Vain (9 page)

“They’re in my bathroom. Shelf,” I said,
lying down.
Some of the shots I’d gotten hurt tremendously. I’m not joking. The needles were huge and the injections felt warm and invasive.

Spencer brought me a glass of water and a fever reducer.
I drank it down quickly. We both laid down on the bed facing the ceiling after I turned the stereo on low.

“Well
, that was enlightening.”

“I’m frighten
ed beyond belief, Spencer.”

He sighed loud
ly. “I know, Soph. I can tell.”

“It’s a good thing I haven’t use
d my father’s stupid card yet.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I would have gotten short shorts and tank tops had I not known I needed to wear longer sleeves and pants.”

“Christ, Soph. This is scaring the shit out of me and I’m not eve
n going. I’m panicked for you.”

He dr
agged me over to him and culled me into his body, spooning me and smoothing my hair behind my ear. It was the first time a guy had ever done anything like this with completely innocent intentions and I fought the tears burning to shed. He was so nice to me and I didn’t really know why. I mean, yeah, he did want to sleep with me. What guy didn’t, if I was being honest with myself, which was my own fault but Spencer wasn’t asking me to do anything. He was offering himself as comfort without any expectations in return.

I turned over and wrapped my arms around him. He hugged me fiercely in return. After a few minutes, I drew back and looked into his eye
s.

“You’re a
good man, aren’t you, Spencer?”

He laug
hed at me. “No, I’m not, Soph.”

“You’re a liar.”

“I’m not a good man.”

“Then you just a
ren’t aware of it, but you are.”

“Fine, fine.
I’m a friggin’ saint, yada, yada. Can we get you your shit before all the stores close? I want this Africa shit done and over with so we can finish out the week in total debauchery.”

He made me laugh
, but he wasn’t fooling me. Somehow, growing up in the house he did, with the father he had, Spencer had the unbelievable potential to become a very great man. He amazed me. I suppose the choices you make really are what define you.
Why can’t you get into him then?
 

I took my father’s card and
maxed it out. I bought all new sturdy canvas luggage because my soft leather designer bags weren’t going to cut it, obviously. Spencer took me to the store his mother visits when she goes on safari and the clerk there was exceedingly helpful, informing me what would work best in mid-Africa and what I could get away with. I only bought a few things but still took their advice to my own favorite shops. The hell I would look like a slob if I could help it.

I bought fifteen pairs of badass jeans and a lot of formfitting button
-ups as well as a few knee-length riding boots to wear over my jeans. It wouldn’t define me, that fashion sense, but it would keep me safe and I had to admit I wouldn’t look like a total slob. I tried on a complete outfit for Spencer and paraded around him in the store.

“You look transformed. I’m not used to seeing you so casual.” My shoulders slumped a little in disappointment and my signature pout came to the forefront. “Oh, please,” he continued, “you look sexy as hell as if I needed to say it. Your ass is the sweetest I’ve ever seen
,
especially
in those jeans.”

I smiled devilishly at him. “Thank you,” I told him, sashaying off, swinging my hips from side to side. His audible groan sent that secret thrill through my stomach again
, but it was short-lived by that nagging sense of guilt.
What is wrong with me!?

When Spencer took me home and helped me load all my purchases into my bedroom, we came across a massive pile of things resting on top of my bed along with a letter from
Pembrook.

Pemmy
told me to go with the impression that I wouldn’t have electricity ever, as Masego only had it sporadically and for maybe a day at that. All that translated to me when he wrote that was I wouldn’t be able to fix my hair and I had nothing but cold showers in my future. He included a huge bed net to protect me from insects at night, a massive medical kit containing things I’m fairly certain only a doctor should have a license to handle, various over-the-counter medicines as well as prescription antibiotics from Dr. Ford, which, by the way, looked like they were lifted directly from the pharmacist’s shelf. The bottles obviously held hundreds of pills. It made me nervous just looking at them.

Pemmy closed his letter telling me that he loved me like a daughter and he wished me to be careful. I didn’t know what to think of that, but I’d be lying if I told you it didn’t make me smile...just a little.
 

CHAPTER SIX
 

I woke at three in the morning shaking. Dr. Ford had told my father about Spencer’s sleepover and that had been the last night Spencer was able to stay much to my dismay. If ever I needed a warm body by my side, it was through the long nights before my departure.
Nights of quiet. Nights of speeding thoughts and concocted scenarios of danger and disease.
I stood in the shower for close to half an hour, attempting to let the steam soothe my fears, but it did no good, no good at all. I stepped from the water and wrapped a towel around myself. I stood in front of the mirror and took a good hard look. I was as bare as I could make myself, no makeup with wet, stringy hair. I hated to look at myself in this state. I didn’t feel real. I felt too exposed and that made me exceedingly nervous, but I made myself look that morning. I memorized that girl. That girl
was
the real me. Frightened. Worthless. A terrible friend. Terrible daughter. Well educated but so limited in ideas worth having. Beautiful yet repulsive...
And finally honest.
Spencer picked me up that morning for my flight at seven in the morning. He rang me from inside the house and I met him in the foyer standing next to Pembrook, no sign of my mother or father.

