Page 5 of Not My Type
“The drive nuh reach yet?” Mommy asks.
“All now,” I breathe out frustrated, desperately wanting to escape this tense predicament. I pout my lips as my eyebrows knit together, gazing at the lingering traffic. I’m just in time to see a middle-aged driver admiring me. Malik always teases me about how cute I look when I’m mad at him. So, I understand.
You always do,the girl in my head exhales.
I look back at mommy. She too, is staring with a glint in her eyes. “See how yuh pretty?” she chuckles and softly says. “Mi one belly pain mon.” I smile and look at the car again. He’s still staring. My eyes dart back to her. Jesus him dry yiy. “Push in yuh lip, the driver soon come mon,” she teases. I look away, blushing, not because of mommy and shift my weight to my next leg. “Anyways when yuh get home mi wan’ talk to mi madda,” Mommy speaks again.
“Yeah,” I nod and she blew me a kiss. The call disconnected right after.
“Zara?” I hear my name and I look around. I realize it’s Gary and offer a smile. He’s a family friend— probably in his early thirties.
“Hey Gary,” I softly greet, trying to focus on him and not that black Benz.
“Yuh start teach now?” he’s making me uncomfortable, dragging his eyes all the way down to the platform loafers on my feet.
“Trainee teacher,” I choke out. The black Benz pulls off. The wheels skid. I jerk back as it moves off dangerously fast.
“Machine deh sound good!” A random man exclaims, walking out in the road. Students on the sidewalks, vendors—basically, everyone with eyes are staring at it appearing smaller and smaller in seconds.
“Yoooo!” Gary exclaims. “Ah eh’ Don that?”
Den if mi is a man, mi coulda’ really make another man impress m—
It clicks. Don?
“A him yes! The man set up the car good! Sound like Spaceship!” One vendor blurts out. I look away, not wanting to hear them babble about that car any longer. Something about that person gives me the creeps.
One eternity later and my Ontime taxi finally arrives. I couldn’t be happier. I tell Gary goodbye and get inside. When I get to Homestead, I pay my fare and slowly walk over to my house. Mama walks out of herroom. Her short silvery hair is combed to the back as she rocks her signature look. Baggy blouse, loose ankle length skirt, and socks. Sometimes house slippers.
Mama is a beautiful woman and a very confident one too. Everyday she brags about how the men in her time went crazy over her. She used to bother Grandpa too. Before he died, she’d make it her duty everyday to say, ‘You is a lucky man enuh Mass John, you member how yuh wife used to sweep every man off a em’ feet?’ He would just laugh. Member she ask yuh sup’m.
“It was good enuh Mama, the students dem rude though, majority of them,” I plop down in the sofa.
“You affi expect that,” she sits beside me.
“Yes, it was good otherwise.” I pull out my phone and dial my mother. She answers on the first ring.
“You reach home?” is the first thing she asks and I laugh.
“Yes mommy, see yuh mother here,” I smile and hand the phone to my grandma. Like the lady time me.
“How foreign a treat yuh mi one gyal?” I hear Mama say as I walk to my room. I click the light on— illuminating my spotless, floral scented room.
“In yer a furnace mon,” I mutter to myself. Quickly, I turn the fan on, and push my sliding windows open. My queen-sized bed is situated in the middle of the room, sandwiched by my nightstand and my white fur arm chair. My flat screen is mounted on the wall facing my bed— my built-in closet is adjacent to my dresser. But that’s about it. It isn’t luxurious by any means, but it’s very comfortable. I climb on my bed, directly in front of the fan with my mind on my day— I mean, Jordane’s father.
Why was he staring at me so hard? I can’t help but wonder. I shake my head and saunter to the bathroom as soon as I cool off. I take a long, well-deserved shower. Once I’m out, I slide into my silk two-piece pajama set, now tying a bow on my bonnet. Was the Don actual—
I stop. The tremor I feel between my thighs lands me on my bed. It isn’t my first time experiencing that... but something else is. I sit on my legs, my palm slapped to my lips, staring at that girl in my mirror. Do I even know her? I can’t even bring myself to admit the source of that heartbeat down there. My thoughts then slip through my lips.
“Zara... don’t even think about it,” I giggle in disbelief. Exactly five minutes roll by and I finally climb off the bed. I plug in my earbuds vibing to Sza as I leisurely prepare my uniform for tomorrow and organize my already spick and span room. You must have OCD.
No... I just needed a distraction.
I smile and get my dinner right after. Sizzling, saucy butter chicken. Spicy just how I like it with fufu and a bottle of Fiji water. My plate is perfectly clean in no time, my hands messy. I take a swig of my water and head to the kitchen to find my father washing the dishes.Wow. That’s a first.
I move around him to use the left side of the sink then he exhales. “Just put down the plate Zara,” I do as he says and stroll back to my room. As a sophisticated hot gyal, I have to brush my teeth before I go to bed. Mouth fresh, coochie clean. I climb in my bed, ready to sleep. My phone starts vibrating. Chro! I unlock the phone quickly and gasp when I read Malik’s text.
Never Again.
