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All of the newbies add themselves to a WhatsApp group text midway through the first day, before everything goes to shit and while they can still gather in twos or threes to be added and expend precious time. Except for Trinity. Trinity only gets added to it nearly a month later. Whitaker apparently had to vouch for her.
“What the hell,” she says. “What do you mean, vouch?”
“Uh. Okay. How to explain. I don’t know if you know this,” Whitaker says, “but you’re kind of an…acquired taste.”
Trinity splutters a little, and winds up saying the most sensible thing: “Gross, stop trying to fuck me.”
Whitaker has stopped responding when she says things like this, which makes it less fun. Actually, no, she likes him a lot. He just shakes his head, with a sigh, and offers her the bowl of popcorn. They’re at her, now technically their, place watching 28 Days Later.
Once she’s added, though, a couple of hours later, Trinity gets a separate message. It’s from Mel King. Mel says, Hey! I keep meaning to get your number! How are you? We haven’t been on shift together in a couple days.
Trinity purses her mouth. It took her a couple of days to figure out Mel was impervious to big-dogging even though Trinity is great at big-dogging, but this sustained level of cheer when she knows she’s been a bitch is so weird.
Pretty good, she answers. What about you, toots?
Why are you calling me that?
Trinity has to be honest: idk.
OK. I’m good. I would say it’s not busy today but that’s bad luck. Then Mel tells her, actually, a lot of shit. She’s heard about Mel’s sister but the program that Mel’s sister is in is giving her shit about the times she’s coming to pick her up.
Wow that sucks assssss. Should I beat them up? Trinity does not even add her impressive martial arts resume. Hey, when gymnastics was fucked for her, she had to do something about it. Several different somethings. A few years of different summer classes.
No, I don’t think violence is the answer.
Trinity can’t tell if she’s joking. Probably not? Is that offensive to think about someone who is really, super clearly Autistic? Trinity thinks she should probably care a little, as a medical professional.
Eventually, Mel says, Okay, break’s over, locking my phone again! Talk to you later!
Does Mel King actually leave her phone in the lockers? Also, had she used her whole break to send texts to Trinity? Mel’s a lot weirder than she thought. Trinity thinks about it. “Yep, super offensive,” she decides out loud.
“What?” Whitaker says.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay,” he says. “Will do. Or…won’t…do?”
“Is that a grammar question? If so, I’m not your girl, Huckleberry.”
*
Hey Trinity! Are you home? Mel texts two, maybe three days later.
Yeah, what’s up?
Cool, I’m off today too. Can I talk to you about something serious? It has to stay private and I think you’re the tightest-lipped of our cohort. If you don’t want to hear it because you’re not in the mood or you think that’s too much responsibility that’s okay too.
Wow that’s a lot of words. Trinity just says, Okay spill.
Then, with some fairly rapid-fire texts from Mel, Trinity is hearing about the thing she’d ratted Langdon out for from the perspective of someone who had met him and immediately identified him as a mentor. The perspective of someone who Langdon had taken an immediate and clear shine to, because, well, it was hard not to like Mel. Sort of annoyingly, Trinity had decided when she noticed how clear the favoritism was. That first day was so fucking long. Langdon hasn’t been back since.
So the good news is he’s maybe going to a rehabilitation program. He stayed with me for a few days.
What the fuck. Langdon stayed with you??????????
Yes. This is such a big thing that he’s dealing with that could end his career so his wife was pretty upset. I mean, not to say I don’t understand why.
Deadbeat ass. Also is he being weird to Mel? She will literally kill him with karate if he’s being weird to Mel. Trinity cannot be anything less than suspicious of guys in authority positions making use of the kindness of their subordinates.
Langdon is back at home though, Mel is explaining, and Trinity actually breathes out a sigh from a stitch formed in her chest. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I’m really worried about him, I guess?
Not your responsibility, Trinity says.
Not technically but we’re all each other’s responsibility, right?
Does Mel mean, like, in the world?
