Page 27 of Wish You Were Her

Allegra hid in the green room during Pamela’s event, watching it live on the monitor that had been set up.

It showed what the viewers at home would be seeing.

Allegra had suggested they provide online streaming for the event, as thousands of Wilcox fans would want to be involved, but unable to reach Lake Pristine.

When Pamela stepped onstage, her first stage in a decade, the entire room erupted. Allegra hugged her father and felt little-girl pride at seeing how wet his eyes were. The standing ovation lasted for four minutes before Pamela gestured for everyone to sit.

“So proud of you,” George whispered to Allegra, before he was pulled away to meet with the caterers.

“I just want to preface our conversation with a momentary acknowledgment,” Pamela said, when the audience eventually quietened enough for her to be heard.

“I am only here because one girl asked me. And if that girl wasn’t the sweetest, dearest girl who took one of my characters and breathed life into her, in such a way that the whole world is now in love with her… ”

The room began to applaud again and despite the kind words, Allegra winced.

“… The girl who never asks for anything. The girl who got hypothermia on set. The girl who is always early, last to leave and nice to the press and the fans, even when they didn’t deserve it. She is the reason I’m here.”

The room exploded once more and Allegra, while grateful, felt her heart start to pound. She was safe in the green room, but she unconsciously backed up a little anyway, feeling as if the walls and ceiling were closing in on her as she fought to breathe.

A camera was petrifying enough. A stage was death.

Fortunately, Melena Banks, the debut author who was chairing, asked an opening question and the event began. Melena asked about how Pamela structured her novels and Pamela spoke eloquently. She was so inspiring, the green room fell into comfortable silence and all settled in to watch her event.

After forty-five minutes, Melena turned to the audience and asked if anyone had any questions.

“I will repeat them into the microphone so everyone can hear,” she said, looking about the vast crowd of people. Many hands were in the air and she eventually settled on a man of about forty.

“Is Allegra Brooks here?” he asked, bluntly. His voice was loud enough for him to be heard without amplification.

“Um,” the debut author smiled nervously, but shook her head once. “Do you have a question for Pamela?”

“Next,” Pamela said shortly, and someone asked her about the process of her current draft.

“That man was old enough to be your dad,” Simon said, suddenly appearing by Allegra’s side.

Allegra started at his arrival and felt a small twinge of protectiveness over the Court of Bystanders fan. “The one who asked the question? It’s okay, they’re just enthusiastic.”

“He’s a grown man asking for the whereabouts of an eighteen-year-old girl.”

“Because he likes the show I was in.”

“I don’t think men like you in that show for your acting.”

The reply was so horrifying, Allegra was rendered momentarily speechless. “What the fuck, Simon?”

“Sorry,” he said, clearly embarrassed. “That was cracked.”

“Yeah.”

She saw him glance back toward the front desk of the green room. She followed his gaze. Kerrie had reappeared, wearing a yellow festival t-shirt. She had volunteered at the last minute and was now saying something to Jonah, something that was amusing enough for him to smile down at her.

Allegra felt a memory from the night before nudge at her mind and she grew hot as she remembered where the night had almost gone. She was back under the table, recalling every touch and every word.

“Jonah is such a prick,” Simon said.

Allegra jolted back into the room. “What?”

“He’s just so rude. I hate how crappy he’s been to you.”

“It’s fine,” Allegra said. “He’s just… not a bullshitter.”

“That’s not the medical term.”

“Simon!” Allegra turned to face him. “What is wrong with you today? Why are you being such a dick?”

He looked, for one quick beat, like a little boy who was surprised at being scolded. But then he fixed his face quickly and scowled. “He’s just pissed me off. I don’t like how he’s treated you, Allegra.”

“I’ve given it right back to him, each time,” Allegra snapped. “Don’t talk about me like I’m overly precious. We’ve sparred a few times. Who cares? It’s fine.”

“Let me take you out tonight,” Simon wheedled. “We’ve hardly had any time, just the two of us.”

Perhaps it was the way Jonah leaned closer to Kerrie to hear her say something in his ear, or perhaps it was the memory of the two of them discussing her the night before as if she were an unfortunate ghost who had floated into the attic of Lake Pristine, but whatever the reason, she turned to Simon: “Sure.”

