Chapter Twenty-six

History

James stretched his head from side to side as he pulled open the front door, intent on getting the paper. He was getting older, and he was starting to regret never caring about how healthy he'd be once he hit middle-age. Thank god he had Tuesdays off work; he'd actually gotten to sleep in until ten today.

He stopped as he reached the sidewalk, staring at the neighbor's front lawn. Mr. Cranston next door was ordinarily a quiet sort, never having loud guests, although when his son Billy had still been at home there'd been all sorts of noise and explosions and once James could have sworn he'd seen a flying VW Beetle taking off from in front of the house. People had always been coming and going, too, which was odd because the Billy kid seemed a tad too nerdy to have as many friends as he did, or to sneak into the house at three a.m. as he'd often done. But after Billy had left—James had assumed he'd gone off to college—things at the house next door had quieted down and there were never any more flashing lights coming from the garage. Now, however, there were three girls and six guys on the lawn, babbling incoherently in a panic.

James tried to listen in, but all of them were talking quickly and at the same time, so all he got was that someone had found out some sort of secret. Suddenly a tall kid in red pointed straight at him.

"You know, too, don't you?" the kid screamed "Everyone knows! But I can deny it to my dying day! This is just a witch hunt, that's all, and I'm not going to let you make me tell you the truth by using tricky mind games to make me panic because my mom's gonna kill me when she finds out and Eric will never—"

A kid in blue clapped his hand over the shouting kid's mouth while a blond girl in yellow smacked his arm. All nine of them smiled nervously at James in a distinctly creepy manner.

Worse than when that Billy kid was always blowing stuff up in the garage, James thought in annoyance. He muttered something about calling the police, hoping that would scare the kids away; sure enough, as he turned to go into his house, he heard the sound of car doors slamming, quickly followed by squealing tires.

Tommy drove to Jason's house at a speed Skull could only dream of, arriving a good five minutes before Zack. Once they were all together again they dove into the privacy of the house and continued freaking out, ranting and raving and trying to come up with plans that somehow always ended in ranting and raving. Only Trent wasn't panicking—but then, Trent wasn't faced with the idea of coming clean about his superhero identity to his parents. Trini was fairly calm herself—but she seemed pretty down and withdrawn, as though depressed about what Mr. Cranston thought of her. Mr. Cranston hadn't been angry, of course, but Trini seemed distressed that he'd known she was lying all along.

"Guys, seriously," Trent said in exasperation. "Don't you think they would have said something if they knew?"

"Billy's dad didn't!" Kimberly fairly yelped.

"Only because he was cool about it."

"And Ernie didn't!" Zack pointed out.

"He was cool about it, too. Besides, neither of them ever told anyone, and they both promised they wouldn't. After all, they've been keeping it a secret for what, ten, eleven years now?"

They all thought about that for a second.

"God, you're wonderful." Kira breathed a sigh of relief and flung her arms around his neck.

"Yeah, you are," said Conner, and tightly hugged both of them. Trent fought off an irritated sigh. It was started to annoy him that he hadn't gotten much alone time with Kira lately.

"Suddenly feeling kind of silly," Zack said. "Scared as hell, but silly."

"Why don't we just all… calm down and talk about something else?" Trent suggested hopefully.

"Like what?" Jason asked.

"Like… oh, tell us something about the Ranger days," Trent said. "Surely you guys have more stories for us."

"Yeah!" Kira and Ethan chorused. Of all of the teens, they were the most interested in Ranger history. Conner was mostly interested in Jason's past, while Trent found the whole subject risky, because it sometimes ended up being a tad disturbing, as it often seemed to lead to him being compared to Tommy.

"Yeah, cuz that's always fun," Tommy muttered darkly, thinking of the zord wreck with a shudder.

"What do you want to know?" Trini asked quickly, figuring any distraction was better than angry parents—after all, parents weren't known for keeping their children's secrets. It was why they always told their children's friends embarrassing stories involving diapers or some other such taboo thing.

