Aloe had sat next to her and taken her hand, a gesture she was recognizing as his way of reminding her that he was still there, that they were still connected. “It’s no problem,” he said, bending his head so he could meet her eyes, then giving her a warm grin. “I still like you.”
Bitter snorted. “Even after how I treated your friend?”
Aloe shrugged. “Me, I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I definitely owe a few people some apologies.”
“For true? What was the worst thing you did?”
Aloe winced. “I cheated on this guy.”
“Mm, I’ve been there.”
“With his sister.”
Bitter choked back a laugh. “Okay, I haven’t been there! Did he find out?”
“Oh yes.” Aloe looked embarrassed. “Walked in on us. She didn’t even know I was dating him.”
This time Bitter couldn’t hold back her giggles. “I’m sorry, that’s terrible!”
“Laugh at my pain—it’s fine.” Aloe winked at her. “All I’m saying is, it’s not too late to fix things with Eddie. I think both of you are so special, I want you to see each other better.”
Bitter shook her head. “You really does want world peace and for everyone to get along.”
Aloe leaned in and kissed her gently. “Yes,” he said, his voice confident. “And that’s why you like me.” They’d tumbled back into his bed, and Bitter had honestly thought the conversation was over. A couple of days passed, and she was sketching in the Eucalyptus garden, listening while Aloe was playing around on a guitar.
“Eddie’s coming by tomorrow,” he’d said casually, as if it was nothing. “I figured we could show her some of your art and then sit down and talk. What do you think?” He looked up at her, all helpful and innocent and well meaning, and although Bitter really wanted to cuss him out for making plans without her, she also knew it meant a lot to him for her to at least try with Eddie, so she just smiled tightly instead and said it was fine. He knew she would’ve said no if he asked, and it was just like him to count on her forgiving him rather than asking her for permission. For someone so sweet, Aloe could be equally sneaky.
Now Bitter was pacing in her room, tugging on her bedspread to smooth it out because the idea of Eddie seeing her space in any state other than controlled and perfect was more than she could stand.
“Why can’t we meet somewhere neutral?” she’d complained to Aloe.
“Why can’t you paint in a studio like everyone else?” he’d shot back.
“My room is my studio.”
“Exactly. You’re lucky Miss Virtue was nice enough to even give you that much space. I mean, we can go somewhere else, if you want to carry your work over there as well.”
“I doh understand why I have to show her my work,” Bitter grouched. “You very annoying with your peacemaker business.”
“It’s the best way for her to see what you’re really about,” Aloe had replied.
“Yeh? And what she going to show me in return?”
He’d gone serious then, looking at her with those eyes of his. “From what I know of what went down, I’d say her heart, if you’re lucky,” he’d said, and if anyone else had said that, it would have been corny as hell, but Aloe was so damn earnest that Bitter had no comeback. Although he wasn’t judging, he seemed to know as well as she did that this whole matter rested on Eddie extending some grace that Bitter herself wasn’t sure she deserved.
She still had a memory of the last time she’d been alone with Eddie, off campus at Eddie’s parents’ house. They were out at work and Eddie had snuck Bitter upstairs, where they’d spent the afternoon making out and playing around in her bed, clothes dropping off in degrees, laughing the way they did when they weren’t fighting over how they chose to move through the world.
Afterwards, Bitter had slid out of bed while Eddie was sleeping and grabbed her clothes from the floor, a dull weight in her chest. It had seemed like the perfect moment to leave, in the gentle light of an afterglow, before it all inevitably went to shit. She’d given Eddie one last look before she tiptoed out of the door, and that last image had been seared onto the back of her eyes—Eddie sprawled out on lavender sheets, her braids sea green with gold cowries at the tips, her lips parted in her sleep. Bitter never called her again and never told her why she’d left like that. She hadn’t told Aloe either. It stayed inside her, deliberately lost, and even though Aloe had the best intentions, Bitter was terrified of what this conversation was going to bring up. It had been so much easier to let Eddie hate her.
“Bitter? We’re here!” Aloe’s voice came cheerfully through the door as he knocked and pushed it open. Bitter spun around, her heart pounding in her chest. She’d never let Eddie come on campus back then. It was bad enough she was messing around with an Assata kid—she didn’t need the rest of the school to know. Which meant Eddie had never seen her room, never stepped into her world, and now Aloe was waltzing her in here as if it was nothing. Bitter shoved her hands into the pockets of her overalls and tried to look nonchalant. Eddie came in behind Aloe, wearing a bright yellow romper, her braids twisted up into two large buns. She looked around Bitter’s room: the large windows, the easels and drop cloths, Bitter’s bed in a corner with an excessive number of pillows on it, the gray armchair pushed to the wall.
“Nice place,” Eddie said politely, her eyes hidden behind round sunglasses. Aloe reached out and snatched the glasses off her face, holding them out of reach when Eddie lunged to get them back.
“Come on,” he said. “You said you’d try.”
The scab had fallen off the cut on Eddie’s eyebrow, but there was a scar there, and it made Bitter uncomfortable, reminding her too much of what being on the front lines meant.
“Fine,” Eddie snapped, glaring at Aloe, then swinging her gaze over to Bitter. “Look, your boy wants us to kiss and make up or whatever.”
“That is not what I said!” Aloe protested.
“Whatever, Aloe.” Eddie shrugged and gave Bitter a challenging look. “So now what? You gon’ apologize for ghosting me or what?”
Embarrassment washed over Bitter in a hot wave. She hadn’t been expecting Eddie to get so direct so quickly, especially with Aloe there. “It was complicated,” she started to say, but Eddie kissed her teeth and held her hand out to Aloe.
“That’s bullshit. Give me my glasses back, man. I’m out.”
“Eddie. You said you’d try.” Aloe’s voice was calm, and it seemed to irritate Eddie as much as it did Bitter sometimes.
“I am trying! Your girl, on the other hand—”
Bitter couldn’t resist snapping at her. “I have a name, you know.”
Eddie stopped short, about three seconds away from losing her temper, and Aloe stepped in between them quickly.
“Okay, wait,” he said. “Bitter, do you agree that you owe Eddie an apology?”
It was a sour idea to her—none of this was supposed to have gotten this far. What happened to the good old days when you could just ghost in peace and the other person got the message and there weren’t any hurt feelings to have to clean up later? She huffed out a breath.