12
Trini clutched her mother's hand tightly as she was led through the colorful, twisting walls of the hallways that led to her kindergarten classroom. Her long pigtails brushed against her shoulders as she bounced along. She looked over her shoulder, looking for her dad. But then turned to face forward once more, knowing her father was going to be at work and would miss her first day of kindergarten.
Trini looked up at her mother once more and smiled brightly, while Mrs. Kwan gave a tight-lipped smile in response. Trini giggled quietly to herself, knowing how nervous her mother was. It was why she asked so many questions when they were out the door that morning. All questioned in Vietnamese, which Trini quickly rattled off her own childlike version of it.
"Do you remember how to tie your shoes?"
"Yes, mommy."
"And how to ask to go to the bathroom"
"Yes, mommy."
"And your colors and numbers?"
And Trini continued to laugh and giggle as her mother continued to ask her questions. It was the first time they'd really be apart. Her mother had even worked at her preschool for a short time as a class aide, helping her daughter whenever needed. Now Trini was at the age of going to school by herself while her mother went back to work.
Her father was much more relaxed about everything, quizzing her on her numbers and colors in a playful way. Pretending to think as he thought of a number he wanted her to start at and start counting. Sometimes throwing in questions of multiplication and counting by twos, threes, and fours, all the while Trini sat on his lap and looked at her father with utmost adoration.
She was ready for school. And ready to have fun and make new friends. And learn new things. She loved to learn new things. Always asked for new books at the library when she and her mother would take their weekly trips for new things to read.
So much so that while she wasn't running around and screaming like all the other students in her classroom—Trini peered around her mother's legs to watch them as they arrived—Trini was eager to let go of her mother's hand and walk into the room, confident and ready to start everything that kindergarten had to offer.
After speaking with her daughter's teacher, Mrs. Kwan knelt by her daughter's side and smoothed back her hair, making sure her handlebar pigtails were in place, tightening the yellow scrunchies that held them together. Then she smoothed down Trini's white top and yellow shorts, brushed off her yellow socks, and dusted minute specs of dust from her white shoes. Everything to look perfect.
"You're going to have a good day, Trini," Mrs. Kwan said, in continued Vietnamese. Trini beamed, bouncing lightly on her toes, finding any place for her energy to go. "Learn lots of things. I want to hear about it all when I pick you up. Okay?"
"Okay!" Trini threw her arms around her mother's neck. "I love you, mommy."
"I love you, too."
Trini waved to her mother before venturing further into the classroom, her backpack bobbing against her back as she did so. Her teacher found her and walked her to the cubbies where each student had space to hang up their backpacks and put in their lunchboxes to be used for later before she left Trini to help another student who had suddenly started wailing loudly, after having fallen to his knees.
Trini looked over, training her neck to see what happened. She was so engrossed in the crying that she hadn't noticed another little girl—all decked out in pink—come up beside her. She looked over the scene then said to Trini, face screwed up in concern, "I hope he's okay."
"Yeah," Trini agreed. "I wonder what happened."
The girl waved her hand. "That's Bulk, he always cries when his mom drops him off." She then blinked and stood back, looking Trini up and down. Her eyes widened and she clasped her hands over her mouth. Trini blinked at her curiously. "Pigtails!" The girl in pink squealed. She reached up and grabbed onto her own handlebars, gently tugging her head back and forth before beaming. All traces of concern for the fallen boy gone. "So cute!" She pressed her thumb into her chest. "I'm Kimberly Ann Hart."
Trini waved, slinging her hand back and forth. The girl had a lot of enthusiasm, she noted. The same sort of enthusiasm her mother wouldn't always let her show. If she started to get too exuberant, she was shushed and reminded it was better to be seen and not heard. That her excellence in her activities was to bring attention to herself, not her voice.
It didn't bother Trini too much. She liked silence. She liked being able to sit back and take in everything that was to take in. It brought her closer to…to everything, in that sense. There was something about seeing the world in a different way in that aspect that made it fun for her.