Trent frowned, thinking; he pushed Conner away from him and Kira, mostly because it needed to be done but also because it was rather distracting. "Well… um… how did you all meet?" Trent asked. "Was it when you became Power Rangers?" Trent had befriended Conner, Kira and Ethan long before finding his Dino Gem, but he knew Conner, Kira and Ethan hadn't really given each other a second thought before stumbling into Tommy's basement lab.

Tommy shook his head. "The others were already friends when I moved to Angel Grove. I met Jason during a karate tournament, and Kimberly in the hall the next day. Scared the crap out of Bulk and Skull; they were hassling her."

"And you said you'd meet me in the Youth Center after school and decided to get yourself turned into the evil Green Ranger and try to kill us instead," Kimberly teased.

"Yeah, well, plans change," Tommy said, giving her a sheepish smile.

Glad that his idea appeared to be working, Trent pulled Kira over to an armchair and sat down, taking her with him. "But… what about the rest of you?"

Kimberly and Trini looked at each other.

Flashback

Five-year-old Kimberly stationed herself by the kitchen stove play set and looked around for another kindergartner to spend playtime with. Her eyes landed on a pretty Asian girl a few feet away. "Want to play house?" Kimberly called, holding up a plastic teapot.

The girl shrugged. "Okay."

Present Day

"We were best friends after that," Trini said. "Within a month, you couldn't pry us apart."

"Just like that, eh?" Ethan asked.

"Yup."

"Ah, the simple days," Kimberly said wistfully.

"Tell me about it," said Zack. "That's the same way I met Jason."

Flashback

"Hi."

Zack looked up at the speaker. An extremely short boy with brown hair was staring at him, confused and possibly a little upset.

"Hi," Zack said. "I'm Zack."

"I'm Jason. What are you doing?"

"Eatin' Play-Doh."

"Why?"

Zack thought about it for a second. "I don't know. I wanted to see what it tasted like."

"What does it taste like?"
"Here, try some!" Zack offered.

"I don't think you're supposed to eat it," said Jason, looking down at the red Play-Doh in Zack's hands with a slightly offended expression.

"Sure you are. What else can you do with it?"

"You make things." He took the Play-Doh from Zack, sculpted it with his hands for a minute, and then proudly presented his work to Zack. "See? A sword."

"Whoa!" Zack said, deeply impressed. He grabbed another hunk of Play-Doh and molded it into a cross-shaped lump. "You're right! It's a sword!"

"Wanna sword fight?" Jason asked.

"Yeah! Hi-YA!"

Present Day

"Dude!" Conner said, looking in Jason at surprise. "You were short?"

"Horribly short," Jason said with a sigh. "Right up until about eighth grade. Believe it or not, Kim actually used to tease me about being shorter than she was."

"Whoda thunk?" Conner said, shaking his head.

"Anyway, that's how I met Jason," Zack said.

"I'd almost forgotten about that," Jason said, shaking his head.

Zack nodded. "Good thing we met, eh? Otherwise there'd be a lot less Play-Doh in the world."

"Only you, Zack."

"You were just mad it was red Play-Doh."

"I don't even remember what color it was," Jason lied. "I wasn't even obsessed with red back then."

"Yeah, but—"

"What about Billy?" Trent interrupted, glad that everyone was finally starting to calm down and anxious to keep anyone from getting riled up again. "How'd you meet him?"

"Well," Trini said with a faint smile, "I met him first…"

Flashback

Trini looked around the room where her principal had told her she would be taking gifted classes this year. There were only four other kids in it at the moment, none of them from Trini's kindergarten class. Three of them were chatting while the fourth, a blond boy with glasses, sat alone, looking dejected. Trini hefted her advanced reading textbook under her arm and marched over to him.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Trini."

"That's a pretty name," he said, looking startled by her very existence.

"Thanks! What's your name?"

