Page 70 of Yearning Difficulties

‘We can’t do anything at all, Killian,’ I retorted. ‘We shouldn’t have gone this far. It’s not right.’

He knelt in front of me and captured my face in his hands. ‘Everything about this is right, Zell.’

I felt panic swelling. ‘Killian, how many friends do you think I have?’

The question surprised him. ‘What?’

‘You heard me.’

‘You have Cherry.’

I wanted that to be true. ‘I barely know Cherry. And she keeps everything behind a wall of self-deprecation and shock humour.’

‘Max.’

I wanted to cry. ‘Max doesn’t live in Lake Pristine, Kill.’

He kissed me fiercely. ‘Me, then. And you’ll always have me.’

I don’t want to lose you, too. I don’t want to watch you drive away from Lake Pristine and stop calling.

‘I want us to stay friends,’ I said, pushing down the panic. ‘I’ll always be there for you. I want to see you be happy. This was just . . . just me being lonely and stupid.’

That was so far from the truth. But I could tell the exact moment that doubt started to enter the room. He frowned and sat back a little, staring at me with such intensity I had to look away.

‘We were both being stupid,’ I continued. ‘Come tomorrow morning, none of this happened. We’re friends, Kill. We can’t ruin that.’

I can’t lose you, too.

I drank in his face, from his distinctive nose to his long black lashes. I didn’t ever want to look away from him, but that scared me. Every hurt feeling I’d ever felt begged me to be cautious.

‘I don’t have many friends, Killian,’ I breathed, my eyes wet and my soul crushed. ‘There’s obviously something wrong with me. I’ve never been good at keeping people. I don’t want to lose you like I’ve lost so many others.’

He visibly swallowed, taking in my words. I watched him put up the emotional shutters.

‘Killian—’

He suddenly grabbed my hand, his thumb running over the mood ring he’d bought me. ‘What does this colour mean?’

He glared at me as he asked the question. I blinked, trying to keep the tears at bay. I refused to look down at my hand. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Look at it, Zella.’

‘No.’

He clenched his jaw and I could feel his visceral dissatisfaction. ‘Typical.’

I narrowed my eyes. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You don’t like to look at certain things, Red. Like the one glaring thing you and I have in common.’

Allegra Brooks and the magazine article flickered into my mind again. ‘Don’t.’

‘Maybe you’ll stop gaslighting yourself and your own feelings when you choose to actually look at the reason why you feel like this. The reason you struggle with certain things. The reason why you feel like everyone is going to abandon you.’

‘You actually have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘I know better than anyone. And you know it, too. We’re the same, Zella. We’re both autistic. That’s why you’re panicked right now. Autistics, when they’re experiencing huge emotions, feel the walls close in around them. They lose the ability to regulate, they momentarily forget that the outside world and the people in it are real—’