Page 17 of Not My Type (Not My Type #1)

Zara

I pause, thinking of the best way to word my thoughts — it’s so much and I don’t want to say the wrong things. Heaving a sigh, I turn my eyes to the window for a second, just to breathe and allow my thoughts to flow...

“Take your time baby,” I hear Clova say.

About two seconds pass and my eyes are back on her. She’s adding a strip of escallion to her pot. That’s when I speak.

“So him a nuh really somebody you would a see me a deh with,” I start. I have to get that out there first and foremost.

“Woiiiie!” Clova exclaims. Seeing her this excited makes me laugh.

“Yes” I purse my lips, blushing uncontrollably, with my head tilted towards my shoulder.

“Nah lie, me never see you this head over heels before. Tell me more!” she climbs on the stool around the island. She is such a drama queen.

“ Yea so basically him wah me be him woman but mi tell him say mi ago think about it,” I tell her.

“And nuhn no wrong with that,” Clova adds.

“Mhm so there’s a few things that makes the decision kinda hard,” I sigh. She’s attentive, giving me her full attention.

“No pressure yourself, take your time man,” Clova advises.

“Yeah, me like him but mi know seh mi family nah go accept him,” She nods, seemingly in deep thoughts. Then I continue. “Mi know say he isn’t my type of man. Cause him in a next world while me inna mine.”

“And you like him regardless of that?”

“Yes,” I nod.

“So go for it then. Don’t make the mistake fi miss out pan a man you want because of family,” she tells me. I stare at the fruit rack before me in complete silence.

“Zara mek me tell you something. If you follow people you never reach no where in life or get what you want. So forget ‘bout wah dem a go think and focus pan wah you want. You want the man?” she asks, eyes piercing through me.

I look away from her intense stare. “Mi know it pointless fi worry about what others think but honestly mi just feel like mi family a guh give me a warm time.”

“Zara you want the man, me see it inna your eyes,” she states.

“Yea, I do,” I choke out.

“Mi say you can’t worry bout family. Once the man a push out effort and you know you want him, then go for it,” she tells me.

This is not going to be easy. “Just do wah me say man,” she adds.

It nah go be easy.

“Okay,” I breathe and stare at my phone. It’s still on do not disturb.

“Cheer up mon. You want help me cook?”

“Yeah,” I smile and get off the stool. She moves towards the stove. I lean against the counter and wash my hands. I’m feeling much better.

“Zara, dem always say every good girl need a little thug inna dem life enuh,” Clova mutters and I laugh.

“Chro,” I giggle.

I can’t believe I like the sound of that.

She hands me the fork, and I turn the chicken in the pot. The aroma of the curry tickles my nostrils. It’s satisfying. On the next burner, Clova is focusing on her white rice. It isn’t Jasmine but still smells amazing. An hour passes by in no time. Then I hear her niece’s voice behind me.

“The food smell nice Aunty Clova!” she blurts out and I turn to see her at the doorway.

“It done enuh,” Clova chuckles and she opens the fridge, taking out a true Hennessy. First seventeen-year-old I’ve seen who behaves like this—she acts and looks so old. Hold up. A hickey that pan har neck?

“Weh yuh get money fi buy Hennessy, Shanae?” Clova narrows her eyes at her.

Kaka now! The crazy girl in my head exclaims.

She smiles and Clova glares at her but by the looks of it. Clova already knows. “Mi tell yuh fi lef that man alone enuh, yuh nuh see him have him woman and mi sure know him nah lef har fi yuh,” Clova says to her angrily. She kisses her teeth.

Watch ya nuh! “After we nuh deh, a mi Ghee that though, whether or not him have him woman,” the seventeen-year-old girl says to her Aunt.

Raatid. Zara, you don’t even have this ‘mount a courage. It’d be handy in my current situation.

I’d be able to face my family — especially Mama and let her know I’m dating whoever I want, whether or not she likes it.

We haven’t had the conversation about Nickoi—as yet, but I know the type of guy she likes for me.

She loved Malik— such a gentleman, she’d say.

So yuh get the gist.

“Mi been down dem road deh before enuh so you can gwaan nuh listen to me,” Clova warns her. She chuckles.

“Aunty a wah do yuh?” She takes up the bottle of Hennessy and walks out and Clova and I look at each other.

I stay silent.

“Mek she gwaan,” Clova says before she fixes the plate and hand it to me.

“Thank you,” I’m all smiles. Curry chicken and rice! Who else is a fiend for this?

I beam radiantly at the plate before I look back at Clova. She’s just as eager to dive in the sizzling curry goodness. “This gwaan enuh!” I exclaim. Just the way it smells and the presentation makes it a ten. Nah lie’

“Mash mi bout fi mash this up,” she jokes and we laugh. She’s such a genuine person.

When I’m leaving, I give her a hug and quickly get in my Ontime taxi. I greet the driver and pull out my phone— doing nothing.

NICKOI “A weh you go get so much white gyal fam?” I ask the moment I step in the mansion. Skwash laughs.

“You know our style. All four yuh can lef with mi chaagie,” he grins.

“As a killa,” I chuckle and he repeats it.

“As a realll killa,” we laugh and knock our fists together.

The Caucasian vixens are shaking their asses together as they stare flirtatiously in the cameras— the killers on the other hand are vibing with their rifles.

We’re at his video shoot. I can’t stay long, but I promised I’d come through for an appearance.

After this, I have to attend the club opening.

He turns, calling over his team. When they approach me, I pull the black Kandura over my Dior outfit and wrap the turban around my head. Then I grab my Dracos.

I hop on the island and start my role. The videographer comes my way, and I slap a Hispanic girl’s ass as she grinds on me. I bite my lip and exhale the smoke through my nose just before lip synching to the line with the gun moving upwards.

“Heartless killas, 6ix boss roll wid, weh ah rob brinks truck and bruk bank,” I bob my head.

The girls behind me glide their hands down my back sensually, while an Egyptian girl whispers incoherently in my ear. She’s dark skinned, reminding me of Zara.

Soon after that scene, we move around a table with laptops and count money on the bill counters. The lights flash, letting us know that Intermission has started. I remove the clothes and give him a heads up that I’m about to leave.

“Weh you mean man? Mi understand. Respect fi come true yuh yer dat Don Dadda?” he hands me a duffle bag. I take it.

“Nuh say a word six boss,” I retort. I leave after our talk, ignoring the ladies’ calls.

“You nuh wah mi set up a thing fi yuh!?” Skwash shouts from inside, referring to the girls.

Zara crosses my mind once again. I have enough issues already.

“No man, that good,” I tell him before I get inside my Benz.