Page 7 of The Pacifist
Jonah frowned. “Allow you?Mila, what are you talking about? You’ll be twenty-two in six weeks. You’re an adult woman. No one can control you unless you let them.”
I bit my lip. “No, I know that. It’s just that he tolerates our touching and being friends, but for me to go with you without an escort; that would be unheard of.”
Jonah raised an eyebrow. “Are you afraid that if you go with me, I’ll overstep your boundaries?”
The idea of Jonah coming on to me, made my heart hammer, and my mouth felt dry, but I managed to make a “tsk” sound. “No, of course not. I’m pretty sure if you were interested in me that way, you would have made a move already. It’s just that my tournament is coming up in the spring and if the participants learned that I was traveling alone with a man, rumors might spark.”
Jonah kept his eyes locked with me a little longer than usual. “Except they all perceive me as a homosexual, don’t they?”
I looked down, biting back my desire to ask Jonah if they were right. Jonah and I were close friends but he had never brought up sexuality before and neither had I.
“Mila?”
“Yes?” I lifted my gaze.
“I’m right about them thinking I’m a homosexual, aren’t I?”
Forcing out the words, I admitted, “Probably. Or maybe asexual.” If Raven were here, she would have shamelessly asked Jonah what his sexual orientation was, but I wasn’t that straightforward.
“Hmm…" He said, “So why don’t we use that to our advantage and you can come back with me for a visit?”
When I didn’t answer, Jonah reached for my hand. “Say yes, please.”
“Can I think about it?”
“Sure.”
We walked the dogs for a few minutes until we came close to the obstacle course in the park where Mason, my younger brother, was working out with two of the soldiers who belonged to the security here at the Gray Manor.
“Hey, Jonah, come here.” Mason was gesturing and whistling and it made all the dogs sprint toward him.
We turned in the same direction.
CHAPTER 2
The Obstacle Course
Jonah
Mason stood in front of the obstacle course with his hands on his hips and a big smug grin on his face. “I’ll bet I can beat you by more than twenty seconds.”
The boyish excitement that radiated from the eleven-year-old, was amusing, but I didn’t doubt that he was right. Mason was born to compete.
“You wantmeto race you?”
“That’s right. I’ve seen you running in the park and this morning you did push-ups. Think of this as just another type of exercise.”
“But…” I didn’t get to finish my sentence before he interrupted me.
“Just do your best. Nobody expects you to be good at it.”
“Umm…” I wasn’t sure what to say to this self-assured boy who was already taller than me despite being only ten for a few more months.
“You shouldn’t pressure him,” one of the guards said. “Motlanders don’t like to push themselves.”
It had been a year and a half since I first visited the Northlands. In that time, I’d learned not to get offended by their insulting assumptions about me.
Looking over the obstacle course, I asked, “Okay, so what do we have to do?”
