Page 185 of Not My Type
commotion outside. I gasp, walking out behind the auxiliary staffs who are also rushing out.
“What’s happening?” They ask and I step out trying to see what’s happening for myself.
It’s a fight. I quickly walk towards the crowd trying to see what’s happening and gasp when I see Jordane on top of Mark. Jesus a wah this bout?! Children are cheering as they fight while teachers and other staff members are trying to stop them.
Jordane jumps, delivering a fierce kick to Mark, who stumbles back, only to be met with another blow.
Jesus is a Jackie Chang show dis! My subconscious gasps.
Jordane goes off — hitting Mark with uppercut after uppercut until blood starts streaming down his face. Mark tries to fight back, but it’s useless. Jordane’s moving like he’s trying to kill him, like he’s real-life trying to catch a body. He just keeps coming, fists flying, and there’s no stopping him. Mi wah stop them but the crowd too big and wild.
“Jordane!” I call out. A the only thing lef fi mi do at this point. And it nah go work to how Jordane heated right now. The teachers drag Jordane away from Mark and he grabs him again. Laad Gad.
I walk away, standing next to Mrs. Adams until a few male teachers finally got to pull away Jordane. “Watch how yah talk bout har!” his deep voice echoes Who?... Me?
My lips parted, wondering if I’m the reason why they are fighting. “Mi tell yuh about yuh mouth!” Mrs. Adams snaps at Mark.
Jordane points at him. “Yuh try thank God seh a me hear wah you say! Cas me bredda would a murda yuh brawlin!”
I approach Jor. “It’s okay... calm down,” I say to him and he nods walking away.
“Gwan like unuh too bad,” Mark mutters. Jor pulls away, I hold him back.
“Yow just watch out... like yuh wah mi buss off yuh throat!” Jordane says and I hold him. Jesus..
“Come mek we take a walk,” I say, with my arms around him.
After calming him down we got in the administration office where they both got a suspension letter from the dean of discipline. Mark got a extra 3 days. When the whole thing was over he had to apologize to me in front of his mother because she got here and slapped him across his face a couple times after cussing him out.
I nod at his apology. “Apology accepted.”
“Move with that bwoy!” Jor fans him off aggressively. I touch him.
“Stop,” Mrs. Adams coax. Him bold like Nickoi. Lawd.
“In front a yuh madda mi a tell yuh that bwoy... move wid that!” he repeats, his voice deep. I hold his hand.
“I’m sorry... he’s with me,” I apologize walking out with him. He’s too heated.
“Jordane you affi stop dem style deh,” I scold him. Hear big sis-in-law.
He breathes as he walks, he doesn’t answer me. I’m used to this wid him bredda. Speaking of bredda, I spot Nickoi at the gate.
“Wah happ’m?”
“It’s okay,” I say. This need fi stop right now.
“Nutt’n nuh okay the idiot bwoy mek mi nearly affi buss up him face and then them a suspend me but mi d’even care bout school,” Jor hisses.
Nickoi looks at me with a blank stare. “Wah him do?”
I sigh walking towards the car. “When I get home I’ll tell you, dem already deal with it,” I breathe. Why him so hotheaded?
He hisses. “Mi seh wah him do?”
“Bwoy a look har from when and mi nuh know wah happ’m but mi in a class and hear him a style har and mi affi just deal with him,” Jordane explains. I sigh. Mi nuh know why mi feel stress so.
Because you kno’ Nickoi a mad man inna clean clothes.
