one day during handoffs, maybe two months after the fourth of july, emery walsh corners one rather alarmed trinity santos and directly asks, “do you like her?”
“what?”
“do you like yolanda? do you have feelings for her?”
and trinity’s face promptly turns beet red.
“so, that’s a yes. good. will you tell her?”
“i’m sorry?”
“for the love of all things holy, will you please tell her you have feelings for her? confess, or whatever? if i have to listen to her talk about your big green eyes and the way you cling to her in your sleep like you want her to stay even though you don’t even one more time, i’m going to lose my fucking mind.”
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sometimes i think about santos inviting whitaker to live with her and sacrificing her sense of safety to do so. never sleeping with her bedroom door unlocked, no matter how much time passes and how much she comes to trust him.
i will never forgive the writers of the pitt for not having garcia come up to the roof during the fireworks, stand behind santos, wrap her arms around her, whisper a little “i’m sorry,” and kiss the crook of her neck. never.
one night in late june, at the tail end of her intern year, trinity finds yolanda standing at her locker, waiting for her. it isn’t a rare sight, but it makes trinity’s heart skip a beat all the same.
moments ago, all trinity wanted to do was go home. to collapse in her bed and sleep. now, she doesn’t care where she ends up.
thirty minutes later, she’s at a bar with yolanda and two of her friends. the four of them are tucked away in a booth in the back, with yolanda’s friends—maya and rachel—sitting on one side and trinity sitting half in yolanda’s lap on the other.
it’s a rather public display of affection for two people who have only ever claimed to be casual, but trinity doesn’t register that.
what she does register is yolanda’s laugh, yolanda’s hand in her hair, yolanda absentmindedly tracing her tattoos, yolanda yolanda yolanda.
she also registers when all that is gone, when yolanda is suddenly stiff as she returns from the bathroom. trinity slides back into the booth, but yolanda doesn’t reach for her, doesn’t pull trinity back on top of her.
trinity almost asks, “what’s wrong?”
she does not.
things are awkward, even when they go back to yolanda’s apartment and do what it is they always do. especially then, especially when trinity swears she hears yolanda sniffle while she’s eating her out.
this time, she stops and asks, “what’s wrong?”
yolanda insists that it’s nothing and tells her to carry on.
trinity doesn’t find out for a long time that, in those two minutes she spent in the bathroom, maya and rachel told yolanda that she was in love with her situationship, citing in particular the way that she traced the little heart on trinity’s shoulder, perfectly outlining the shape without ever looking at it.
months later, when yolanda explains her sudden distance that night, trinity says, “well, that was kind of mean of them to do.”
yolanda laughs. “but it was true. i knew immediately that it was true. i loved you.”
for a moment, trinity forgets how to breathe. she only remembers when yolanda reaches for her hand, squeezing one, two, three times.
sometimes i think about trinity having a spare room in her apartment as a way to honor a promise that can never be fulfilled. maybe as little kids, trinity and her best friend swore they’d live together—from college to forever, even after they found their future partners and got married. maybe the second bedroom is trinity getting as close to realizing that as reality allows.
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santos should’ve been in the room for garcia’s “i am the OR.” then, the reduction would’ve worked immediately, fueled by pure lesbianism and garcia’s desire to impress her girl. santos would’ve been drooling.
yolanda garcia and emery walsh both watch jeopardy! and are unreasonably competitive about it. they keep track of their scores, percentage of questions right and wrong, etc. and share these data points after each episode. emery beats yolanda about 60% of the time, and that drives yolanda insane.
at some point, yolanda ropes trinity in, and she quickly finds out that trinity is pretty good with pop culture and sports questions. emery finds out about her opponent cheating and forces samira, who she soon realizes knows a lot more about art history than one would ever suspect, to participate as well.
it becomes a whole thing, and they more than once have a double “date” in which it’s just the four of them at emery’s apartment competing in person. it’s way more serious than it should be.