“Sophie,”
Pembrook smiled, “here are all your necessary papers. An emergency card, as well as cash. Keep these close to your body. You’re flying to Germany first, then Dubai, staying the night. The hotel arrangements are in your travel documents. A car has been arranged to pick you up there. From Dubai you will fly to Nairobi, Kenya, where a small plane has been chartered to take you to Kampala, Uganda. Look for a boy named Dingane to pick you up. I’ve taken the liberty of outfitting your case with a satellite phone for...”

“Emergencies?”
I asked, smiling back.
Pembrook’s shoulders visibly relaxed and he wrapped his long, lanky arms around my shoulders.

“Do be careful, my dear,” he whispered against my hair before speeding off down the hall.
I sighed as I watched him make way for the kitchens. I turned to Spencer and smiled again.

He held his hand out to me and I took it. He squeezed it softly. “It’ll be okay,” he reassured
, but I didn’t believe him.

I looked around me, at how empty the foyer was and felt a little disappointed that
Sav and the rest of my friends hadn’t shown up. I’d texted them the night before, but I suppose there was no reason to say goodbye to someone they cared very little for.

I met Spencer’s eyes once more. “They didn’t come,” I told him matter-of-factly.

“No, they didn’t,” he stated.

“No need to dwell. I’ll just be a moment,” I told him and he
aded toward my father’s office.

I knocked on his door and heard a faint
“enter.” I obeyed and turned the handle. Billowing cigar smoke enveloped me before dissipating behind me. The cleared smoke revealed my father, busy as usual, and on his phone.

“No! No! I never agreed to that!” My father turned my direction. “Just a minute, will you?” he asked the receiver. “What is it?” he asked m
e.

“I’m-I’m off.”

“Good luck.”

And just like that he was immersed in his phone conversation and I closed the heavy wooden door behind me. On the way back to the foyer, I passed one of our
maidservants Margarite carrying folded towels to one of the guest suites.

“Have you seen Mrs.
Price this morning, Margarite?”

“Yes, she has gone to t
own for a morning of shopping.”

“Ah, I
see. Tell her that you saw me?”

“Of course,
miss.” Margarite’s eyes softened. “Is there anything else you’d like me to convey, miss?”

“No.”

“As you wish, miss,” Margarite said before going about her business again.
I followed suit but could feel her eyes look back at me as if she pitied me. I cringed at the thought that my maid felt sorry for me.

“I’m ready,” I told Spencer.

“I’ve loaded your bags already.”

“Thank you, Spence.”

The ride to the airport was eerily quiet. I contemplated the almost twenty hours of flying I had in my future, not including my overnight stay in Dubai. My hands began to visibly shake and Spencer stilled them with his own. Regina Spektor’s
All the Rowboats
began to play and I couldn’t help but let the haunting melody seep into my skin. The words felt prophetic, although the subjects of her song were entirely objects, but when I really defined myself, that’s what I was, a mere object and it was all by my own doing. I was those breathing objects, desperately aching to escape, to live, and suddenly a calm washed over me.

All the talk of danger, disease and devastation frightened me
, but I was ready for a change, just as desperate and just as aching to escape, to live, really live, as the songs and paintings in her words.

We pulled up to the unloading zone and Spencer opened my door for me. He looked deflated.

“No worries, my very good friend.”

He smiled but the grin never touched his eyes. His hands dug into his pockets. “And that’s all I’ll ever be to you, I think.”

My shoulders sank into the car door a bit. “Spencer, please...”

“
Shh,” he said, pressing the pad of his thumb at my lips. His fingers grazed my cheek slightly when he pulled away. “Absolutely no worries, Sophie Price.” He smiled in sincerity then and my heart dropped a tad for him.

“I’ll miss you very much,” I admitted to the only real friend I’d ever really had but only very recently realized.

“As I’ll miss you. I’ve just discovered you’re as lost as I am and now you leave.”

“By court order,” I jested, making his grin wider.

“I’ll give you that.” He sighed. “We were supposed to find our way together though.”

“I’ll still be as lost when I come back. We can pick up from there, Spence.”

Spencer grabbed my bags and laid them on the cart the porter had brought over.

“I’ll see
you in six months,” I told him.

“I’ll be right here,” he said, pointing
toward the pavement. “Waiting.”

I grazed his cheek and squeezed my eyes painfully. “Don’t wait for m
e, Spencer,” I whisper ordered.

Spencer pulled me from him. “I’ll do as I damn well please, Price. Now get.”
I smiled at him and followed the porter. When I turned back around for a final wave he’d already gone.
 

Twenty hours of flight, despite a night of sleep in The Palm in Dubai still feels like twenty hours of flight. When I arrived in Africa by way of Nairobi, I didn’t get a chance to absorb the continent as I only had twenty minutes to catch my Cessna
, but when my little chartered plane landed, barely, and the stairs were brought out, the door opened, I looked out onto a most wonderful sight, a breathtaking sight. A sight of green lush vegetation, dirt red with iron and the expansive blue and breathtaking Lake Victoria. My breath sucked into my chest as I took it all in. It was
incredibly
beautiful.

I descended the stairs and was met with my luggage at my feet and a happy African young man with dark mocha
face and gleaming white teeth.