Page 32 of The Pacifist
“Like what?”
“Things.”
“What things?”
I turned my head. “Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.”
Letting out a sigh, I looked at her. “I saw Python’s letter in your bag.”
Mila propped herself up on her elbow. “And?”
“And nothing… I just wonder why you would bring it. Was it that special?”
Mila rolled over and picked the letter out of her bag. “You didn’t read it!”
“No, of course not. It’s yours. Wait... how did you know I didn’t read it?”
“Because you would never do that. You’re a Motlander.”
“What is that supposed to mean? Motlanders do stupid things all the time, Mila.”
“Yes, but we are raised to make good choices.”
Taking pride in being a rebel, I didn’t like how she made us sound like a monolith of conformity. “There are more than one point six billion Motlanders in this world. Some of us break rules and challenge the system. We are not a homogenous group by any means.”
“You mean the alcohol?”
“Among other things.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll never tell on you.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about. It just annoys me that you think I’m some kind of saint when I’m not.”
Holding the letter up, she tapped it against her other hand. “Are you upset that I trust you?”
“No, but I’m tired of being put into a box that I don’t belong in.”
“What box would that be?”
“The sweet guy that isn’t a threat.”
Her eyebrows rose up. “Excuse me?”
I sat up and rubbed my face. “I’m sorry that came out wrong. It’s just that I hate that you’re attracted to all those big brooding well-muscled guys, when they don’t deserve you.”
“That’s a weird thing to say, Jonah. Not every Nman is a brooding giant. Some of them have a lot of humor and they can be sweet and kind. I resent that you talk about them in such a negative way. You’re better than that.”
I groaned with frustration. “I’m not, though! That’s my whole point, Mila. I’m a flawed man with a ton of emotions and I refuse to suppress them just because they’re ugly.”
“Ugly how?” Mila moved into a meditation position with her ankles crossed and her knees pressed outward.
“There’s anger for one. Just thinking about them taking you away from me.”
She blinked at me. “You’re jealous.”
Even though something inside me recognized her words as the truth, my pride was hurt. Jealousy was associated with people who lacked emotional maturity. She might as well have called me primitive and out of control. I pushed the thought away and grasped for another explanation.