"B-Billy," he stammered.

"That's a pretty name, too."

"It is?"

"Yep. Will you be my friend?"

"I don't have any friends," Billy said apologetically.

"Why not?" Trini asked curiously. She had never met anyone who didn't.

"Everyone says I'm weird because I have an extensive vocabulary." Billy paused. "'Extensive' means 'big,' 'large' or 'long,' and 'vocabulary' means—"

"I know what it means," Trini said importantly. "It means the words you use."

"That's a simple way to put it," Billy said, staring at her in shock. Very few kids his age had ever been able to understand him; at best, they might catch every fifth word. Even teachers occasionally had trouble with his vocabulary.

"Well, I don't think you're weird," Trini said. "I think you're cool. I like your glasses."

"Most people say glasses are dorky."

"Well, most people aren't all that nice," Trini said firmly. "My mom says they have no respect for their peers."

"That's what my mom says, too," Billy said. "I didn't think she was right, though."

"Of course she is. If most people aren't being nice to you, and those same people aren't respecting you, and they're your peers, then most people who aren't nice have no respect for their peers, right?"

"Well… maybe. You're nice to me," Billy said, slightly accusingly.

"Well, I'm not most people, I'm me," Trini pointed. "And you're you."

Billy thought about this for a second. "Okay." He paused. "Does your daddy read the dictionary with you, too?"

Trini blinked. "No. Only when I hear a new word I want to look up."

"Then how come you also have an extensive vocabulary?"

"Well, because my mommy says that if I get really smart and study really hard, I'll get a really good job and take over the world and never be second-best to a man."

"Why do you want to take over the world?" Billy asked, wide-eyed.

"Well, because then I could make sure they play nothing but Scooby Doo on TV."

"Scooby Doo?"

"Yes."

"What's that?"

Trini gaped at him. "You know words like 'extensive' and you don't even know who Scooby Doo is?"

"I don't watch a lot of TV," Billy said apologetically. "My mom says it isn't very educational."

"Oh. Well, it's my favorite show. Kimberly's, too."

"Kimberly?"

"She's my other friend. You should play with us sometime. She's really nice. And she has lots of cool toys and dress-up clothes and she can fold herself in half."

"She can—what?"

"Fold herself in half. Kimberly takes gymnastics."

"Oh. Do you?"

"No, no. Daddy says martial arts is much more useful. Teaches discipline and honor."

"Martial arts? You mean, you hit people?" Billy looked appalled.

"Well, sometimes. But not very hard," she lied hastily at the look of terror on Billy's face. "And only when they deserve it," she added. At least that was true. Well, mostly… sometimes it was part of the class to train with other kids… and that bully Farcus back in kindergarten had usually deserved it.

"Are you going to hit me?" Billy asked resignedly.

Trini stared at him, startled. "Of course not. You're my friend now."

"I am?" Billy said, quite sure he hadn't yet agreed to that.

"Yep. You're going to sit with me and Kimberly at lunch and play with us at recess. And maybe sometime you can come over to my house and watch Scooby Doo."

"Um…" Billy said. He wasn't too certain how friendship worked; it had never happened to him before. So he didn't know if this was a good idea or not. But Trini seemed nice, and she was pretty and smart, so she would probably make a good friend. Besides, if she knew martial arts, she might could beat him up.

"Okay."

Present Day

They all cracked up. Picturing Billy cowering next to Trini was an oddly fitting image. "So you basically threatened him to be your friend?" Kira asked.

"Well, no, I wouldn't say threatened—but that's how he took it," Trini said. "It was pretty funny, looking back."

"So what was it like when you met him, Kim?" Kira asked eagerly.

Kimberly shook her head. "Oh, man… what a disaster that was... it was later that same day…"

Flashback

"Hi, Kimmy!" Trini called cheerfully as she plopped her lunch tray down across from Kimberly. The first-grade students had an assigned section of the cafeteria, but no actual assigned seats, so even though Trini was in a different class this year she could still eat with Kimberly.