Loud and vigorous applause alerted the two of them to the end of the event and volunteers leaped into action. The signing tent was next to the Pamela H. J. Wilcox event and Allegra watched from the green room as the author was hurried to her table by two volunteers, who turned into blurs of yellow.

Allegra smiled and, by the time everyone had met Pamela or had a book signed, and every copy they had ordered in was sold (including the movie tie-in editions), the author returned to the green room. She embraced Allegra tightly and said, “Only for you.”

And then was gone.

Allegra regretted going with Simon to the Lake Pristine Arthouse the moment they were on Main Street. The Arthouse stood at the end of the street, shining and welcoming, but Allegra was increasingly aware of her lukewarm feelings for Simon, and also how busy the small town suddenly seemed.

“The population usually triples during festival time, but Pamela will have brought it up to quadruple,” Simon said.

Shuttle buses had taken plenty of visitors back to the city, as Lake Pristine had no hotels or bed and breakfasts, but it seemed that a lot had stayed behind to eat, drink and celebrate the beautiful summer.

And stare.

Allegra was aware of how much Simon was relishing that.

“The cinema has a nice little bar area,” Simon told her, though she already knew this.

“Grace’s brother runs it,” she said, recoiling as one man came far too close, staring at her with such intensity, it felt like a pinch.

“Arthur, yeah.”

Someone snapped a picture of the two of them and then took off running with their companion, both of them giggling like children. Allegra felt her heart begin to hurt.

Walking in Lake Pristine had become something so soothing and freeing for her of late and now it was being spoiled by the outside world bleeding in.

She tried to take a deep breath, but the tightness in her chest made her ache and for a moment she felt as if she were drowning out of water.

She told herself that it was just a picture here, a murmur there. She was still safe. She was fine.

When they reached the Arthouse, she was pleased to see that it was relatively empty and quiet.

The lights were dimmed in the seating area of the bar and the vibe was relaxed and seemingly discreet.

The two of them found a quiet corner and Simon sat a little too close to her, which made her realize that when she and Jonah had been wrapped around one another the night before, she had felt as though he could never be close enough.

She was constantly aware of Jonah whenever they were in a room together.

She could feel herself putting on a show when he was looking at her while she spoke to someone else.

She felt exposed every time they locked eyes.

She thought about the email he had sent, not knowing that she was the recipient.

Wish you were her. The words had made her smile.

Even though they had been a mistake. She desperately wanted to attribute some deeper meaning to the typo, but she knew there probably was none.

He was physically attracted to her, and a little intrigued because she was someone he had seen on a screen.

She felt none of those intense feelings with Simon. She couldn’t muster up a single thing. Her initial interest in him had been because she was deeply amused by the person behind the charming emails. Once it had become clear that he had nothing to do with them, all that potential went away.

She would need to make it clear to him that they were only meant to be friends. He had spent the summer bringing her little treats, asking her about her day and pressing her for book recommendations. She hoped none of that would stop now that she was dancing around his thorny colleague.

“Is it the best thing in the world?” Simon asked. “Having everyone know who you are? To be loved by everyone?”

Allegra smiled sadly at him. It was a common misconception, a fantasy that people dreamed up, a story they thought they knew, as if fame were the touch of a God or a romantic curse.

She knew it was neither. It was actually something altogether plainer.

It was a bargain, a handshake, a deal. An exchange.

Only, you didn’t know what you were giving up.

Money to buy yourself a home and keep your family safe would arrive, sporadically at first, and then hurriedly and in vast quantities.

The worry of “what if” would become something hidden behind a door.

Then, slowly and intrusively, the dealmakers would start to call in their chips.

The work was not enough, the interviews and the profiles.

The art that was wrought from the vulnerable blue in your veins, none of it was enough anymore.

They didn’t want a likeness of the flesh, they wanted to feel your skin under their nails. Seeing and reading and hearing were no longer fulfilling. They hungered to touch.

“I’m eighteen,” Allegra would hear herself saying to people, multiple times a day.

“Cool, that’s impressive. Sign here, kid.”