Trinity doesn’t know if Mel knows that she turned Langdon in. Trinity ponders telling her and then doesn’t. She says something noncommittal and they don’t really talk for the rest of that day, though Mel is excited to see her the next time they’re on shift together.
*
Trinity cannot make a nickname for Mel stick for herself. She inexplicably says Pink Ranger one day and Mel actually steps back from the patient to go, “Oh, I loved that show!”
“Can you guys talk after you drain my wound like you said you were going to do?” the patient asks.
Trinity opens her mouth, but Mel, ducking her head down, says, “Of course, sorry, sir,” though the guy seems kind of amused.
That same day, Mel texts her at night: Hey, I know it was a long day and totally okay if you say no. But are you doing anything right now? Maybe we could meet up or something?
It’s ten o’clock. Trinity has to be at the hospital in less hours than anyone would like. She still says, I’m avail. Drinks at O’Shaughnessy’s?
There’s a long pause between that message and the one that comes next: That place is really loud which will make it hard for me to focus on hanging out. Do you have another idea?
My place? Trinity types.
That’s really generous! Thank you!
She tries not to think that Mel is weird. The other day she Googled stuff about Autism and everything. Not that she thinks about Mel a bunch, except that Mel talks to her a lot, and is coming over to talk to her in her house right now.
“Hey!” Mel says, when Trinity opens the door to her. It’s jarring to see any of her coworkers with their hair down, even though she sees it at the end of shared shifts all the time. “I brought ciders?”
Trinity is a little surprised, a little impressed. “Killer,” she says.
Mel actually goes to put the spares in the fridge for her, which makes her think, Goddamn my kitchen is gross right now. This produces a mental note to boss Whitaker around about it, but Mel doesn’t comment on anything if she notices. They settle on the couch together with one cider each.
“Where’s Whitaker?” Mel asks.
It had became an open secret that they were rooming with lightning speed, because Trinity told everyone, because they all obviously thought she and Whitaker were fucking when they were clearly spending a lot of external time together.
Except she’d also been like “Plus Whitaker was homeless, so,” in front of Whitaker, at their job, and so Trinity was now in the roommate doghouse. She kinda forgot about that for a minute, honestly. It’s her apartment that Whitaker is trying to find work that pays to substantially help with, but maybe she’ll clean the kitchen.
“He’s shadowing the street team tonight, actually,” Trinity says. Hopefully this will keep them clear of each other for a couple of days. The thought annoys her. They had a nice movie-watching rhythm.
“Oh!” Mel says. “That’s really lovely. It’s so rewarding to help people who are in a situation you’ve been in. At least, I’ve found that to be the case.”
The fact that this is, uh, what, tactless in its way but also kinda cute to say makes Trinity smile. “Yeah. Since we started at the shitshow I’ve had the same experience.”
“Have you, really?”
It takes Trinity a second to realize Mel wants her to elaborate.
“Oh,” Trinity says, drawing it out so it sounds more like eww. “Uh. I’d rather not talk about it, actually.”
A crease forms in Mel’s brow. “No, of course, I’m, I’m so sorry–”
Trinity heads it off at the pass: “No worries, Pink Ranger.”
It’s a little silly that she could talk about it with that fucking kid, who she didn’t want to die, but not Mel, who she knows would never say anything to anyone and is also one of the nicest people who’s ever lived or some stupid superlative.
The crease disappears, Mel smiles at her. “Why do you call people so many nicknames?” Mel asks.
Trinity blows out a breath. “Amusing myself, I guess.”
“I don’t think everyone likes it.”
“I know,” she says. “Also they can suck my dick and balls, so.”
Mel shakes her head a little. “You know,” she says, and she almost seems a little mischievous, “people say you’re kind of a bully.”
“No shit. Who’s people?”
“Just people,” Mel says, looking away. Her posture is tight but it’s tight all the time. Trinity’s eyes go down the line of her back, where she’s sitting tilted away from the couch, but Trinity’s not sure what draws her eye.