"Hi, Tri!" Kimberly replied, waving enthusiastically despite the fact that Trini was less than three feet away.

"This is Billy," Trini said.

"Who's Billy?"

"This," Trini said, gesturing to the seat next to her as she dug into her food.

Kimberly frowned. "Oh, is Billy your invisible friend?"

"What? No, he's right—" Trini looked over at the seat next to her and blinked. Billy wasn't in it. "Where'd he go? He was right behind me!"

Trini stood up and looked around. Billy was nowhere to be seen. Trini narrowed her eyes. "I'll be right back," she said in a determined sort of way, and stalked off.

Kimberly shrugged and fought to open her chocolate milk. A moment later, Trini returned with a hand firmly clamped around the forearm of a blond kid with glasses. "This," Trini announced, "is Billy. I'm his very first friend. You get to be his second friend, Kimmy."

"Cool," Kimberly gushed as he was forced into the seat next to Trini. "I like your glasses."

"But… but people are supposed to think glasses are dorky," Billy said desperately. Spending an entire three hours in class with Trini had rather shaken his outlook on life.

"Glasses aren't dorky! I have some too, see?" Kimberly pulled her prize possession from the empty seat next to her—a big pink suede purse with a beaded strap. She flourished it at Billy to show it off before fishing inside it for a moment and pulling out her glasses. Then she jammed them on her face. "See?" she repeated proudly.

Billy stared. Kimberly's glasses were nothing like his. The frames were pink plastic and star-shaped, with dark lenses. He wasn't too much of an expert on cool, but they didn't look dorky to him at all. "Those are sunglasses, you know," he pointed out uncertainly. He wasn't sure if sunglasses were supposed to be dorky like regular glasses or not.

"They're still glasses," Kimberly insisted. "My mom says they make me look like a movie star. And Dad says they make me look like a prima donna."

"But 'prima donna' has negative associations."

Kimberly stared at him. Billy's eyes widened in horror—the first big word usage was always the moment right before someone called him weird and either made him go away or walked off themselves. Or worse.

"Billy has an extensive vocabulary," Trini explained.

"Oh, that thing you have sometimes?"

"Yeah, that." To Billy, Trini said, "Kimberly's not really a prima donna. She just dresses like one."

"Oh." Billy blushed and pushed his glasses a little higher up his nose. He got the distinct feeling that Trini didn't feel the need to explain every word to Kimberly.

"Billy's going to be our friend from now on," Trini continued. "We're going to be just like the Three Musketeers."

Billy looked rather nervous at that, but Kimberly just shrugged, smiled and said, "Okay. Can you open my milk, Trini? It's stuck again."

Trini took the carton and tried her best, but failed. "Billy?" she asked. "Want to try?"

Billy took the carton worriedly, wondering if this was some sort of test, or perhaps some trick to make him embarrass himself. Considering how emphatic Trini seemed to be about being his friend now, he was pretty sure it was the first one, though. He looked at the carton for a second—the flaps had been peeled back, but they wouldn't push outward; they were stuck together. So Billy stuck his fingernail in the gap in the middle and yanked as hard as he could.

And found himself covered in chocolate milk.

Billy stared blankly ahead, unable to fathom this new twist in life. He wasn't sure what was going on with the girls, because the milk had doused his glasses, too, but he could hear them both shrieking. Well, there went his new friendship.

The next thing he knew, paper napkins were being pressed firmly all over his head. He wondered if this was some sort of attack, if they were angry, if he'd gotten milk on them too. So it came as a complete surprise when a half-drenched Trini yanked off his glasses, her face really close to his to make sure he could see her. "Billy! Are you all right?" she asked, as though he'd just fallen off a building and broken a leg.

Billy blinked. He was still a bit too shocked to speak.

