Page 6 of Not My Type
*I miss you*
I read the message over and over before I dial my bestfriend’s number. “Gavin?” I say biting on the inside of my lip. Shuffles fill my ear, yet no response. Him extra essi. I roll my eyes.
“Yes Zara?” his voice finally floats through the line, sounding a bit muffled. Great. He knows why I’m calling.
“Malik text and say him miss me,” I say hesitantly.
Wait for it.. “Yuh sure you wah hear wah mi have fi say?” he asks and I face palm myself.
Not really.
Yuh know Gavin nuh fraid fi shame yuh.
“Yes, why’d I call?” I ask with an attitude.
“Block him Zara... block him,” Gavin deadpans.
A loud laughter left my throat. “Okay..” I trail off and gasp at what he says next.
“This nyam cratches bwoy eva deh mess up and expect yuh fi tek him back?” Jesus Gavin. Him don’t even do dem suhm deh. A faint sigh slips through my lips as I slightly press my palm against my cheek, staring at the call timer running.
“Look how yuh pretty, sexy and educated and him a fumble yuh? Mek a goodaz like you a cry every time, thinking that yuh nuh enough! Dash weh the dutty liyad drankro out a yuh life once and for all, him nuh deserve yuh!”
It hurts... but it’s facts.
Gavin is the type of person who has no idea of what it means to mince your words. He’s blunt and speaks with a sense of humor. So, when him open him mouth yuh jus affi laugh.
“Yea but he wanted to focus on medical school,” I say, trying to find an excuse for my ex-boyfriend who puts me last in everything.
Mek yuh nuh shut up??
“Weh mi say?!” his voice blaring. “Block him! Yuh know mi nuh fraid fi come round deh come block him fi you enuh likkle gyal!”
“Alright,” I mutter before I hang up.
I don’t listen, every word he says flies from one ear and exits through the next. I’m the type to ask you what to choose between two options, then go ahead and choose what I want.
That’s what I’m doing right now... I stare at his message for thehundredth time. My fingers impulsively tapping the words on the screen. With a deep breath, I hit send.
*I miss you too*
3. DIRT
Zara
This is a bad idea. I just know it. During my lunch break, Malik sent a text that he wanted us to meet in Spanish Town. He mentioned that he wanted to talk. I have no idea what it’s about, still, I quickly agreed to meet him after I’ve left school. That’s how I ended up in this situation. We’ve been seated in Cecil’s Restaurant for about five minutes now.
“... that’s it for your orders?” the waitress asks, her voice harsh. Wah do she?
“Yea, that’s it,” Malik nods, and that’s her cue to leave. My eyes follows her until she enters the kitchen.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” he says when my eyes find him. He looks great. Malik is a handsome guy, calm and sweet— when he wants to be. He has gleamy eyes, straight nose with thin lips. I’ve always admired his smile. My eyes drop to his attire— dark blue suit, paired with brown derby shoes. Instantly, my lips curls into a smile. Such a gentleman. My Type.
He’s in his final year at UWI, studying medicine. We met last year at a back-to-school giveaway that his father was hosting in my community.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I ask with a smile. “Afterall, I want to know why you came back after you were so focused on schoo–” He interrupts me.
“I’m finding the time now,” his tone sounds like another one of his classic lies. I narrow my eyes, trying to read him. Will he? My eyes turn to the window. I wonder why they choose to play Rihanna’s Take A Bow right now? I breathe out. He grabs my hands gently. “I love you... you know that
