The Unthinkable (Degrassi Fan Fiction)

Part 2

Fiona's POV

Summary: Fiona meets one of the friendly natives of Jamaica

Word Count: 1219

Author's Note:

Some of the dialogue in this part is exaggerated. It is based on patios (pa-twah), or Jamaican creole, which is the slang in which Jamaicans communicate. Some of the references in the story are of caribbean life. For example, 'Jerk Huts' are independently own lots that are used to distribute Jamaican food to beach goers. Certain terms are used by the influence of Jamaican culture. Also, Jamaica has a different exchange rate compared to the U.S., so 1600 Jamaican Dollars is probably 18 U.S. dollars. had an extremely hard time writing this part (I wrote it twice, actually), but had an easy time writing the cultural references, for I myself, am Jamaican. Please give feedback on this part, and spew some good ideas out there for me, Thanks. ~ Ciao

As I followed Declan to the beach, I could feel the sand burning underneath my feet, as I tried to carefully tiptoe and find cool points in which to walk on. The humidity and the intensity of the sun was all too real for me. I could barely see. In the distance, I could see beach umbrellas and people, congregated at the beach. Declan and I found a safe spot on the beach, which was not as crowded as I had expected. I laid my beach towel on the sand, exposing me and my blue bikini. While putting my sunglasses on, I laid back on the towel, trying to accumulate enough melanin to produce a decent tan.

“Fi, is that all you're gonna do here?” asked Declan, who was heading over to the sea shore to enjoy the water. I didn't respond, hoping I could block out all the noises in my environment, which was indeed hard. I felt the sun toasting my skin, hoping I could at least look a little golden when finished. Declan had already gone into the water, so I was alone, by myself on the towel, when I started to hear foot steps coming my way. Along side the footsteps were the sounds of kids, more like teenagers, running through the beach. A wad of sand was spewed at me and my towel, which came from one of the kid's feet. Instinctively, I was prepared to cuss the teenagers out, but stopped when I saw her; a slim girl, medium height, seeming to look around my age.

“Sarry', miss!” she yelled, while continuing to chase one of her friends down the beach. I was struck by the girl's natural beauty. Before the blink of an eye, she was gone. Hopefully, I would like to have seen her again. I got up to brush the sand out of my hair, walking over to the water to wash it off. I joined Declan, who seemed to be already making lady friends. He always seemed to have been a charming one.

“Hey Declan.” I said, looking over at his friend. “Who's your friend?”

He glanced over at me, trying to indicate that I was interrupting something.

“Hi, Fi. This is Shanice. Shanice, meet my twin, Fiona.” Shanice waved at me, attempting to be friendly.

“Fi, why don't you go back to your tanning mantra?” Declan suggested, trying to wave me off. “There's a hut over there, you can order some food.” He shooed me off. Surprised by Declan's attitude, I grabbed my towel and shuffled over to the hut, interested in tasting organic Jamaican cuisine. I joined the line, and felt an instant wave of stares coming from all directions. Men eyeing me up and down like I was some meat to them. I felt utterly uncomfortable, but was glad I had my towel covering part of me. Before I could fully process my surroundings, it was my turn to order. The hut owner, was bulky, with a this prickly mustache as if he hadn't shaved for days.

“Hi, I would like – Jerk Chicken, and uh, Festival?” I said slowly, observing the poorly drawn menu. The hut owner squinted his eyes as if he was being impatient, but went to the containers, scooping out the chicken and festival dumpling. He handed the food to me in a styrofoam container.

“Dat a'be, sixteen-hundred.” Before I could properly pull out my cash, a girl called the hut owner out.

“Links! Usually that a cost seven hundred. What'ya gwaan wit? Let me pay.” The hut owner, Links, became frustrated, but accepted the girl's money. I stared my usual blank stare, which could be taken as a rude gesture. When the girl had finished order, I came up to her. When I made eye contact with her, I then realized it was the slim girl I had encountered earlier, who was chasing her friends down the beach.

“You didn't have to pay for me.”

“A true, but Links like fi charge foreigner like you. Dat's how dem dweet.” she said, with a heavy Jamaican accent. I continued to blankly stare at her, as if she was a ghost.

“Come, sidung.” she suggested, pointing over to the shade in the grass. I hesitated, but did as she said, sitting next to the girl.

“So, wey you cum fram?” she asked, while eating. She sat criss-cross, facing me. I wasn't use to such friendliness of such sort. “Yu 'merican girl, right?”

“Yes and No.” I replied, explaining that I use to go live in New York but go to school in Toronto. She had brown skin, and light brown eyes, with an intense stare. Her hair was long and kinky, but was caught up in one. “I guess you're from here, right?”

“Ya mon. Mi go to school in a St. Catherine, but them put us pon break.” she paused. “When yu mean school, yu mean tertiary school. . . university or sumtin?” she asked. Not knowing what that meant, I continued the conversation.

“I don't know what that means, but I go to high school.”

“Tertiary school is dem university and college sinting. Mi go to secondary school ar high school like you a call it.” she explained.

“What's you're name?”

“Kalifa. Call me Kali fa shart.”

“Well, I'm Fiona.” I said, attempting to shake hands with Kalifa. I later learned Kalifa was the same age as me, but my birthday was much later. We talked for what felt like hours, until Kalifa got quiet.

“Ahright, later tonight a few of mi friends and I gaan to sum party in a Portmore. Yu waan fi come?”

I pondered on it. The thought of just coming to Jamaica but already being invited to a party.

“I don't know what my mother would think of it,”

“In a matter if yu na waan go, yu know ha fi go but --”

“I'll go.” I agreed, hoping my mother wouldn't mind me making friends in this foreign city.

“Ahright, where yu staying?” she asked much more clearer than before.

“The hotel a couple blocks down. It's called the Riu?”

“Ya mon, mi know where dat is. Irie. We'll be waiting outside, so look out for a van in deh lot in a owah.” she said, getting ready to leave. I started to search for Declan, so I could hurry back to my hotel.