Page 22 of Not My Type
“Thanks Gavin.” He hands me the soup and I take it carefully.
It’s spicy. I rub my nose with my eyes on him. “Thank you,” I tell him. He shares out soup for himself and another for his sister.
“Gwan go sit somewhere,” he tells us and Sash holds my hand and leads me inside. The house is not a mansion but it’s big. I notice that a part of it is unfinished.
“A yuh boyfriend house or a fi him uncle?” I’m curious. She sips the soup. I wait as she eats her chicken foot.
“You know say, him live yer with him family and them a extend the place,” she explains.
“Ohh,” the dumpling half way in my mouth. “A who cook it?” She shrugs.That’s my cue to throw it to one of their hungry belly dogs. She’s too silent. Not our usual Sash. I guess she’s grieving or something, probably had a good relationship with the man.
“Mi think a mi first time a come yer so enuh,” I mutter. We’re at Johns Road. Imagine, it’s so close to my home and it’s my first time being here. Just to show how much of a homebody I am. I’ve never had a reason to be here anyways. Plus, it’s a hot spot, and mi nah talk bout wireless signal for internet. I heard that they even have a Don, but I’m not sure how true it is— neither am I interested to probe about it.
Sash is still awfully quiet. I observe her. She’s glaring at someone. I follow her stare and spot a stout girl with jumbo braids staring back at Sash. She’s dressed in a very short dress with a pair of Bridgets. She couldn’t wash har toe dem? Nosaaah. I feel the tension. “What’s wrong?”
“Mi nuh know enuh, a deh gyal deh mi wah know why she a look pan mi so fah,” Sash rolls her neck.
“No pay her no mind,” I try to calm her and the girl approaches us.
“A wah?” her voice growls over the loud music. Sash springs up in heat.“A wah mek yaw watch me, a wah... you a the gyal Marko deh fool round with!?” She asks and I just stand next to her.
I don’t know what’s going on here, I don’t even know who Marko is. Sounds like her boyfriend though.Yuh mean the two of them boyfriend, my subconscious corrects me.
The girl chuckles. “A me Marko love enuh bitch and yuh keep on a run in so mi come fi beat yuh” she says surprising me. Bitch? And beat who? Cya nice clean Sash. I hate drama but there’s no way this girl is going to disrespect my cousin like this. There’s no way.
“Bitch like you and yuh maddaaa!” Sash points in her face. I hold her wrist, and step forward.
“Beat who? Yuh cyaa’ beat har enuh,” I warn, just in time to see Gavin there.
“Hello miss if yuh love yuh likkle life yuh walk weh from dem! If not you touch a hair pon mi sister or mi cuz’n,” Gavin is so close to the girl that she’s visibly intimidated.
“Come out a mi face,” she says in a mellow tone and Sash starts laughing then she taunts her. “Think yuh did bad!”
“Mek it rest Sash,” Gavin sighs. The girl glares at us before she walks away. Then Sash suddenly storms off across the road, causing us to follow her. She walks up to a tall man and starts arguing with him. He’s dressed in a black hoodie and denim shorts, with a brown pair of desert Clarks. That must be Marko. He’s definitely a scammer. He leans on his black Mark X and Gavin rolls his eyes.
“Mi hate the dutty bwoy,” he whispers to me.
“A har man that?” my brows up, judging him. Yuh must stop that! my subconscious scolds me.
“Yes mi dear, scammer she want,” he walks away. I follow closebehind.
“Mi want a decent man,” I tell Gavin and he nods. The bad man weh yuh did a admire today decent? Even a get horny for him, I ignore my subconscious.
“Mi a go finish serve the soup you a come?” he questions but my phone starts ringing. I look at him and shake my head.
“I’ll be here, mi affi take this call,” I walk over to a corner. It’s probably Malik.
“You a call me on private number now!?” I was disappointed when I realized it was him, even though I had very much expected it to be.
“You wouldn’t answer if you saw my number,” he says and I roll my eyes.
“Glad yuh know. Wah yuh want?” I ask impatiently, dying to hang up “I want to fix things,” he says and I laugh. He’s hilarious.
“Start with your obnoxious self,” I snap.
“Ouch, I’m working on myself and I’m trying to work on us too,” he tries. Uh-uh. Get somebody else to do it.
“You’ll never change. Don’t call back mi phone, yuh sick mi stomach!” I hang up. As I stare into the dark with my arms cross, I feel my blood boiling. It’s crazy actually. Tears prick at my eyes, because something deep down inside me still wanted him... but I knew he isn’t going to change. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. The men I date are always like this; obnoxious and selfish.
