She gasps quietly, almost like something just clicked into place.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I say softly, but firmly.
“Um… I-I was in a relationship with him. I mean Jordane, and I… I…” Her voice crumbles again and my chest tightens. I know this feeling. I’ve been there, wanting to speak but afraid, not knowing where to start.
“You’re pregnant,” I say gently, making it easier for her to admit it.
“Y-yes,” she nods as the tears come faster.
“Is Jordane gonna help?” I ask, though deep down I already know the answer.
She shrugs, still crying.
“Miss, I don’t know. I’ve been calling him, and it seem like him block me. His girlfriend fight me off with her friends, and mi never know him have her. Now, from mi mother hear about it, she just a beat me. But miss, mi just want to see him because mi want him fi tell me him a go support me. Mi mother a pree something else, and that’s why mi a try fi see him as fast as mi can.” It’s painful to hear her like this.
She doesn’t deserve this.
I sigh and take out my phone, dialing Jordane. He answers on the first ring.
“Zara,” I hear Nickoi’s voice instead.
“Jordane deh over our house?” I ask quickly.
“Yeah, him and him girl a have some issues, so him a gwan relax. Him deh inna the kitchen with the babies,” Nickoi responds.
“Nickoi, mi have his girlfriend,” I say, glancing over at Jania. She nods, silently giving me permission to continue. “She’s a student in my class… and she pregnant. His other girlfriend weh him live with fight her, and now her mom is mad at her. So mi a bring her there. She want fi talk to Jordane. She want to know if him willing fi help.”
“Jah Jah… alright, bring her,” Nickoi says after a pause.
I exhale deeply. “Okay,” I say, then hang up.
I start heading toward home, and Jania gently touches my arm.
“Sorry fi have you a drive up and down, Miss,” her voice trembling.
“No problem. I’m willing to help, Jania,” I tell her with a small smile.
“Thank you,” she looks down, her voice breaking into sobs.
“And if he doesn’t help… my husband and I can. Or I can,” I say firmly, squeezing her hand.
“Thank you, Miss,” she repeats, still crying. I turn the music up a little to break the silence as I drive. My body feels heavy now. I yawn deeply, fighting the tiredness. I continue on, passing a few cars in the other lane, and then my eyelids begin to droop. I blink hard.
I can’t stop now.
Why mi never just wait fi Gavin?
I hiss under my breath. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel.
Suddenly, I blink again and I’m too close to the car in front of me. My heart stops. I jerk the wheel, but it’s too late. Thecar clips the one ahead, and the impact sends us both swerving toward the soft shoulder. Screams fill the air, Jania’s, mine blending into the screech of tires and the terrible crunch of metal.
I see everything but nothing. I hear voices, but I can’t speak.
Mi swear wi dead.
I’m frozen, completely traumatized.
Oh God.