"I'm sorry! I never should have asked you guys to open my milk!" Kimberly wailed. "Please don't hate me! Oh, Trini, your dress is ruined! And Billy's hair is turning brown! Argh, napkins, we're out of napkins!" There was a sound of a scuffle at the table behind them, and then Billy felt Kimberly whacking him in the chest with her new supply of napkins.

"I'll clean off your glasses," Trini said, still looking worried.

"It just exploded," Billy said in awe, looking down at the dripping remains of the carton in his hands through blurry eyes.

"Well, the next time we experiment with new ways to open Kim's milk, we're not doing it that way," Trini said firmly, wiping down his glasses and then wringing out the side of her dress into the pile of soggy napkins on the table.

"My milk never opens right," Kimberly complained, nearly pushing him right off the back of the bench with a nice firm whack to one of the brown stains on his shirt.

"Mine's always half-frozen," Trini said.

Billy looked down at his milk-covered person, then at his arm, which Kimberly had jerked away from his body to clean off. He resolved to always drink the white milk from now on.

"We'd better go to the office," Kimberly whimpered, trying to haul Billy to his feet.

"Why?" Billy said distractedly, his brain slowly shutting down, as if it could no longer handle his utterly strange day.

"That's what I always do when there's a problem," Kimberly said, pushing him towards the door. Trini took his hand and began to pull, leaving Kimberly free to race on ahead.

"Mrs. O'Connell!" shrieked Kimberly, bursting into the main office in a panic. "Mrs. O'Connell, it's terrible!"

The secretary sighed. Kimberly was well-known in the office as the school's resident drama queen, and she'd only been in the school for a year so far; usually, Mrs. O'Connell let the other secretary deal with Kimberly, but old Mrs. Waverly had retired and they hadn't found a replacement yet. "What is it, Kimberly?"

"My new friend Billy tried to open my milk for me and it went bad!"

Mrs. O'Connell stared at her. This had to be the lamest, weirdest thing Kimberly had come to the office for yet.

"Well, Kimberly, there isn't much I can do about—oh dear." Mrs. O'Connell stared in shock at the sight of the two kids coming into the office behind Kimberly, the girl steering the boy gently by the arm, holding a pair of sticky glasses in her other hand. The little boy had a thoroughly stunned expression. He was soaked from head to toe in chocolate milk, still dripping in some places. The girl leading him was drenched almost exclusively down her left side. Mrs. O'Connell fervently hoped there hadn't been anyone else sitting near little Billy when he'd tried to open Kimberly's milk.

"Please fix them!" Kimberly wailed. "I don't want to lose my friends!"

"We're not going to stop being your friends," said the milk girl patiently, with the air of one who has said the same thing over and over again to no effect.

"You might! What if you do, Trini, what if you do!"

"I'm covered in chocolate milk," Billy said in a dazed sort of way, as though it hadn't yet sunk completely in.

Mrs. O'Connell struggled to come up with something reassuring to say as she reached for the radio to call the janitor; no doubt the cafeteria had a good deal of chocolate milk all over it right now. Before she could pick it up, it beeped and the lunch monitor's voice crackled through.

"Red alert, repeat, red alert! Three first graders missing. Abandoned their lunches. Appear to have left cafeteria. One apparently stole napkins from six people at neighboring table before making a break for it. Red alert, three missing first graders, calling all hands on deck, over!"

"Shut up, Hal, they're in the office," Mrs. O'Connell said tiredly into the radio. Hal was a little excitable. She had no idea why they'd put someone like him in a cafeteria full of elementary school kids, especially given his Hitler-like tendencies.

"Send them back to the lunch room immediately! They didn't ask my permission to leave! Over!"

"Two of them are soaked and the other one's in tears. I'll deal with them, thanks. Out." Rolling her eyes, she turned to the one exasperated and two distraught first graders. "Now, what are your parents' phone numbers?"

"My friends are never gonna speak to me again!" Kimberly sobbed.

