Nairobi Dreaming - Complete!

Chapter 17: Secrets

After dinner Kay was eager to talk. She was all bright eyes and excitement and I knew why: Abigail had excused herself from dinner on account of an "upset stomach" and Kay had put two and two together. She wanted, as she put it "the tea".

I felt vaguely used. Of interest because of my proximity to gossip, not because Kay was inherently interested in me as a person. The same thoughts kept spinning through my mind on repeat, like a wheel wearing a groove deeper and deeper with each rotation: she doesn't know why I am here, why did she never ask? She doesn't care that I like James, she just wants him for herself. She hasn't even really thanked me for taking care of her back in Nairobi or ever acknowledged how much effort I have put into our friendship.

I wondered if this was going to be another dramatic inflection point: the moment when Kay and I parted ways? It felt like it might be. I was ready for it. It fit the mood of the day and if it happened I could go to sleep, cleansed, renewed, unburdened.

When we got to our room Arthur was there, but with headphones on. He was reading a thick leather bound book that he had balanced on his knees and didn't even look up to acknowledge our entrance.

We sat on the edge of my bed, Kay a ball of glittery energy, me, so lost in my own narrative that her excitement, instead of wearing off on me, only dampened me further. How was it possible that gossip should give her this much glee?

"SOOOO," Kay said.

She had her hands in her lap, she was leaning forward, eyes big. She looked like a doll, her mascara, lip gloss, foundation, bronzer, eye shadow, highlighter and eyeliner still somehow perfectly done even though we were at the end of a long, hot day. This annoyed me. Normally, I wouldn't dare think negative thoughts about how another woman chose to invest in her appearance; it was too loaded, too potentially misogynistic a path to go down but I slipped. This time I went all the way down the path. In this context, it was a signal that she cared about the wrong things - wasn't it? She had not bothered to learn anything about the place she was volunteering in but somehow her makeup hadn't budged? As someone who was never able to accomplish that, even with fairly expensive makeup I knew it wasn't accidental or easy. Where were her priorities?

My heart felt heavy.

"Are we friends?" I asked.

"Yeah, of course. Luisa," She laughed. "Why would you ask me that?"

I tried to read her expression, to see past the easy dismissal, but I got no sense that she was trying to cover anything up at all. She seemed genuinely surprised which in turn surprised me.

"You really don't have any idea?"

She drew back, hands pressed into her knees, reeling. "No, honestly? Should I?"

My gaze flickered to Arthur. I hoped he had actual music on and wasn't just wearing his ear phones to discourage being talked to.

"All the stuff with James," I said slowly. "I mean, you've been flirting with him. You went to his room in the middle of the night."

She frowned.

"Yeah, honestly, I thought he was fair game. But tell me if he isn't and I'll back right off."

"I really like him," I said. "I thought it was obvious."

"Not really. You didn't seem that into him after he turned you down but like I said, I think that's just who he is. I wouldn't take it personally."

I tried to think back all the moments that had irritated me, that had seemed so obviously hurtful and they seemed suddenly blurry. It was true, at the very least, that I had not said anything in the moment, that I had never bothered to make it crystal clear.