Then Mel says, “But I think you’re a good friend.”
“Okay, the bully thing is closer to true.”
Mel presses her mouth together. “I want you to know, I figured out after a while you were trying to be mean to me,” she says. “Actually, um, I guess it hasn’t even been that long of a time, really?”
Shit. “Uh,” Trinity says, articulately.
“But I think you wanted someone to keep trying to get past that. Right? I mean, just, you remind me of me a little bit. I think we’re around the same age but I was like that when I was younger in a different way. I wanted people to make an effort to talk to me but I didn’t want to talk to them. And if you’ve been there, easy to diagnose from the outside. And, haha, diagnose is not a doctor joke.”
Trinity stares at her. She says, “No idea what the fuck you want me to say to any of that.”
“Nothing, I guess. That’s okay,” Mel says. Then she says, “Also. I wanted to talk to you about the thing I was talking to you about the other day?”
Oh, of course. Trinity sighs. There’s something she’s been putting off saying about this.
“Mel,” she says, “I turned Langdon in.”
Mel didn’t know this, and her shock is clear. She opens and closes her mouth. Then she says, “Oh.”
“I’m, uh,” Trinity says. “Actually, I can’t say sorry because I was right. I am sorry it upset you and that he crashed at your house, and I know you guys became really tight really fast. But he was a raging dick to me. So I did it a tiny bit because of that. But I also did it because he put patients in danger and tried to cover his shithead tracks badly. Sorry. I shouldn’t have called him like two names just now.”
At some point while she’s saying this, Mel has looked down again. Mel takes a deep breath, closes her eyes for a second, then says, “You did the right thing.”
What the fuck. “Really?” Trinity says, in full disbelief. “This guy’s, like, your weird older brother.” Who is possibly being inappropriate with you.
“People you love can make mistakes,” Mel says, shrugging. “I make a lot of mistakes and my sister still loves me.”
Trinity thinks that it's probably not true that Mel makes a lot of mistakes, which is a weird thought. Also, love, strong word for Dr. No I Swear the Cap is Just Fucked and This Guy Needs an Above-Use Dose for His Fucking Seizure. But that’s Mel’s business. Seems like Mel takes to people easily.
“That’s a wholesome way of looking at the world,” Trinity says.
“It’s not a way of looking at the world,” Mel says. “It’s how the world is.”
Trinity thinks of something else that must also be relevant. “I also blabbed that Whitaker was homeless to everyone so maybe I won’t actually keep your secrets, sorry.”
Mel squints at her. “What? What, why would you do that?”
It’s hard to pin down, but Mel has a quality that lets Trinity be maybe more honest than she would be otherwise. So she says, “I think because I was so pissed that everyone was misunderstanding what was happening and wouldn’t stop making stupid fucking jokes about it.” Of course, that’s really childish. Trinity is pretty childish. Her bad.
“Not actually a reason,” Mel says, kind of doing a weighing the options gesture with her head, “but, you know, understandable. I really hate when people won’t stop making jokes about something that’s upsetting me.”
Trinity smiles at her. “You’re such a softie. You’re like look at me, I’m Dr. Mel King, everyone is secretly a good person.”
“I do think that’s mostly true,” Mel says, shrugging. “With exceptions.”
What a weird chick.
They drink their ciders for a second. Mel finally says, “I don’t think Frank is going to rehab. Yet, at least.”
Trinity raises her brows. “That blows,” she says. “Is he still in his own home?”
“For now,” Mel says. “But, you know, recovery isn’t linear. I mean, people can be several years into sobriety and have problems. It’s a disease.”
“Yeah,” Trinity says. “That’s nice and all, but other people have to deal with their evil fuckups, right?”
Mel shrugs. “People do a lot of things that are…shitty, you know, when they’re in a lot of pain. Physically or mentally, I guess?”
And Trinity does know that that much is true.
After a moment, Mel says, “Hey, Dr. Santos?”
