The Single Life with Zola Patterson Part 2 - Danielle Allen Page 0,42
that makes two of us. So, you need to leave. I’m Zola’s neighbor. A couple of my fellow officers live in that building over there.” He pointed toward the other end of the parking lot. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he took a picture of Cam’s license plate. “And now that I have your information, I’m sure we won’t have any problems with you returning.”
Cameron looked at me. “Zola?”
“Don’t Zola me,” I rebuked with my lip curled in disgust. “You are not welcome here Cameron Crawford. Do not come back.”
He shook his head. “It didn’t have to be like this, Zola.”
“Goodbye.”
“All right, move it along,” Darius commanded, shooing him away.
With one last look, Cameron shook his head and then left the premises.
I stood stoically as I watched Cameron’s car leave, still a little in disbelief.
“You okay?” Darius asked.
“Yeah.” I shook it off and made eye contact with him. “Yeah, I am now. Thank you.”
“What was that all about?”
I shook my head. “I broke things off and he lost his mind.”
“Had I known I would’ve come over earlier, but I thought he was one of your customers trying to get his forty dollars back.”
The unexpected dig caught me off guard and I snorted, “What?”
He chuckled lightly. “I thought he was asking for a refund. For five minutes I thought you were negotiating a refund for ass.”
“You know what…” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “For five minutes I thought you were a decent human being.”
He smirked.
I studied him for a moment. “Are you a cop for real?” I wondered.
“Hell nah.”
I laughed loudly.
“I’m an over-the-road truck driver, but due to an accident that wasn’t my fault, I’m on paid leave,” he continued. “But telling him I’m a truck driver wouldn’t have stopped him from coming back. Now that he thinks I’m police, you should be good.”
“I hope so. I have enough on my plate and don’t need to deal with his bullshit.”
“The only person’s bullshit you ever have to deal with is your own.”
“This is true.” I put my hands together as if I were praying. “So again, thank you.”
“I got your back. You get on my nerves, but you’re funny. Not many people can go back and forth with the jokes. And besides, what kind of man would I be if I sat back and watched some polo wearing muthafucka come over here and manhandle you?”
I nodded. “You’d be surprised. A lot of men wouldn’t have gotten involved.”
“I’m not most men.”
“Thanks again, though. Really.” I started heading toward my loft and he continued down the sidewalk to his. “I appreciate it.”
“I’ll talk shit about you all day, but I’m not about to sit back and let shit happen to you.”
“Same here.” I flashed him an appreciative smile. “Take it easy, Darius.”
“I would tell you to take it easy, but for forty bucks I guess you take it however they pay you to take it,” he joked.
“I don’t sell ass; I sell advice.”
“Well what kind of advice would you give to someone who knew their neighbor was for the streets?”
I folded my arms. “I would suggest that the neighbor worried about himself. Because the reason his girl hates his guts isn’t because he’s nosey and always at home. She hates his guts because he can’t reach hers?”
“There you go with the little dick jokes.”
I shrugged as I opened my door. “And there you go with the little dick.” Snickering, I slammed my door behind me.
The entire ordeal that happened threw me off and I needed to drink some tea and calm my nerves. I didn’t have the energy to deal with anyone else’s emotions. As I went back and forth between what I wanted to do, what I should do, and what actually happened, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Darius said.
The only person’s bullshit you ever have to deal with is your own.
“I need to write this out,” I murmured under my breath as I headed to my office.
Heaven Leigh: I have it. I’ll be at the studio with my sister until you can get here.
Zola Patterson: Thank you so much! I’ll text you when I’m on the way.
Heaven Leigh: See you soon!
I didn’t journal often, but when I did, I got into a zone. It wasn’t until my phone rang that I saw that I’d gone through six pages of thoughts and feelings.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hey beautiful,” Jordan greeted me. “I’m just leaving campus now and I’m heading home to change. If you shoot me your address, I