"I'm covered in chocolate milk," Billy whispered, staring blankly at the wall.

"Five-five-five-oh-six-one-oh," Trini said calmly.

"And you, son?" Mrs. O'Connell asked Billy sweetly.

"I'm covered in chocolate milk."

"He's a little traumatized," Trini whispered to Mrs. O'Connell in an apologetic sort of way. Mrs. O'Connell blinked, startled at her choice of words. "But his last name is Cranston, if that helps."

"Thank you," she said.

"You're not going home, are you, Trini?" Kimberly demanded, grabbing Trini's hand and staring at her in horror. "Who will I play with at recess?"

Trini sighed, looking as though going home greatly appealed to her at this point. "Mrs. O'Connell, aren't there any clothes in the lost and found bin we could wear? Mrs. Smith found me a new shirt that one time when Farcus spilled finger paint all over me last year."

Mrs. O'Connell stared at her for a moment before pulling the bin out from under the counter. "I'll look, sweetie, but that one—" she pointed at Billy— "probably needs a bath. And maybe therapy," she added worriedly.

"I'm covered in chocolate milk," Billy whispered again.

"No luck," Mrs. O'Connell told Trini a moment later. They cleaned out the bin over the summer, and the school year had only just started yesterday, so there wasn't much in the bin—just an old belt, a pair of earmuffs and one tennis shoe.

"You can't leave, Trini!" Kimberly wailed. "You have to play with me at recess! You always play with me at recess! You were supposed to come over after school, too! You hate me, don't you?"

Trini gently took Kimberly by the shoulders, and then shook her until her sunglasses fell off. "Kim, get a grip! If I have to go home, I have to go home. But I probably won't. If they don't find me some new clothes to wear, my mom might bring some. I don't want to go home. I'll try not to. Calm down."

We need more kids like that, Mrs. O'Connell thought, picking up the phone. "Kim, dear, why don't you go back to class?" Kimberly let out a whimper that became a low whine and, sensing where it was going, Mrs. O'Connell hastily added, "Or you could just sit quietly over there until after I call Trini's parents and find out if she's going home, how's that?"

"Okay," Kimberly sniffled, sitting down in the small plastic waiting chairs.

Trini gently guided Billy over to a chair next to Kimberly, then sighed when he didn't take the hint to sit down and shoved him into it. She slid his milk-streaked, sticky glasses back on his head—after all, napkins only did so much against milk on glass—and then returned to the counter. "Sorry about that," she said quietly, looking slightly embarrassed. "Kimmy's a little high-strung."

"You're a very unique girl," Mrs. O'Connell said. "Five-five-five-oh-six-one-oh, you said?"

She nodded. "Yep. Trini Kwan. Please explain that I'd like to stay at school, and would really appreciate it if she'd just bring me clothes."

Mrs. O'Connell nodded, and Trini remained patiently at the counter, as if reluctant to join Trauma Boy and Sobbing Girl. Figuring she might as well go for the easier call first, she dialed the Kwan residence and started flipping through the emergency cards, looking for Billy Cranston.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Kwan?"

"Yes?"

"This is Mrs. O'Connell, over at Angel Grove Elementary, and—"

"I honestly don't understand why you people keep insisting that Trini isn't allowed to defend herself when that goon Farcus attacks her."

"Oh, um, actually… Oh, I remember her now! She never talked much when they brought her in before for fighting; I didn't realize it was the same… I mean, um, there's been a bit of an incident in the cafeteria with a couple friends of hers and some chocolate milk, and she needs a spare change of clothes, probably a bath."

"Oh. Well, is it all right if I just come pick her up? It's already almost noon. School will be out in two hours. There's no point in my coming out there twice. And she has karate today, so if she needs a bath, I need to get her one soon…"

"Well, she was hoping she could stay for recess, but it's your decision."

"All right, then. Tell her I'll pick her up. Oh, did this involve Kimberly?"

