, it was a bit too much for a surprisingly hot fall day.

Most of that morning had been a bit too much: the colors, the music, the smell of meats being roasted and kettle corn being popped. It had been strange to see the stands prepared and festooned with their brightly colored banners and ribbons at the final archery practice the day before. They’d been pretty, yet frozen in time. Now they’d come alive, the aisles packed with people in flashy and audacious garb—from the School volunteers, to “Rennies” that Brian, Keith, and Theo had recruited, to smiling patrons. Everyone laughing and bowing to one another, speaking with overcomplicated words and phrases. Jess might teach classes on the period, but she had no desire tospeakthe period. Brian and Keith were kind enough to speak normally with her.

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