Bad Gyal Reputation

Za’miyah’s POV

“Za’miyah Knight!” Miss Bernard’s voice cut through the noise of the schoolyard like a whip.

I froze mid-step, spinning around to face my teacher. She stood with her arms folded, her sharp eyes fixed on me. Behind her, Danielle and her little clique of minions snickered.

“Yes, Miss?” I said sweetly, though my blood was boiling.

“You’ve been skipping math class again,” she said, her voice tight.

“Mistake, Miss,” I said, shrugging. “Maybe yuh need fi check di attendance sheet again.”

The snickering got louder, and I knew Danielle was enjoying this. The girl had been trying to embarrass me ever since I turned her down for her little party crew. I wasn’t about to stoop to her level.

Miss Bernard raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t press the issue. She sighed. “If I find out you’ve been lying, it’s a detention, Za’miyah. You can’t throw away your future.”

I nodded, but I didn’t miss the way Danielle rolled her eyes.

After Miss Bernard walked away, I turned to face Danielle fully. “Wah yuh seh? Yuh find that funny?”

“Big bad Za’miyah can’t even show up to class,” Danielle said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I took a step forward, my face inches from hers. “Watch yuh mouth, Danielle, before mi mek yuh regret it.”

She flinched, her bravado cracking for a second before she flipped her braids over her shoulder and walked away. Her friends followed, giggling nervously.

I wasn’t proud of my reputation, but sometimes you had to remind people not to test you.

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Zaire’s POV

She wasn’t like the other girls at the school. I’d been watching her for weeks now, curious about how she moved.

Today, she didn’t disappoint. The fire in her eyes when she shut down that girl made me smirk. She wasn’t just a survivor; she was a fighter.

“Boss,” Bishop said, tapping the steering wheel. “Yuh plan fi sit out here all day watching school gyal?”

I ignored him, my eyes still on her. She had no idea who I was or the world I came from. Part of me wanted to keep it that way.

“She’s different,” I said finally, more to myself than to Bishop.

“Different doesn’t mean good,” Bishop said.

He was probably right. But something about her pulled me in. Maybe it was the way she carried herself like she wasn’t afraid of anything. Maybe it was the fact that, for the first time in years, I felt something other than emptiness.

I leaned back in my seat, watching as she walked toward the school gate. I knew I shouldn’t get involved. I knew she’d never forgive me if she found out who I was.

But I couldn’t stop myself.

“Let’s go,” I said, snapping Bishop out of his lecture. “I’ll figure this out later.”

As the SUV pulled away, I took one last look at her. She didn’t know it yet, but her life was about to change. So was mine.

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