Vain - Ian POV Scene

When Ian Aberdeen Meets Sophie Price.


            I casually leaned against the windows lining the main corridor of Entebbe International waiting for the spoiled brat, drug user Karina ordered me to get regardless of the fact that I had better things to do at Masego. I only agreed to it because she promised me koeksister. She could always bribe me with food much to my dismay.
            I shifted my body, sitting on the bit of wall supporting the window and crossed my arms and legs then sighed. I glanced at my watch. I’d been waiting close to an hour. It’d taken me four hours to get there, add the four hours it would take to drive us back and I was looking at nine hours of travel total.
            I slid my hands through my hair and tucked the loose ends behind my ears. Need to get it cut, I thought. I struggled internally on whether or not I should trim it or not because it was the perfect length to keep behind my ears and since I never had time to shear it, I knew I might as well keep it at the length it was to avoid it sliding in my face. I vacillated back and forth between what to do while I waited. It was quite the conundrum, let me tell you.
            I hoisted myself up and yawned, staring down at my feet and toeing at a scuffmark against the wall, only making it worse. When I turned around. When I bloody turned ‘round, I was gob smacked by what I’d found, struck absolutely speechless.
            Coming down the corridor, bags trailing behind her was unequivocally and unconditionally the most stunning creature I’d ever had the pleasure to look upon. She was terrifyingly beautiful. My tongue grew thick in my mouth, my entire body heated to an unnatural degree and I struggled for breath.
            Oh my God, I thought, it cannot be. Please, God, you would not be so cruel to me.
            Her long straight hair looked like the color of honey and the sun from the windows washed over it, bringing out bits of tawny and blonde. It glided over her shoulders as she walked. The mass swished forward, over her elbows and down her forearms, when she stopped to retrieve something from her bag.
            If I’d had the right to, I would have run my fingers throughout its length, memorized the weight of it, brought it to my face and smelled its fragrance.
            Her face was flawless; her skin sun kissed yet looked porcelain in texture. Her lips were full but the bottom was just a little bit fuller. It puckered naturally and I instantly daydreamed of pulling it between my teeth. Just envisioning the act, made my stomach drop to my feet, my lids felt heavy.
            Her eyes were big and round, the color of amber with flecks of wheat and gold. They searched curiously around her but she didn’t take notice of me, hidden in the shadows as I stalked closer to her.
            Her body. My dear sweet Lord, her body. Everything about it was just so enticing. Her hips begged me to pinch them between my fingers. I closed my eyes, imagined palming the dip in her stomach, following the lines of her sides, grasping her rib cage right beneath her breasts, my thumbs below and my fingers at her back.
            I snapped my eyes back open. Kak! Shit! Get your shit together, Ian!
            She lifted a notebook from her bag and opened it. “Din-Gain?” she said. “What kind of name is that?”
            “It’s Din-John-E,” I explained.
            Her head shot up but she didn’t say anything for a few moments, making me exceedingly nervous. I tucked my hair behind my ears again and shoved my hands in my pockets. She opened her incredible mouth, disabling my words. I involuntarily leaned over her.
            “Are you the one they call Sophie?” I asked stiffly, beyond pissed that I was going to be imprisoned for six months with this heavenly looking girl, sharing a wall with her even. But as heavenly as she looked, her reputation had preceded her and suddenly she dulled slightly in my eyes. I knew what she was all about because I used to belong to her superficial world.
            “I am.”
            “I am Dingane,” I explained.
            “But you’re white,” she blurted.
            Her eyes widened in embarrassment.
            “You are incredibly astute,” I told her.
            “I’m sorry, I was-I was just expecting an African,” she stammered.
            I barely stifled an eye roll. “My name is Ian. Dingane is a nickname, but I am African. My ancestors came to South Africa in the seventeen-hundreds from England,” I explained away, not really feeling like I owed her anything more since I found the statement presumptuous.
            “Oh. What-what does Dingane mean?” she asked.
            “Don’t worry about it,” I said and bent to pick up her luggage.
            “I can get that,” she said, reaching toward the floor.
            “I already have them. Follow me.”
            Suddenly, her bumbling ways melted away from her and she met me stride for stride. I watched her from the corner of my eye. Maybe she isn’t an idiot.
            I lead her to my jeep, threw the bags into the back and began to strap them down. She stood there, watching me, her eyes narrowed. She made me hotter than the heat that morning and that royally pissed me off because Uganda is the surface of the sun.
            “Are you expecting me to open your door for you?” I huffed.
            “Do I look like I expect you to open my door for me?” she bit back.
            I narrowed my eyes at her. “Then why stand there?” I asked.
            “It would be presumptuous of me to just sit inside your jeep without you, don’t you think? Possibly rude?”
            My hands rested over the straps and I stared at her, drinking her unbelievable face in. I remembered myself, remembered my breeding and walked briskly to her side of the car, opening the door for her before turning back to the driver’s side and letting myself in.
            I sat and immediately inhaled her intoxicating scent. It sent my eyes into the back of my head. She’s not good, I kept telling myself. Stop it already.
            “How old are you?” she asked.
            “Twenty,” I said succinctly.
            I started the jeep and when we got to open road, I told her, “It’ll take an hour to get to the city capital. Kampala is a busy city, Miss Price, and I’d rather not stop, but I suspect it will be our only opportunity to eat before the long journey back to Lake Nyaguo.”
            “I ate just before we landed,” she said, though I suspected she was lying.
            “If you’re game to go straight through then so am I.”
            And that was the last thing I said to her almost the entire journey . . . because if I didn’t build a wall, I was going to regret it. I just knew it. Nothing tempted me, nothing distracted me and I needed to keep it that way. As long as she stops staring at you, as long as you stop noticing her impossible legs . . . As long.

