Ruin

81

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AMANDA'S P. O. V.
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Wednesday: 7:05 A.M.
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"Yuh know say mi convinced say woman nuh know time."

Jesus, it's too early.

"Good Morning, Mr. Senior," I say above the sound of the seat belt fastening to the tongue, with a soft click.

He brings his eyes up to look at my face, narrowing them into a mischievous glare. "Yuh sure a still morning?"

If him never say sum'n snarky...

"Yuh extra eeh, Lucas?" I look at the time on my phone. "It's barely five minutes past seven."

"Still thirty-five minutes past the time I told you I was coming to pick you up, don't?"

Ano that, mi shoulda make yuh wait longer, after a you keep mi out yah mek mi go a mi bed so late, last night.

"Whatever," I mumble beneath my breath, turning to look through the window.

Regardless, he's right...but I won't admit that.

The engine roars to life just as Such Man says, his tone firm, "Mi soon know wah fi do fi fix tha attitude deh, nuh watch nuh face..."

Watchya!

Before I can give him a piece of my mind, my phone pings loudly in the silence, drawing my attention to it.

Upon unlocking the screen, with my fingerprint, I see that it's a WhatsApp message from Shane.

Kacka fart, mi figot fi tell him say mi a get ride, this morning eno.

A hope him nuh drive out yet...

I quickly click on the message drop-down bar and read what it says.

SHANE (Work): Gm. Ago pick up Moya first then circle yuh. That good?

I sigh, feeling a sense of relief seeing he hadn't come all the way this side for nothing. After all, I wouldn't want to put him out of his way like that.

Shane was a cool dude, yes, but even the coolest of cool would be annoyed if they had to drive all the way here, from Molynes-- wasting precious gas, and time, when a simple text could've prevented it. I know I would've been.

So, I try not to do to others what I wouldn't want for myself.

With a small smile playing on my lips, I quickly reply to his message.

ME: It's OK love. Getting a ride. 🫠

His response comes in just as quickly.

SHANE (Work): Ah, no say a word then. Later.

Yea...

Lucas chuckles, lowly, beside me, making me look at him. Particularly, at his fingers which flex repeatedly around the steering wheel. He doesn't say anything, but I can just tell he's itching to ask who I'm texting.

Matter-of-fact, I'm surprised he hadn't done so the moment my phone went off.

"It's Shane," I tell him before he asks--I know he will. Eventually. "I told you he's my ride until my car is fixed."

Mi know it burn him bad fi hear mi say so, but mi nuh care.

Goodly a boil deh now.

That thought makes me want to do it for the better.