"Well, yes, Kimberly and another boy."

"Ah. Just so you know, if Kimberly starts sobbing, Trini is probably the only thing that can make her stop," Mrs. Kwan said, and hung up.

Mrs. O'Connell sighed and dialed the Cranston residence. A man answered on the second ring.

"Mr. Cranston?"

"Yes?"

"This is Mrs. O'Connell, from Angel Grove Elementary School. Your son had a bit of an accident in the cafeteria and—"

"I'll be right there!" Mr. Cranston interrupted worriedly. "Make sure you find out who did it this time!"

The line went dead. Mrs. O'Connell sighed, knowing Kimberly wasn't going to like this and praying someone else got to deal with her.

"Can I stay?" Trini asked.

"I'm afraid she wants to take you home," Mrs. O'Connell replied.

Trini nodded sadly. "I thought she would. Well, I'd better start cheering up Kim in advance."

And Trini did just that, although by the ninth time the girls sang the Sesame Street theme song Mrs. O'Connell was starting to feel faint stirrings of a violent streak. Thankfully, Mrs. Kwan arrived in the middle of the opening lines of the eleventh rendition.

"Good heavens, Trini, look at you," she said. "What on earth happened?"

"Kim's milk wouldn't open and Billy tried really really hard to—"

"Where is he?" demanded a breathless Mr. Cranston, bursting into the office, his penny loafers skidding on the tiles. "Is he okay? Did you get the bully's name?"

"He's, um, he's fine, Mr. Cranston, he just—"

Mr. Cranston wasn't listening; he'd spotted Billy sitting rigid in the chair, staring straight ahead through his milky glasses. "Billy! Son, what is that all over you? Did someone pour milk on you this time? Rude little devils! I swear!"

"Excuse me, Mr. Billy's dad," Trini said, stepping up. "No one poured milk on him. It was an accident."

"Who are you?" Mr. Cranston demanded, eyeing the milk stains on her dress suspiciously.

"I'm Trini Kwan, sir," Trini said, extending her hand. "I'm Billy's very first friend. Kim here is his second friend."

Mr. Cranston shook her hand absently, staring at her. "Is that right?"

"Yep. Billy was trying to open Kimberly's milk for her and it just exploded. We tried to wipe him up, but I don't think we got it all."

"That's my girl," Mrs. Kwan said in affectionate exasperation. "Drying other people off while her new dress drips all over her shoes. You're a little too sweet sometimes, honey."

Trini proudly threw out her chest. "Billy's my friend, Mom. I had to help him."

Mr. Cranston shook his head and turned back to Billy. "Are you okay, son?"

"I'm covered in chocolate milk," Billy said blankly.

"He's a little traumatized, sir," Trini said. "But I think he'll be okay."

"I'm really sorry," Kimberly said, her lip quivering dangerously; Trini looked at her worriedly. "I wouldn't have asked him to help with my milk if I'd known it could do that."

Mr. Cranston nodded kindly at her and shook Billy slightly. "Son? Speak to me, Billy."

Billy blinked, only to find himself unable to see. He pulled off his glasses, which didn't do much for his vision except remove the brown streaks. "Hi, Dad," Billy said, still rather dazed.

"You okay?"

"I made a new friend, Dad."

"And an enemy out of the chocolate milk, I'd wager."

"What?"

"Nothing. That's very good, son."

"Two friends, right Billy?" Kimberly asked desperately.

"Oh. Yes. Right. Two friends."

"Come on," Mr. Cranston said worriedly. "Let's get you home."

Mr. Cranston had to pull Billy up to his feet by the hand; Billy swayed unsteadily for a moment. Just as Mr. Cranston tried to nudge him around towards the doorway, Kimberly shrieked "WAIT!" so loud that everyone jumped.

