“One minute you blowin’ up my phone at two a.m., next minute you ghostin’ like I’m just some groupie.”
“I never said you were a groupie.”
“Nah, you don’t say anything. You just treat me like one.” She paused, then added, “You selfish, Zay. Always been.”
He threw his head down and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Then why you keep coming back?”
There was a silence. That was when it hit him. That was exactly the problem.
Before she could answer him, he hit the red button, disconnecting the call.
He stared at the phone in his hand for a long moment. Guilt crawled under his skin like an itch he couldn’t scratch. His mind drifted back to Detroit. To Princess. To the way her voice cracked when she said she had to bleed to teach him how to love. That was never what he intended.
He sat there a moment longer, still replaying that whole day, until he decided he had to say something. He needed to clear the air between them in order to get any peace. He lifted his phone and scrolled to her number he’d asked Kam to get for him through someone on set weeks ago. He typed out a text.
Zay:
Can we talk?
The typing bubble appeared after a few minutes.
Princess (Love T.):
Umm…who is this?
Zay:
My bad, this is Zay.
Princess (Love T.):
How you get my number?
Zay:
It ain’t hard to find. We work together, remember?
A bubble with three dots flashed on the screen, appearing and reappearing a few times before the next message came through.
Princess (Love T.):
Oh yeah. Well…whats up?
He stared at the screen. His lips pressed into a tight line.
Zay:
I just want to talk. Nothin’ really is up. Just… talk.
Princess (Love T.):
Talk about what?
He didn’t respond right away. Then he typed slowly and carefully.
Zay:
Shit was kinda crazy the other day in Detroit. I just don’t want it to be weird between us at work. That’s all.
