Page 215 of Not My Type
My heart skips a beat, then races, my chest tightening as everything around us fades out. It’s just him, just his voice, and the weight of those three words—mi love yuh. Damn..
60. BYE HAWAII
Nickoi
“Yuh drunk... a it mek yuh seh that?” She asks and I can’t help but chuckle at her assumption that everyone is a light head like her.
“Mi nuh drunk,” I laugh.
“Yuh just tell me yuh love me,” she’s still processing it. “Like you literally just tell mi yuh love me,” she repeats, eyes wide.
“I know what I said Zara,” It comes out monotonous.
“She still nuh believe it,” Gutta interjects, while Anna beams at us, savoring the moment.
“Mi know... mi just surprised,” she continues, her astonishment palpable.
“Ohh... mi surprise miself too mon,” I confess. I’ve been trying to tell her I love her for so long, but the words eluded me.
“Oh my God... if mi say mi over that mi a lie it drape me up,” she’s staring at me with her mouth slightly open. “Nickoi, I love you too.”
Gutta and Anna smile at us, while Zara continues to gaze at me in shock. I gently shake her, trying to pull her back to the present. “Mami?” I chuckle.
She glances at Gutta and Anna before looking back at me. “Damn... anyways, let’s enjoy the water a little more,” she dives back into the water.
We spent another half hour in the sea before we got out and join Gutta and Anna. They’re eating fish and festival that they ordered at a Jamaican restaurant here. Know wi cyaa lef out the yaadie food. It tastes a little different but it’s okay.
“We bought more food... see fi unuh food yer,” Anna points at the bag and I nod.
“Respect,” I sit, reaching for an orange juice and Zara takes up the food bag.
“Yuh know say a shaved ice mi want,” she says looking at me.
“Eat the food we can get that after wi lef yasso,” I say and a Caucasian man approaches us—more like Zara since his eyes are glued to her.
I stare at him. Sure, him can greet har enuh but mi a gwaan watch how him move wid har. “Aloha,” he greets, I learned that it was a popular way to greet people in Hawaii.
She smiles at him. “Hii,” she chirps. I keep my watchful eye on him, realizing he’s just being friendly, but mi nuh like the way him a look pon mi woman. White bwoy yah try watch it.
“Your melanin is so beautiful. I’m in love with it,” he rubs her hand.
Who him a touch? “Let her go,” It comes deadly. He gives me an apologetic smile.
“I’m just giving this beautiful lady a compliment.”
“Nuh touch har,” I warn. He nods, retracting his hand.
“Where are you from?” he inquires, still reaching toward her. I figure it’s my accent he’s curious about. Nah ina no long talking wid nuh man enuh. I stand.
“Step back from har nuh youth,” Gutta chimes in. He throws his hands up in surrender and backs away. “I’m gone,” his voice trembles, and we share a laugh at his expense.
“From mi see yuh get up, mi know yah get dawwwk enuh,” Gutta observes, and I chuckle.
“Him nuh listen, and a dat a people downfall nowadays enuh,” I sigh. Everyone I’ve encountered trouble with, past or present, it’s because dem nuh listen.
“A nuh lie,” Gutta concurs.
“Mi did kinda wah the likkle drama,” Anna chuckles.