* * *

Chapter Seven

            “That’s Lake Nyaguo,” I told her after hours of silence. “Masego Orphanage is just north of this lake. Charles owns the land we drive through now.”
            “How much does he own?”
            “Approximately five thousand acres. He owns the land north of the lake as well as south and his property lines go east from there.”
            “Why did he buy land in Uganda?” she asked.
            “Why not?”
            “Fair enough,” she conceded.
            I sighed, exasperated with myself more than with her. “This is his life’s work. He wanted the land to accomplish it. Surprisingly, land in this part of Uganda is inexpensive.” I smirked, couldn’t help myself.
            Half an hour later, we’d rounded the east side of the blue lake and were on a straight red dirt road.
            “Masego is just five minutes up this drive,” I stated.
            “What’s it like?” she asked.
            I thought about the children. “It is beautiful. It is horrifying,” I told her truthfully. “I feel I must prepare you,” I continued.
            She visibly swallowed. “Prepare me for what?”
            “For the children here. Some will be deformed.”
            Deformed?
            “Maimed.”
            “I know what you meant but why?”
            “Do you know nothing of our facility?” I asked, briefly narrowing my eyes her direction. I was shocked Pembrook didn’t tell her.
            “I know nothing. I know only that it is an orphanage.”
            I breathed out slowly. “We are too close to begin explaining now. Charles or his wife, Karina, should explain it all to you when you arrive. I don’t have time. I’ve spent the entire day driving to fetch you and I need to catch up on a mended fence at the northeastern edge of the property line.”
            “Thank you . . . for fetching me,” she bit out.
            I squirmed in my seat. I hated it when she reminded me of how rude I was. I needed to get as far away from her as possible, away from her sinfully beautiful face and mouth, away from the ridiculous crush I was forming on the brat from Los Angeles.
            Just a few meters away, I caught sight of the Masego sign and felt a rush of relief.
            “What does Masego mean?” she asked.
            “Blessings.”
            She studied me. I could feel her gaze burning into the side of my face. “You’re a man of few words, Dingane of South Africa.”
            I fought a smile but quickly shook it. Don’t let her get to you, I mumbled under my breath. I practically jumped out of the jeep to open the gate. As I pushed apart the large doors, her stare was so heavy on my back I had to stifle a shudder. Everything about her was too sensual. Everything about her was too . . . much.
            I hesitantly jumped back into the jeep and steered us through before getting out once more and closing the gates behind us.
            When the children heard my jeep, they came running out, crowding my side before I’d even come to a stop.
            “Dingane! Dingane!” they all shouted as they raced around to my side of the jeep.
            They began to beat at the side, urging me to get out but I couldn’t because they blocked me. I began laughing, trying to free myself.
            “Okay! Okay! I told them. Calm yourselves! I’m here!”
            Once I’d greeted them, they became curious of Sophie and shyly tested the area around her. Sophie met my eyes. They were wide and scared and I felt badly for not easing her into meeting them. I nodded once, letting her know she needed to greet them.
            She looked down on them and tried to smile. I raised my hand and gestured toward her. “Children, this is Sophie Price.”
            “Sophie, Sophie, Sophie,” they repeated over and over.
            “Hello,” she greeted them shyly.
            Kato approached her and touched her clothing. She stood still and the rest surrounded her completely. They pulled on her clothing, telling her she was pretty, telling her she was nice, asking to touch her hair and clothing. They tugged her down to their level and examined her with their hands. To her credit, she let them and she smile gentled. They smoothed her clothing over with their hands or ran their fingers over her hair. A slight ping of envy as their little fingers threaded her hair resonated through me, shaming me. Sarah told her she was “soft”. A green burn settled in my gut.
            She was fighting tears as I fought the urge to recognize that she may actually be compassionate. Compassion was a rare thing and it would have made her human. Humanity was lost on so many people but you could never really tell as they all generally faked it. I’d only known a handful of genuine humans and I doubted Sophie Price was one of them.
            “Dingane, where is our prisoner?” Charles asked, startling me from my revelry. The children scurried to his side and glued themselves there. “Yes, yes, you’re all very excited to see our newest member, but let’s all calm ourselves.” I watched her stand. “Now, where is she? Ah, our latest victim!” he jested. He approached her and threw his arms around her, picking her up in one motion and swinging her playfully from side to side. “You must be the infamous Sophie Price! I’ve heard many things about you, child!”
            “All good I hope?” she asked. I almost balked at that.
            “No, not all good,” he told her honestly, making her blush prettily.
            She peered my direction but I had nothing for her.
            “But that is neither here nor there,” Charles continued. “It has brought you to us and that is all that matters. Second chances. I’m all about second chances.”
            Second chances, I scoffed. But didn’t they give you a second chance?
            I ran away from my thoughts towards the fence that needed mending.

