“Who are you?”
The lights flashed on and a woman holding a grocery bag stood in the apartment’s doorway.
Zyla could barely think, and as she looked at the woman her clothes grew too hot and the bag on her shoulder grew too heavy.
“We were just doing a routine inspection,” she heard herself say, in a voice an octave too low.
“With Ski Masks on,” the woman said.
If she’d been caught breaking into any other woman’s apartment Zyla wouldn’t have cared, but why’d it have to be hers. From the corner of her eye Zyla saw Tairey slip a bracelet off of the coffee table and into his pocket. Kentrell rolled his eyes.
The woman stepped back into the hallway, placed her groceries on the ground, and spoke again,“You have 30 seconds to leave my apartment or I’m calling the cops.”
Then she pulled out pepper spray and a taser, “Touch me and I’m fucking you up.”
Panting on the pavement Zyla tore off her mask and turned to Tairey, “You dumbass nigga why you ain’t tell me this was Nyah’s apartment.”
“What so I’m just supposed to know when a new spot belongs to some girl you like,” he said as he unlocked the car,“you got a new bitch every week.”
But she’d never had Nyah. She wasn’t used to women telling her no, but she’d been trying to get at her for weeks. The farthest she got, Nyah getting in the same elevator as her .
Kentrell came up behind them,“Y’all both need to shut the fuck up and get in the car before shawty calls the cops any fuckin ways.”
—-----------------------
9:00 am Monday morning Nyah dropped a folder on Zyla’s desk. Her nude nail polish complimented the dark blue logo on the company’s letterhead – Utopia Properties LLC. Zyla stiffened; she wasn’t usually on desk duty and she didn’t think she’d have to see her so soon.
“From management,” Nyah said curtly.
“What is it?” Zyla asked.
“Why don’t you read it?”
“When are you gonna drop this whole uppity thing,” Zyla said brushing a loc from her forehead and dropping her tone, “after all there’s only so many of us here we gotta stick together”
Nyah raised an eyebrow, “Stick together other huh, is that what you were doing when you grabbed my ass at the last potluck? I thought I was you know,” she raised a fist, “fighting the man when I decided not to report you, but maybe I should send that message to HR anyways.”
Beneath her desk, Zyla picked at her fingernails. Nyah was right and if she knew it was Zyla underneath the mask that night in her apartment…
“I’m sorry about that, I was tipsy and genuinely thought you were my date. Let me take you to get a coffee or sumn.”
“I’m good,” Nyah said, “just handle this.”
She hated to see Nyah leave, but had to admit she loved to watch her go.Thanks for reading A Babbling Brooks ! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.