School had been even more of a nightmare than usual. Kira and Ethan had welcomed Trent with open arms, even deciding to let him sit with them. Conner had responded by sitting with his old friends, but something had seemed wrong. Jokes he used to find funny weren’t, talk he used to enjoy bored him, and people who he used to like just annoyed him. He kept thinking of something to ask Ethan, or tell Kira, only to look up and realize they were on the other side of the classroom.

All Trent’s fault.

By the time the final bell rang he was already in a bad mood, and not even an hour of soccer practice could make him feel better. He’d been off, and he knew it: his crosses into the box too high, his shots at the goal going wide . . . coach had hinted he wasn’t giving it his full dedication, that perhaps he needed to stop missing so many practices.

The sight of Trent sitting on the front steps, watching the car park, didn’t improve his temper any further. He veered away, heading to his car as quickly as possible, seeing Trent stand up out the corner of his eye.

“Conner? Can I talk to you a second?” Trent caught up to him just as he reached his car, stretching out a hand to stop him opening the door and escaping.

Conner scowled, refusing to look at him. “I doubt you’ll be able to say much in a second.”

Trent just sighed. “Conner, I know you don’t trust me, but . . . I promise you, I’m telling the truth. The dino gem has no more power over me.”

Conner glanced at it, white and innocent on Trent’s wrist. If Trent took it off, then maybe Conner would start believing him. Until then . . . “You said that before.”

“It wasn’t me! It was the gem. Conner, I’m so sorry—”

“You said that before too.”

“No. The gem did.” Trent didn’t even sound upset, just someone patiently reciting a fact to a child who couldn’t understand. Conner felt himself tense in anger, spinning round to face Trent fully.

“How do I know? You pretended to be good before, remember? And then you betrayed us. Not to mention the fact that you didn’t exactly rush to tell us in the first place.”

“I did as soon as I knew who you were! And it was the Dino gem that made me betray you and do everything I did. Not me!” Finally, Trent’s voice held some emotion. “Conner, can’t you tell the difference? I would never have acted like that. Never.”

Conner looked away. Just because Trent looked upset, didn’t mean he should start feeling sympathetic. “I can’t tell. Maybe you should think about what that means.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” said Trent, voice expressionless again. “Conner . . . we’re going to be fighting together, on the same team. Why can’t you trust me? The others do. Even Dr. Oliver.”

He hadn’t started using ‘Dr. O’ yet. Conner felt glad. He didn’t want Trent to use the nickname. ‘Dr. Oliver’ marked him out as different, not one of them. “They shouldn’t trust you.”

Trent sighed again, letting his hand drop so Conner could open the car door. “What can I do to convince you I’m not evil? That this isn’t just some trick?”

Conner didn’t pause to think about it. “Nothing.”

--

“I don’t think he is evil.”

Conner paused in mid-rant, turning to gape at Dr. O. “What?”

“I don’t think Trent’s evil. I understand where you’re coming from, but I don’t agree.”

“But . . . but . . . why?”

“Well, for one, he’s not trying to bribe us into trusting him. Two, he saved my life. Three, I trust my instincts—and they say he’s telling the truth.” Dr. O paused, watching Conner for a reaction. “What do your instincts tell you?”

“Dr. O, no offence, but my instincts aren’t exactly trustworthy. Not unless you count being wrong all the time as reliable.”

“That’s not true,” said Dr. O, and his voice sounded teacher-ish enough that Conner didn’t try to start listing examples. “And as to your requests—no, I am not going to kick him off the team, take away his morpher, forbid him from speaking to any of you again or abandon him in the middle of a desert.”

“But why?”

Dr. O raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Well, not the desert.” Though it did sound tempting. “And I suppose you couldn’t really forbid him from speaking to any of us again. But why not the first two?”

“Because I think we need him on the team.”

“Dr. O, he’s faking. I’m sure he is.”

“I’m not. I don’t think he is. And at the moment, I don’t think you’re the best judge of the situation.”

Conner gaped. Dr. O could be blunt, but he didn’t normally sound so . . . cold. “What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you’re letting your personal feelings get in the way of your duty as a ranger. Conner, a while ago, I told you that if Trent ever turned good again he would need your help. You promised you would give it; obviously, the situation since then has changed, and now you feel you can’t. But you can accept him as a member of this team.”

“I can’t.”

“So much you think you need to give up your morpher?”

Conner stared at him, unable to reply. Trent had been evil, Trent was the one probably betraying them to Mesogog and plotting their destruction, and Dr. O was asking Conner if he wanted to give up his morpher? “No.”

“I’m glad. Conner, Trent is a member of this team. We need him.”

“We managed fine without him.”

“Conner, we lost every time we faced him. What if Mesogog finds another ally—or makes a monster—as powerful as him?”

They lost. But even that seemed better than having Trent on the team.

But one look at Dr. O’s face told him that whatever he said, Trent was staying. Dr. O trusted Trent and thought they needed Trent, so Trent was on the team.

“Fine,” he muttered, grabbing his bag. “I’m out of here.”

--

Why did Trent have to be so nice? Every time Conner turned around, there he was: helping Hayley, doing homework with Ethan, listening to Kira sing . . . always with the unspoken offer that if Conner asked, they could be friends too. Things could go back to the way they had been before, if Conner was willing to forget like the others.

Then there was the touching. Conner didn’t know if Trent had been a physical person before, but he seemed it now. Touching Conner’s shoulder to get attention, hitting Conner’s arm when Conner was trying to insult him, walking next to Conner and letting their hands brush together . . . it was driving Conner mad. Every touch made him jump and jerk away, and all of them seemed branded on his memory. It had gotten to the point where he almost twitched every time Trent looked at him.