Trinity’s head turns towards her. Weird to be addressed as Dr. Santos during a slightly unchill hang, but okay. “What’s up?”
Mel leans in and kisses her.
The ciders wind up back on the table because they go down on the couch, Mel on top of Trinity. They’re kissing and kissing and after a second Trinity is like, oh shit I could put my tongue in her mouth, and then her tongue is in Mel’s mouth, and Mel makes a noise that sounds kind of panicked or pained but in a good way, and Trinity puts her hand in Mel’s hair that is down and a blonde curtain around them, and then Trinity thinks, wait what the fuck, and breaks away.
“Wait,” she says, “what the fuck.”
Her heart is pounding, breathing fucked, she should go to their ER. On top of that, she can really see the brown of Mel’s eyes, her stubbly little eyelashes, the latter of which delivers a weird surge of feeling.
“Oh,” Mel says. “Are you…you’re not attracted to me?”
Trinity opens and closes her mouth. She realizes she doesn’t know when Mel took her glasses off.
Then she doesn’t think of what she’s saying before she says it, this is always getting her into shit: “I didn’t know I was?”
But Mel smiles, maybe a little shaky. “Usually I don’t figure that out for people.”
“Because you’re Autistic,” Trinity says, smartly.
“Yeah, exactly right,” Mel says. At this, Trinity pulls Mel’s face back down.
They haven’t been doing this nearly long enough when Trinity doesn’t even register the sounds in the background that are the front door opening, but Mel does and springs up, nearly hopping with it. Trinity, dazed, but grinning for some reason, is still horizontal when the door starts to open. Shit. She sits up.
Whitaker says, with apparent pleased surprise, “Oh, hey, King,” then he says, “hey, Santos,” like she had not, again, called him homeless in front of their colleagues today.
“Hey, Whitaker,” Mel says, very cheerfully, maybe too cheerfully. She's sitting back on the couch.
Trinity meanwhile blinks at him. “Is this how long the street team is out?” Her face still feels hot but it’s whatever.
“No,” Whitaker says, and then he sighs, hanging up his jacket. “There was a shooting in the area, we had to clear it. Apparently some kind of argument. Except, uh, one person had a gun.”
“Jesus,” Trinity says, aware of Mel’s urgent concern out of the corner of her eye. “Everyone on the team made it out?”
“Yes,” he says. “The people we were trying to help were not all in great shape, though.” He shakes his head. “Got a few people stabilized with EMTs en route, though. So I guess it was good we were there.”
“It is,” Mel says. “Definitely.”
“Uh,” Whitaker says, then, “sorry, are you hanging out for a while? Could I…could I join? I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep any time soon.”
Trinity’s mouth is open but before she can say anything, Mel says, “Of course! I got ciders, there’s some more in the fridge if you want?”
Whitaker seems so, so relieved. “Thanks,” he says, and goes to get one. He calls, “Oh, I really need to clean the kitchen, sorry, Trin.”
Oh my god no one has been around for him to call her Trin ever. Sometimes she calls him Den since she discovered his first name is Dennis. This cannot leave their apartment.
Trinity feels like she's batshit insane, but, whatever. She leans back on the couch. Mel is looking at her, and looks a little amused, somehow? But before either of them can speak, Whitaker is back. He sits on the other side of Mel.
“Are we watching a movie?” he asks.
Trinity was only ambiguously going to get some pussy tonight, and it is now for sure not happening so that’s pretty sad. So she says, “Yeah, all right. Suggestions?”
“Something we all haven’t seen?” Mel says.
Whitaker nods, and takes initiative to find something that fits the bill. Trinity wonders if she can call him sexist about this. Also why isn’t he upset at her? She never asked, but he’s just flipping through the streamers on her littleish TV.
As he does, Mel, next to her, nearly startles Trinity by taking her hand. This makes her look down at their hands, then back up at Mel's face. Mel smiles. Her eyes, back behind her glasses, are sparkling.
I’m boned as shit, Trinity thinks.