Asking for More by Lilah Pace Page A

green leaf . . . they prove that’s not true.”
    â€œProve it to who?” I ask, though I’m pretty sure I already know.
    Sure enough, she answers, “To myself.”
    Her feelings ring true. I’ve seen the same shadows within Jonah.
    Rebecca and I lapse into small talk, inconsequential but comfortable. After about half an hour we part well, though again without a hug. But the smile she gives me is sincere. Then I tiptoe back into the main room to see Jonah sprawled on his belly, dead to the world. The sheet covers him only to the waist, exposing his broad, muscled back. His strong profile is silhouetted against the white pillowcase, and the sheet is thin enough for me to clearly trace the lines of his amazing ass, his long legs.
    If he were any less tired, I don’t know if I could resist waking him up and having him here and now.
    But he
is
tired. I undress right there, in the middle of the room, moonlight painting my skin pale blue as I peel off my clothes and my bra. In the sultry summer heat, I’d prefer to sleep naked, but this is not really an option when you’re staying on someone’s living room floor. So I settle on a flimsy tank top and very carefully crawl into bed beside Jonah, both of us covered by one thin white sheet.
    It wouldn’t have mattered if I jumped up and down on his pillow. Jonah is out cold. Good. He needs to rest.
    As I lie next to him, I think about what Rebecca said to me. Does Jonah see it that way too? Does he feel like he spends his whole life crossing the minefield his stepfather laid for him?
    It hits me all at once. All this time, I’ve been talking and thinking about recovering from my past trauma—but for me, at least, it’s
the past.
For Jonah, in some ways, it’s still happening.
    Am I the proof he can be good for someone? Or do our games prove to him that he’ll never be free of the poison inside?

Chapter Four
    When do you know that you deeply, truly love another person?
    Movies and ads tell us the cues will be big and splashy: kisses in the rain, public avowals of passion, an enormous diamond ring, even a gift-wrapped Lexus in the driveway.
    What I know is, if you can wait in bureaucratic offices alongside another human being and then stand in line with him for hours, sometimes without air conditioning, and never once regret being by his side?
That
’s love.
    Jonah, Rebecca, and I finally walk out of the consulate in the late afternoon, each of us worn out. “I can’t believe they couldn’t help you more than that,” Jonah says shortly. He’s pushed the sleeves of his black linen shirt up to his elbow; this, combined with his dark expression, makes him look more like a brawler than someone who just filled out forms in triplicate.
    â€œIt’s Saturday,” Rebecca reminds him. She has remained the calmest of us all, by far. “We’re lucky they were able to do this much. Besides, I have the essentials.” She pats the side of her new bag—a crossbody one with reinforced straps Jonah and I bought for her at the Austin airport. Within it now are the debit card Jonah provided and temporary ID she can use until her new passport arrives.
    â€œYou need more than the essentials.” I’ve seen Rebecca squinting against the sunlight throughout the day. So I point further down the road, toward an area with what looks like cafes and stores. “Sunglasses? Sunblock? Some Chapstick?”
    â€œSounds like a plan,” Rebecca says. Jonah, whose temper has been better, clearly isn’t in the mood to shop. But he’d never deny his sister anything she needed, so he nods shortly as we set out that way.
    Jonah’s mood remains . . . not black. But dark gray at best. The anger he feels toward his sister’s unknown attacker has nowhere to go, and the day’s countless irritations have surely only made it worse. I’m not exactly on cloud nine