He led Kira and Ethan into the Cyberspace, walking straight to the bar and purposefully not looking around for Trent. If the other boy was there—which he almost certainly was—Conner didn’t want to know.

Ethan sat at the bar next to him, grinning at Hayley. “Someone looks pretty happy today.”

“Oh, hey.” Hayley grinned at them, turning away from the till. She did look happy. “It’s just so good to have Trent back.”

Figured. “Yeah, with the new attitude adjustment he’s almost likeable.” The key word being ‘almost’.

Hayley glared at him, and someone hit his side from behind. Low on his side, almost his hip. Conner jerked away into Ethan, who elbowed him back as Trent walked past, ignoring Conner’s glare. “I heard that,” he said, before turning to Hayley. “Two more Cyber-berry Blasts, please.”

And Conner wouldn’t have been as nice if he’d known Trent was in hearing distance. “So, how’s it going?” he asked. Decided to betray us to Mesogog again yet? With both Kira and Hayley looking at him like that, he decided not to say it out loud.

Trent just grinned. “Fantastic. I feel like a new man.”

“We’re just glad the old man is back,” said Kira. Ethan, the traitor, nodded. “You’re one of us now,” Kira continued, giving Conner a pointed glance. “No more secrets.”

“You’re right,” said Trent, picking up the tray and carrying it off. Kira smiled after him, before turning to Conner with a look he guessed was supposed to be casual.

“So, Conner,” she said. “You doing anything this weekend?”

“Why?”

“Maybe I just want to know if you’re busy.”

“You’ve never asked before.”

Ethan interrupted their argument before it could properly begin. “Dr. O suggested we go paint-balling as a team-bonding thing. Just the four of us, I mean, Dr. O wouldn’t come. But he offered to pay, since it’s like a . . . thing. So, you want to come?”

Ethan was as good at being subtle as Kira. Or maybe they just both thought he was too stupid to work it out. Neither of them were the type to suggest paint-balling as a fun activity, he couldn’t see Trent bringing it up, and Dr. O had never encouraged them to do ‘team-bonding’ activities before. Team-bonding could just as easily be done while he kicked them around the training mat, after all.

Out of all of them, Conner was the one who would enjoy paint-balling most. Conner was also the one who currently hated another member of the team. It couldn’t be more obvious this was aimed at him.

Which meant there was no chance he’d go.

“I can’t. I’m busy.”

“With what?” Kira cried, sounding indignant. “You don’t have any soccer!”

How did she know? He glanced at Ethan, who was glaring at her. Of course. Derrick. He had been pleased about the strange new friendship between Derrick and Ethan—until now.

“Yeah,” said Ethan, trying to cover. “You never have soccer on Sundays, right? We can go then.”

“I can’t,” he said, searching for an excuse. Anything.

“You don’t have to visit your brother, and he’s not coming to see you,” said Kira, dropping any pretence that they’d not planned this. “You haven’t got any big projects for school, you’ve not got a girlfriend at the minute, Derrick doesn’t think you’ve got any plans with anyone from either of your teams . . .”

Ethan buried his head in his hands. “Way to persuade him to come, Kira.”

“What? He’s being stupid. If it wasn’t for Trent, he’d be happy to come!”

Conner glanced over at Trent, praying the other boy couldn’t hear. Luckily, Trent looked distracted by customers . . . and even more luckily, he spotted a familiar leaflet, pinned on the wall by the table Trent was serving. “Krista’s protest.”

“What?” Kira gaped at him. “I didn’t think you were serious about that!”

Ethan looked between them. “What? Who’s Krista?”

“Krista’s this girl at school,” explained Kira. “I have no idea how Conner knows her, because she’s really . . . well, she’s into saving the environment, and organizing protests against trees being cut down, and trying to get people to recycle things . . . and she’s invited Conner on a protest to save this park.”

Ethan looked just as shocked as Kira. “Excuse me? Conner’s going off to save some trees instead of paint-balling?” He turned to Conner. “You must really hate Trent, bro.”

Kira gritted her teeth. “Conner, stop being stupid. Come paint-balling. Dr. O wants you too, and he’s not going to believe you want to go on some silly protest.”

“Yeah,” agreed Ethan. “Conner, just come.”

--

Dr. O smiled, looking surprised but pleased. “You know, my friends and I used to do stuff like that all the time when we were younger.

He should have figured that Dr. O would have been a geek. A geek who could beat people up, sure, but still a geek. “So you don’t mind? Only she invited me before I knew about the paint-balling.”

“Of course I don’t mind. You can all go another time.”

Great. Just what Conner wanted. “Sure, Dr. O. Another time.”

--

Trent couldn’t believe it. When Kira had mentioned the paint-balling, he’d entertained hopes of finally breaking through the wall between him and Conner. Kira had been full of plans that involved her and Ethan disappearing, leaving him to talk to Conner, hopefully while the other boy was relaxed and happy after a few hours enjoying himself.

And Conner had decided to go on a protest instead? To save a few hedges?

He didn’t know Krista very well, only that Conner now sat next to her in math. He remembered seeing them talking, heads together.

Kira said she wasn’t Conner’s type, but he wasn’t sure Kira really knew what Conner’s type was. The other boy had mostly dated cheerleaders and such, but that was before he’d become a Power Ranger, before he’d made friends with Kira and Ethan, before he’d met Trent.

Krista might be exactly Conner’s type.

--