Page 62 of Not My Type
“Bwoy weh yuh deh go leff yuh nice nice woman?” she asks me. I’m in no mood to smile even though I really want to. Cas mi feel blessed fi have har.
“Mi a go deal with a cr— sup’m,” I sigh, repeating myself in a tone that speaks for itself.
It’s time to stop because I’m getting annoyed. Everyone knows it. Zara looks at me suspiciously. “Where are you going?”
“Mi soon come back,” I say, trying to avoid her question. I look at her face, searching for any sort of swelling.
I look back at my mom. “Micheal a guh bring yuh home so get ready,” she hisses her teeth.
“Bwoy mi tell yuh seh mi ready?” she asks pointedly.
Why is she trying to challenge me right now? “Mommy nuh bother with it,” I glare at her. She puffs her spliff ignoring me.
“Take me number nice girl so wi can chat more,” she grabs a paper and start scribbling. When she’s done, she walks out.
“Weh him deh Nickoi?” she calls from the front.
“Him a fawud,” I say to her.
Zara is looking at her phone and I can tell she’s upset. She vex wid yuh enuh. Mi know mon.
“Hey, mi soon come back,” I say as I observe her face.
Mi still a look fi swelling. Beside her left eye looks little dark. It has a slight swelling but it isn’t obvious. Watch mi and him.
“Mi nah take long... okay?” I smile, trying to cheer her up and distract myself from the swelling that her wasteman father cause. You ever hate yuh father-in-law dem.
“Zara?” I call, hoping she’ll look up at me but she doesn’t.
“Mi hear yuh,” she says with an attitude, still scrolling through Instagram. I find it cute. See how har attitude stink?
“Never see this side enuh,” a smirk curls on my lips.
Mi know mi probably a annoy har. In fact, I am annoying her. Her pout tells it all. She continues to scroll through her phone, ignoring me. It’s now 9 PM.
“By 9:30 yaw guh see me,” I promise. She mumbles something inaudible.
“The time you a chat you would a reach wherever,” she rolls her eyes. I chuckle softly then Gutta walks in.
“Micheal just fawud and gone with yuh big woman.”
“Ah.” I hug Zara from behind. She’s a little tense, that’s how I know she’s still in her little mood.
“Call me if you need anything,” I peck her cheek. She’s still scrolling. I chuckle to myself as I walk out with Gutta.
23. SPECIAL
NICKOI
We park at a corner where we can get a good view of everything. Gutta points out a man and I shake my head in disbelief. Issa rum head that enuh. Jah know.
After a few seconds of watching him, I’m sure it’s her father. The resemblance is striking. He isn’t old — just careless and doesn’t seem like a seasoned drunken
person. But, he’s getting there. He has a cup in his hand and a black kerchief tied around his head. By the looks of it he’s entertaining a group of people around him.
“A really him box mi woman?” I ask in disgust. The man is a mess. Mi know seh a him daughter but a my woman.
“A him man,” Gutta nods.