But something about this girl's excitement, she couldn't ignore. "I'm Trini."
"Come sit with me!" Kimberly grabbed Trini's hand and walked her toward one of the tables set up in the room with tiny chairs for all the students. Trini shrugged and followed her, with a simple, "Okay."
They sat down in the two chairs, knees knocking against each other as they swayed back and forth, giggling quietly to each other. "So, like, how old are you?" Kimberly tucked her hair behind her ears, showing off the tiny pink studs in her ears and the matching bracelet around her wrist.
"I'm five," Trini replied.
Kimberly's mouth dropped open, eyes widening further as if she'd never heard the news before. "No way! So am I?"
"What's your favorite color?" Trini asked.
"Pink!" Kimberly stuck out her chest with pride. "I love it!" She ran her hands over her hair once more, tousling the strands that hadn't moved from before. "I have pink everything. My entire room is pink. My mom says it's because I was born on Valentine's Day. My dad says it's just because I'm so girly."
Trini giggled quietly.
"But you like yellow, right?" Kimberly added. She held up her fingers in the peace sign. "That's my second favorite color!" She curled her hands over the edge of her seat, kicking her legs back and forth. "We were so meant to be friends."
"I agree." Trini smiled and nodded. She looked around the room, taking in the rest of the kids that was going to be her classmates. 'Bulk' was still crying loudly while their teacher tried to consol him, a smaller, wiry boy stood next to him, laughing a weird snorting laugh, only stopping when 'Bulk' smacked him on the thigh.
On the other side of the room was a boy all dressed in black and purple, bouncing back and forth in some sort of dance move he was showing off to a boy dressed in red, who stood casually aside, hands resting on the waistband of his pants. When the boy in black/purple stopped dancing around, the boy in red started to throw his leg up in the air, in high kicks to the wide grinned approval of his friend.
Trini craned her neck and continued to look around, stopping when she spotted a smaller blonde-haired, blue-eyed, bespectacled boy who sat nearby, routinely pressing his glasses up his nose as he looked down at the table, slowly kicking his legs back and forth. Every few seconds, he'd lift his chin to look around the room, then lower his head once more.
"Hi," Trini waved to him. "I'm Trini."
The boy looked at her, pushed his glasses up his nose, lifted his hand with a tiny smile, then dropped it once more, shoulders rounding out.
"Oh, that's Billy." Kimberly leaned over, pressing her hand to the side of her mouth and not-quite-whispered, "He's a little shy." Billy's nose wrinkled, mouth puckered as if he didn't enjoy the description Kimberly used on him. "He's really smart, though. He, like, already knows multiplication and everything. We're not supposed to learn that until third grade."
"I know it, too," Trini said, modestly. Kimberly and Billy both looked at her with wide eyes. "My parents taught me."
"Oh, well, you think you can help me sometime?" Kimberly asked.
"Of course." Trini leaned forward to speak to Billy. "Do you want to help, too?"
Billy looked over his shoulders, eyes widening. Then he reached up and pointed toward himself. "Me?"
"Mhm." Trini got up and walked over to Billy's table, sitting next to him. "I really like math. What about you?"
He shrugged and nodded. "Um, I like math," he said. His voice was low, soft. Slowly warming and becoming louder to make sure "And science. I like to make new things." He shrugged modestly. "I learned how vacuums work."
"You did?"
"Mhm. I took my mother's vacuum apart." He blushed. "I don't really know how to put it back together."
"I can help," Trini offered.
Kimberly flopped into the seat on Billy's other side, not wanting to be left out. "Me, too!" Billy looked at her skeptically. "I want to help my best friends."
Trini smiled and nodded.
…
..
.
Best friends. The best friends Trini could've ever asked for. Best friends she didn't know she'd ever have, stepping into the kindergarten classroom that day. Best friends that she would do anything for. Just as she'd done that night. She wanted to have as much fun as they did, but also wanted to keep them safe. It was what drove her to follow them out to the car, begging them to let her drive.
