Page 75 of Wish You Were Her
Jasper smiled and Allegra was a little dazzled by it. “Do you have your own place?”
“Yes,” Allegra said. “An apartment in the city. I bought it when I turned eighteen. It’s… barely furnished, I’m hardly there. Only room that is finished is the walk-in wardrobe.” She paused for a beat and then groaned. “That makes me sound like a monster.”
Jasper regarded her with a warmth that made Allegra feel tearful. “No, it doesn’t. Makes you sound like someone who has had to grow up way too fast.”
Allegra didn’t know if it was exhaustion from preparing for the festival, overstimulation after a full day of working in the sun, or frustration after the stress of Simon’s unwanted kiss. Or Jonah’s all-seeing eyes.
But Jasper’s empathy released something in her.
And she started to cry.
Chapter Twenty-One
RE: Just Wondering
Dear Friend,
I was thinking. How old are you? You have a big career in social media, which feels like a young person’s game but it’s far more impressive than anything on my resumé. I was just wondering. I know we don’t talk too much about the personal stuff, but anyway…
Jonah
Subject: Just Telling
Let me guess. Someone close to you says that I’m ancient.
RE: (no subject)
Sorry!! No, that’s not it exactly. I was just wondering.
Allegra smiled to herself as she switched off her phone. The emails were giving her a touch of lightness that she desperately needed after a tumultuous evening. Jasper had let her cry and had now gone to wet a flannel so Allegra could wash her face. On returning, Jasper spoke to her softly, so softly, about how Allegra deserved all of the good things she had earned. That sacrifices were a part of success and it was all right to feel a sense of loss when she looked at her achievements, as well as pride. She explained that imposter syndrome seemed to plague women who didn’t deserve it more than it did the men who made money from their art. It was the speech Allegra had needed someone to make to her for years. While she knew twenty-three was not a big gap in terms of age and maturity, she looked at Jasper as though she were the wisest of women.
And Allegra knew. She just knew. This woman in her mid-twenties, who smiled at everyone and noticed who felt left out or too scared to talk, was like her.
“I’m autistic,” Allegra heard herself say. “The studios don’t know. The fans, my co-workers, no one. Only my team and my parents. And Grace.”
Jasper’s smile did not falter, there was not a fleck of surprise in her face. “Oh, really?”
“I’m not ashamed of it. But I can’t always cope. I have these… I don’t know, these hangovers after press junkets. When I have to speak to hundreds of people. Or do a talk show.”
“Your body is taking on more stimulation than its designed for,” Jasper said quietly. “It’s not a flaw in you. It’s the infrastructure that’s the problem.”
“If I tell the networks, it’ll get out to the press. Then I’ll be vilified and held up as some kind of spokesperson all at once.”
Something flashed through Jasper’s eyes but she said nothingfor a moment. And then: “Your medical diagnosis is not anyone else’s business. No matter their relation to you. It’s yours to disclose. And I think you deserve some privacy.”
It felt like someone had finally given Allegra permission. She exhaled. She sat back and the claw that had been wrapped around her heart let go. “I feel like I owe everyone my whole life. All of the time. To reassure them that their investment or their admiration hasn’t been misplaced.”
