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She entered Vee’s room with a mellow expression. She moved to the center, every step purposeful and swift, and looked back and forth until she spotted something to clean. Her shelves were looking dusty. That would be a good start.
A voice in the room called out to her, then continued on with their sentence in that typical suave tone of theirs. What was once music to her ears had become nearly indistinguishable from the rest of the noise the room exhibited, whatever that may be. In her trance, Tisha was deaf to it all. What mattered were the shelves that she needed to clean. Thank goodness she brought her spare feather duster.
The motions were easy, practically baked into her DNA. Tisha moved her wrist left, then she moved it right, then she moved it left, and then she moved it right. She’d repeat it until the shelf was clean and then some, then she’d move onto the next piece of furniture that needed tidying. For once, she was thankful for the mess. Thankful that she had something to do. Thankful she could-
“Tisha.” A metal hand landed firm on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
She always tended to get startled by the unpredictable. When Tisha flinched and dropped her feather duster, the hand removed itself, and she spoke before its owner could apologize.
“Dusting. Just… dusting. Your room is really dusty, Vee. Someone has to clean it.”
From behind, Tisha could hear Vee’s metallic body shift its weight. It did not advance forward. “It’s unlike you to tidy up someone’s belongings without at least asking them to do it first.”
“You’re my girlfriend, Vee.” Tisha shrugged before kneeling down to grab her duster. “Maybe I wanted to make an exception for you.”
They both knew how flimsy an excuse that was, but Tisha prayed Vee would just let it rest. Unfortunately for her, the robot never knew when to quit.
“You barged into my room and didn’t even greet me. That’s also unlike you.”
“Vee-” An annoyed groan left her mouth harsher than she intended. “What are you trying to get from this?”
“Something’s the matter with you. What is it?”
She couldn’t describe why those words made her so upset. Perhaps it was the bluntness of which they were said. The obviousness of the statement. The immediate need for her to suddenly justify her emotions. Maybe it was everything. Maybe it was nothing at all.
Something’s the matter with her?
What wasn’t the matter with her?
Her body boiled with rage, but all it did was culminate into a pathetic: “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not?” Here she went with the rebuttals. Vee could never take a no, could she? “It’s not like keeping it bottled up is going to help. Dusting won’t solve your problems either.” What, did she think Tisha was stupid? That she didn’t already know that? “Brooning on it will only make it worse.”
Since when did Vee get so good with emotions anyway? Those words weren’t hers, and Tisha knew it. They were regurgitated from someone else, probably Brightney or Teagan, who told her those same things ages ago when she was in a rut. She didn’t need advice given to someone else. She needed…
She needed…
…
God, what did Tisha need?
The arm holding her feather duster drooped lamely to her side. It took her a few seconds to make her next move, but slowly, Tisha turned around and marched to the nearest sofa. Vee followed quickly behind her, and when she sat down, Tisha rested her head on her shoulder.
“I… I needed to talk to her again, Vee. I’m sorry.”
“Brusha?” The words hummed out from Vee’s speakers with a disdain that made Tisha’s heart ache.
“She’s been trying to get in touch with me for a while now. She sounded so desperate to talk, and I thought maybe… maybe she was ready.”
It took a while for Vee to load up a response - long enough for Tisha to dread the worst. Her stomach churned with anxiety, only subsiding when Vee put a protective arm around her shoulders.
Despite the reassurance, Tisha just couldn’t help herself. “I know you’re disappointed in me, Vee.”
“I’m not… disappointed. I just… don’t understand why. Why do you bother with her, Tisha? She always does this to you. She acts like you’re the light of her life one second, and she scorns you the next.”
“She’s my friend, Vee.”
“Is she, Tisha? Because she doesn’t-”
“She’s my friend.” The words were firm, filled with an earnestness even Vee knew not to debate. Tisha couldn’t help but notice her screen had dimmed its hue.
She expected a lot out of Vee. Not the level of honesty that came with her next words. “...I don’t like what she does to you, Tisha. I don’t like that you come into my room and don’t even hear me because you’re too focused on scrubbing your latest interaction with her out of your head.”
Tisha scoffed. “I’m sorry my feelings are such an inconvenience.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Vee was right, and Tisha hated it, because it would’ve been so much easier to disregard her if she had been selfish. “It’s not just right now; it’s all the time. I see how you get when you’re in the elevator with her. You clutch your skirt and avert your gaze. You get so… apologetic. You never get that way with anyone. Especially not when we used to argue.”
“Used to?” It was a light attempt at humor. Anything to ease the discomfort of the situation.
“Okay, still do, sometimes.” Vee admitted, awarding her with a quiet chuckle from Tisha. “Regardless, she has this effect on you that worries me. I really don’t like you hanging around her.”
Again, Vee was right, and Tisha hated it. It was true: she had spent years walking on eggshells around Brusha, even in their best moments. Tisha could learn what set her off. She could learn what not to say. She could learn how to navigate life with her near perfectly. But Brusha was always unpredictable. Her emotions were never fully in Tisha’s control.
But Brusha wasn’t Vee’s friend. She wasn’t there all of her life. She hadn’t experienced all of what made Brusha worth trying again and again. There was so much that only Tisha could ever understand about her.
“She’s not a bad person, Vee. We’ve talked about this. She’s just… unwell.”
Vee shook her head, but would argue no further. “Maybe so. But I still don’t like her.”
It was only fair; Tisha couldn’t deny her that. “You don’t have to. I wouldn’t ask you to. But… let me like her, okay?”
“On one condition…” Vee hesitated, and when she continued, Tisha knew exactly why. “...Let her fix herself. Whatever is going on with her, that’s her problem to manage, not yours. If she wants you in her life again, then let her earn it.”
It was a terrifying term to agree to. There was always a chance that Brusha wouldn’t dig herself out of her hole. She could choose to wallow in her sorrows. She could choose to grow vengeful and cruel. She could choose to throw away the past and never speak to Tisha again.
But Tisha would choose to believe in Brusha. For both their sakes.
“...Okay, Vee. It’s a promise.”