"Trini, I know what I'm doing," Jason said as they approached the driver's side door. He pulled his hand back as she reached for the keys, stumbling a little as he did so. He wasn't as drunk as the others, hadn't drunk nearly as much, but for someone who hardly drank at all, Trini hadn't been surprised to find he was a lightweight. "I can drive."
Trini shook her head, her long hair batting her in the face as she did so. "It's not a good idea."
"Just relax, I'll be careful."
"We'll be more careful if you stay here. Let me do it." She reached for the keys, but once more Jason held them from her grasp. For a moment, Trini thought of taking him on, beating him up to take the keys back from him.
Decided against it.
She could probably take him down, knew his fighting style well enough to know the tricks that would have him landing flat on his back. But there was also the fact that, no matter how strong she became, Jason was still a male and still stood many inches over her and weighed many pounds heavier than her. If he wanted to, he could take her down without a care in the world.
She never thought he would but…who knew what would happen in his inebriated state? As if having the same thought, he'd stepped forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, surprising her with the affection, before tilting her head up so she looked him in the eye. "Everything will be fine, I promise. If I start to feel woozy, I'll pull over and let you drive, okay?"
Trini searched his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity in them.
It was then that all her friends, her drunken friends, started to hoot and holler at her, demanding she let Jason drive because she was, "Ruining all the fun." Trini nodded. But she would go with them.
She had no idea how it happened that Zack was then climbing behind the driver's seat, but he couldn't be talked out of it. Had she known what was to happen, she would've fought harder for all of her friends to stay at the house and not worry about drinking any further.
But she still went.
She wanted to protect her friends.
And she was paying the price for it.
"We need to stop the bleeding," the surgeon said, his voice, muffled by the blood splattered mask over his face, holding more concern than what was professionally given. "She doesn't have much time left." His tired eyes glanced around at the team bustling with him. "I'm not going to lose her!"
"She's already lost so much blood," the surgical assistant reminded him. Unlike the concern in his voice, her voice was more to the point. Straightforward. No matter what, if anything did happen, they'd follow the same routine afterward. They'd make some sort of a joke, anything to brighten the situation, to make their jobs that much easier. To distant themselves, to do anything to just get by. "I'm not sure how much more we can do."
The surgeon looked at the rest of his team; the surgical technologist, the radiographer, the anesthesiologist, and the nurse. All whom he'd worked with in many surgeries before. All who'd he'd spent countless hours with, in and out of the surgical room. He trusted that team more than he trust his own family. Probably saw them more than his own family.
A family he had the privilege of going to home every night.
He looked back at the patient in front of him. Her face was bloated with swelling, trauma from having struck whatever it was that had injured her in the car crash. But he could still see the beauty within her, the silent strength that seemed to radiate from her in spades.
He looked at her, watched her, imagined the life she had. He couldn't imagine her being a drinker. The toxicology reports proved she hadn't drunk a single drop. But she'd still gotten in the car along with the others. A potentially fatal mistake. Being sober, compared to the rest, made her tense up upon the moment of impact. One of the biggest mistakes to be made, those that were the most drunk got away with less injuries, their bodies turning liquid and wobbly due to the inebriation.
It was as the saying went; why did bad things have to happen to good people?
The surgeon took one look at his team again, saw the defeat in their eyes, and shook his head. "We have to keep trying," he said. "I'm not going to call it until it needs to be called. I'm going to save this one."
He was going to do everything he could to get Trini back to her family and friends.
A/N: Wow, though most of my Powerless stories so far, it seems that I really like to torture Trini. I promise it's all coincidence. But there's something to be said for someone who does everything right and has the worst happen to her. She's strong and can come back from anything, but we'll see if she can come back from this.
Thank you all for still sticking around with me. I'm working to focus on this story and Shattered Grid to update for a while so I can get further in them before working on some of my other stories. At least this one so far, I may jump back into Headstrong but we'll see. I hope you're all ready for the next one as well.
~Av