Page 8 of The Rival in South Africa
I bristled. “No.”
“Sailing?” he inquired.
“No.”
“Whatareyou doing nowadays?” He steepled his fingers together.
I smiled. “Absolutely nothing.”
“Aw, that’s no fun.”
“No, it isn’t.”
He blinked at me before changing the topic. “You and Ion broke up.”
“Yes.”
“He seems to be doing pretty well now.”
Ugh. Just. Ugh. Sure, Ion and I had split up amicably, but Alex had always been so sure that Ion and I weren’t right for each other. They’d never gotten along, with Alex leaving passive-aggressive comments on Ion’s Instagram.
Looks like quite the party.
#partyboy
I hope Nikki’s having fun with you.
Ion tended to just laugh them off. But he didn’t know Alex well enough to hear that smug tone.
“I saw that video that went viral,” Alex continued.
I knew exactly the one he was talking about. It was behind the scenes at a nude photo shoot. Ion was laughing, drinking whatmightbe water, and his arse was on display. And it wasspectacular.
Sure, we broke up, but for Pete’s sake, I dated a model. I was allowed to miss his ass.
I wanted so badly to brag to Alex about my hand in Ion’s career, but I kept my mouth shut. He’d either mock my hard work or, worse, become interested in it.
“Alex, you’re just here to keep my mother happy. Enjoy the free trip, and keep your nose out of my business.”
He tutted. “That’s no way to speak to your travel buddy. We’re going to be together twenty-four-seven for the next week. Let’s at least try to make it civil.”
Our section was called over the intercom, and I slung my backpack back onto my shoulders. “We can be completely civil, Alex.” And I cut him a smile, as sweet as I could make it.
* * *
The Kruger Mpumalanga International Airportwas tiny, completely outdoors, and surrounded by the scrub brush typical of the region. It was early afternoon when we landed, and our driver was easy to find—he held up a sign with my name on it. He introduced himself as Riaan and loaded our bags as Alex and I settled into the back seat of an open-air Jeep for the drive to the lodge.
The air was arid and warm, the bushes around us mostly devoid of leaves. It was approaching the dry season here, the best time to explore Kruger Park on account of the animals not being able to hide in the bushes. Watering holes, too, were few, and the animals tended to congregate there.
It was winter in the southern hemisphere, and while warm, it wasn’t uncomfortable. The drive was pleasant, and Riaan chatted over his shoulder, telling us all kinds of information about the park.
Alex peppered him with questions, mostly things I already knew: Kruger Park was the largest park in Africa, we were practically guaranteed to see the big five—elephants, lions, leopards, rhinoceroses, and cape buffaloes—and when Riaan mentioned speaking four languages, Alex begged him to teach us a few words in Afrikaans or Xitsonga, the local languages.
I watched Alex, bemused. Since we left school for different unis, most of our interactions had been around parties or our mutual friends or, as of late, our parents. I don’t recall ever having seen this side of Alex, chumming with locals and putting that brain of his to good use.
I hid a smile behind my hand as Riaan taught him some slang and Alex fumbled with the pronunciation. Though I didn’t enjoy spending time with Alex, and I have no idea why he agreed to come on this trip, his enthusiasm was contagious.
As the landscape passed by, my mind wandered back to the task at hand. We were drawing closer to the camp, and it struck me how remote we were. I ran over my packing list again in my head, praying that I hadn’t forgotten anything critical. I wasn’t alone in the physical sense, with Alex here beside me, but the added pressure of having Alex on this trip and of trying to stun the resort with my work at the same time was building butterflies up in my stomach.
