2 Works by tinitinitinitini
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“Teach me.”
That did take the surgical resident’s eyes off her phone. Yolanda turned toward her, confusion softening her expression.
“Perdón?”
“Teach me how to dance,” Trinity said, shifting her weight slightly under Yolanda’s gaze. “You always do it. I want to learn.”
A soft smile appeared on Yolanda’s face, lingering for only a second before it sharpened into something teasing. “You wanna add another scar to my foot?”
“I’m Filipina. I can dance,” Trinity shot back, confidence wobbling just enough to betray her.
Yolanda tilted her head, unimpressed. “If it’s anything like what I saw when we went out last week—”
“I was drunk,” Trinity cut in quickly, the words slipping out with a small whiny edge she immediately regretted.
Yolanda laughed, the sound easy and familiar, before reaching back to restart the song. Her phone landed somewhere on the couch without much thought as she turned toward Trinity again, extending an arm in silent invitation.
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Trinity Santos will never play under Him again. Hell, she would rather go to a a trophy-less team across the ocean than play in Manchester again. So that is where she is now: Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
A team in the midst of reconstruction: new players, a new coach, and a new owner. Anything would be better than Manchester, even if one of the captains believes she is nothing but trouble.