* * *

            When I was done with the fence, I came walking around to my side of the hut but stopped short as Karina and Sophie were there and I wanted to avoid Sophie Price until I got my attraction to her under control.
            “Come. I shall show you the showers,” Karina told her.
            Karina led her toward the showers and I couldn’t help myself from following a few feet behind them. When Sophie saw the stalls she shouted. She was terrified of the bugs. I stifled a laugh close to rolling my eyes but the look of pure trepidation written all over her face was enough to stop me. She was truly afraid and for some reason it pained me to think of her panicked every time she needed to clean herself. I was forming a plan courtesy of my heart and gut but my brain was screaming for me to let her fend for herself. She won’t even have to know you do it, Din.
            I turned and left them where they stood. I noticed that her bags were still in the back of my jeep. I caught Samuel by the arm as he walked by.
            “Samuel, why haven’t you taken her bags?” I asked out of desperation. I really didn’t want to be around her more than I had to.
            “Charles needs me,” he said in explanation. “Can you take them?”
            I blew out my frustration. “Fine,” I said, heading straight for my jeep.
            Maybe if you’re quick you can avoid her. I grabbed two bags and hustled to her side of the hut then ran back to the jeep for the other two. I was out of breath as I set the last bag down but I believed I’d missed her. I turned and almost ran into her.
            “Samuel was busy,” I blurted.
            “Ah, well, thank you, Dingane.”
            “No problem,” I said, squeezing through the tiny room toward the door. I turned around and stood a foot over her, almost skin to skin. I swallowed. “You’ll want to lock your doors so no animals try to get in,” I awkwardly advised and left, letting the door slam shut behind me.
            The boom made my eyes shut tightly. I felt awful for leaving her like that. I turned, raised my hand and readied to knock but hesitated, letting it fall to my side. I stood there, my breaths panting in and out. I felt like an idiot.
            I turned and pushed my own door open with my foot, reaching around and pulling my shirt over my head when I heard a scream. I tossed my shirt on the floor and ran over to her hut, my heart nearly pounding out of my chest.
            “What’s wrong?” I asked.
            “I-I . . .” she began but couldn’t finish. She pointed to a black millipede on her mattress.
            I breathed a little easier. “Oh, it’s only a millipede. Archispirostreptus gigas, to be exact. Take care if you come in contact with one, avoid touching your eyes and lips. They can be harmful.” Smooth. You’re really smooth, Din.
            “Get it out,” she ordered, eyes clenched closed. I picked it up off her mattress and opened the door, setting on the ground. I opened the door and noticed she still stood stock still, her eyes closed. She opened one then the other before the distress of the moment left her. She replaced it with something altogether hilarious.
            “Stop judging me,” she quipped, her upper lip stiff with resolve.
            “Who said I was judging?” I lazily drawled, resting my hands on my hips.
            “I know when someone is judging me. I can read people with impeccable accuracy. You’re thinking this spoiled brat can’t even handle a simple insect. How will she handle Africa?
            “It is not an insect. It’s an arthropod,” I deadpanned.
            “So you’re a nerd then. Great, glad we’ve established that,” she bit sarcastically.
            I narrowed my eyes. “Yes.”
            “What?”
            “Yes, I was thinking that you were a spoiled brat who won’t last two seconds here.”
            Her eyes widened at my candid response. She was taken aback, obviously unused to people calling her out. Her mouth gaped open.
            “I’ll show you,” she threatened, but it lost steam by the last word.
            I rushed her in that moment and the movement stole her breath away, making my gut clench. I loomed over her and she fought to keep her mouth closed. Her full lips begged to be kissed and I clenched my jaw ashamed of my reaction. I turned my face away and took in her diamond bracelet. You know why she’s here. I turned back to her. “Girl, you are the epitome of spoiled. I can smell it in your expensive perfume, in the quality of your ridiculous clothing, in the bracelet wrapped ’round that delicate wrist.” I closed the gap between us and all the air sucked from the room. We were a volatile mix. “You won’t last out here. You’ll stay blind to the environment that surrounds you. You’ll live in your clean, perfect bubble and return to your posh life come six months. You are . . . you. I know your kind. I’ve seen it all before. You will never wake up. Not really,” I told her before backing up and leaving her.
            I stepped through my door embarrassed by my words, embarrassed by my physical reaction to her. I fell onto my bed, ashamed. When I heard her soft crying, my gut suffered for my words. I turned toward the wall we shared and made myself hear her. I needed the self-reproach. Finally, she lay in bed and the tears stopped, her breathing grew steady and I placed my hand on the wall near where I felt her head would be, aching to soothe her.