Kimberly got up and flung her arms around Billy's neck. Billy assumed this was hug. He wasn't sure, because only his parents had ever hugged him, and they were a lot taller and therefore it didn't work quite the same. So he just copied Kimberly's example until she let go and turned to hug Trini, her pink dress now dotted with the occasional brown stain. "Are you still coming over today, Trini?"

Trini looked at her mother. "We'll see," Mrs. Kwan said.

Trini sighed. "Have fun at recess, okay?"

"I'll try," Kimberly said tearfully.

Trini patted her on the shoulder and then smiled at Billy. "Have a good day, Billy."

"I'll do that," Billy said blankly.

Mr. Cranston shook his head worriedly. "He usually bounces back much more rapidly from a bully attack."

"Well, it's one thing to face down a bully," Trini said wisely, gesturing to her ruined dress, "and it's a whole other story to face down chocolate milk."

Present Day

"Billy told us it took hours to recover from the shock," Kimberly said with a sigh. "I felt so horrible. But he dutifully sat with me and Trini again at lunch, when he finally came back to school."

"That school had the most annoying milk cartons ever," Zack complained.

"That was the same day I met you, wasn't it, Kim?" Jason asked.

"Yup. That was the first time I didn't have anyone to play with at recess," Kimberly said.

"What, he saw you sitting alone and decided to ask you to play with him?" Ethan asked. People were always doing that—well, the teenaged version of that—to him, which he actually found kind of annoying. No one seemed to understand that when he was sitting alone, it was because he wanted to sit alone, to play his Game Boy or read a good sci-fi book or whatever. People never seemed to understand why he didn't constantly crave social interaction.

"Nope," Jason said, shaking his head. "I was alone that day at recess, too. Zack had gotten punished for eating Play-Doh. Again."

"It was good!" Zack insisted. "The red stuff tasted the best, but the blue was all right, too."

"Do you still eat it or something?" Kimberly asked. Zack ignored her.

"Zack, Play-Doh doesn't have individual flavors," Jason said, rolling his eyes.

"How would you know? You never ate it." He looked around at the rest of the group. "Come on, guys, back me up here. We've all eaten Play-Doh at some point, right?"

Everyone stared at him blankly for a second.

"Of course," Conner said. "But I thought the yellow tasted best. Ooh, and the white."

"Nah, man, white was nasty!"

"Dude, remember the green?" Both Conner and Zack shuddered and made disgusted noises, then cracked up.

"Getting back on subject," Jason said loudly, "I ran into Kim on the playground."

"Actually," Kimberly said, jokingly pulling her face into a wide-eyed expression of awe and hero-worship, "you saved my life."

End Notes: This was just an interlude I was dying to do… hope it's as funny as I thought it was. Personally, I can just picture Zack as a Play-Doh eater and Kimberly as a six-year-old diva. The title, "History," is technically an S.P.D. title, but as it fit and the episode had Conner, Kira and Ethan in it, I figured I'd use it.

Random poll of the day: What's everyone's favorite episode of Power Rangers?

Behold the Future:

1) "I didn't understand a word he just said and he looks the same as he did back in high school," Kimberly said. "Wow. Billy's back."

2) At last, Jason took his hand down and looked solemnly at Tommy. "You know she's going to kick your ass, right?"

3) "Trini, I'm going to ask you this very carefully," Kimberly said, fighting off a grin. "What is Tommy doing in our bed?"

4) Jason's grin widened. "It's just killing you that I might have gotten in the winning hit, isn't it."

5) Conner pouted. Ethan patted him on the back. "Don't worry, Conner. He's the one who put a sinkhole at the entrance to his secret lab escape tunnel. And you were just trying to help. We'll look back on this and laugh, Conner. Who knows, maybe this will even work out all right."

6) "…Don't you mean Trini swooned?" Zack asked, raising his eyebrows.

"No, JASON. Jason swooned."

7) "All bets are off in a Ranger-to-Ranger battle," Trent said. Everyone turned to look at him. "What?" he demanded defensively.