#anywhere

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Mrs. Smyth kisses Katrina on the cheek as she pulls into the drive outside her dad's house. The sprawling lawn is dotted cheerfully with autumn leaves, and with a few of Frankie's toys - quite different from the parking lot and buzzer-entry that serves as the front entrance to the apartment she and her mother share.

"I know you said you wanted to spend the day with me, honey, but your father really wanted you here for Thanksgiving. It means a lot to them, and we'll all have Christmas together, right?"

A platter of mashed sweet potatoes is a warm spot on Katrina's lap, freshly made and covered with foil.

"I guess..." Teenage mumble.

"That's my girl." A hug across the car, laughing as the platter and the stickshift are jostled. "I'll be fine visiting your Nan."

The senior center where her grandmother-on-mom's-side lives is holding a pot-luck dinner, but as Nan insisted earlier, on the phone 'You'll have more fun with your Dad and family then with a group of old farts like me." It's a bit of a drive, too.

"Now, you should have everything you need for the night, and your room is all made up, Dad told me. You know they want you to stay over..." Mom relents, adding, "But if you really, really don't want to stay, you can take an Uber home after dinner, okay? I should be home before midnight, even with the drive."

"Okay. Kiss Nan for me. Even if I don't like smooches, she does."

"You're getting off light." Mom grins. "She's gonna pinch me black and blue and say I need to eat more. And that's besides how she's going to leave me high and dry in that poker game she always manages to set up." The Senior home technically frowns on gambling, but Nan is clever and sassy (bordering on salty, plus there's the swearing!), and finds ways to get around all of the rules. Such as pointing out that Bingo is technically gambling as well, and WHAT A FUSS if they tried to get rid of THAT!

Then there was the time that Nan realized that the same company that made the mobility scooters also made engines for dirtbikes, and installed a 110cc engine on a Rascal...

It occurs to Katrina that she might need to chat more with Nan soon.

Could she be...?!?

But no, today is Dad. And Frankie.

And Janice.

The front door opens, and a boy with pale freckled skin and a head of riotous, tightly curled and yet BRIGHT red ginger hair comes barreling out, shouting, "TRINAAAA!" In childish glee.

Behind him, Janice stands in the doorway, and she calls after him, "Stay out of the street, Frankie!!" Dad appears behind her, and the three appear for a moment framed as a model family. Dad with his red hair starting to sprinkle with grey in what Janice calls, "Salt-n-paprika", Janice with her creamy cocoa complexion and short tight curls, and Frankie as a mix of the two.

"Frankie-stein!" Trina grins and swoops up the boy in her arms.

A spin in the air before she sets him down. "Hi Dad. Janice."

Janice steps over and gives Trina a tentative smile. "So glad to see you. Can I take your bag, that dish? We have your room all set up." As Dad leans in the window of the sedan and chats amiably with Mom.

"It's sweet potato."

A bigger smile, this is comfortable territory. Everyone loves food. "Sounds perfect. Let's get that in the oven to stay warm as we finish up the fixins."

The get together is barely enough to call that - just the four of them. Dad's family lives out a few states away, aunt and uncle, a passel of cousins that are mostly a Christmas card list... and Janice's end... well, they've never come for the holidays, not that Trina can remember.

That didn't stop the table from being filled, though! The dining room could easily host a table for 12, but even with the leaf not pulled out there will be enough on the table for a football team, or so it seems to Trina.

Frankie is tugging Trina inwards. "I gotta show you my beyblades!" Which seem to be some sort of action figure.

Intriguing smells come from the kitchen... something warm and spicy, and not quite traditional?

Dad is meandering towards the living room, only to get snagged by Janice. "Oh no you don't. No football until AFTER the table is set, eaten, and cleared, mister."

"Beyblades? Yeah, cool..." She allows him to lead, mostly ignoring the adults.

Frankie is excited - it's a holiday, there's no school, and his COOL SISTER with the COOL hair is here!

"And... and THIS is STORM PEGASUS with a pegasus energy ring, but then you add this piece and it's STORM FUSION WHEEL and it turns into the..." It all swims through her head, but luckily Frankie doesn't seem apt to test her on it, he is just thrilled to show his toys off.

Apparently it's a collectable and the little pieces have a rip cord that sends the top-type toy whirring across the floor!

"Uh-huh. Yeah? Storm fusion, wow!"

Good thing there's no test, but he's happy and she loves him. It works out.

VRRRRRR! Now, if she had some basic hexbug servos, she could make one of those controllable like a little battle bot... Probably not in the pure intention of the 'game', but it occurs to her she could rebuild the toy! Better, stronger, faster! 20% more awesome!

She does notice that a stack of the toys is shoved into a corner and not being pulled out. Pink, purple, magenta with swirls of bright cheery blue. But they're being left behind in favor of the other colors.

She reaches out to pick up a purple one. "What's this one do?"

He grins for a moment, but then his expression goes sour and he shakes his head. "Those are stupid. They're GIRL colors." Though he reaches out and runs a finger along one.

SNORT.

"Who said that?"

"Jaden, from school." He has a bit of a sulk in his tone. "I tried to tell him that these ones, it's Team Rose Rage and they come with a launcher with flames on it... but he says it's dumb. He only has the blue set." Frankie, on the other hand, has at least a half-dozen sets.

"I told him he could borrow my turbo rose shock arena 'cuz he doesn't have one and he told me it was stupid."

"Jaden sounds stupid."

"Like, he wants to throw away half the colors because he only likes blue?" She rolls her eyes. "What, is he afraid of cooties? What a scaredy baby."

"He's my friend...." Frankie protests, but he can't help stifle a giggle. "Cooties?!"

"Giiiirrrrrllllll cooties."

"I mean, I have orange hair - does that make it a girl color?"

"No! And you're not a .... I mean, you're... you're cool! And I have orange hair too! We match!"

"We do!"

"AND, I'm a girl."

"I GUESS." He giggles. "Then... do you want to play storm caller, and I can be rose rage? They're BOTH cool.... right?"

"They are totally both cool."

Thus reassured, he shows Trina how to spin the tops, and soon little plastic and metal bits and busily whirring and clashing toghether in a shoebox-sized 'arena'!

"I'll tell Jaden he's wrong, and if he says otherwise, he's a cootie head." Clearly, anything Trina says is gospel.

"Prepare for your destruction, mua-haha!" As she unleashes one.

VRRR! TINK! TINK! CHIME!

Wait... chime?

"Yeah! He is, but, well, maybe he just has to learn better."

Oh shoot...

A never has popped out of the toybox! Wielding a little plastic sword from some fantasy figurine, it alights in the middle of the arena, and chimes a challenge at the spinning beyblade that is careening towards it!

Brow furrows. Why are they here?

Thinking back, she realizes that rather than pick out times when she's accompanied, it's the rare times when she's alone that stand out. When did the never's presence become second nature?

Hiding in her saddlebags, playing in the sink when she dyes her hair, playing hide-and-leaf in the woods, darting in and out of cabinets as Mom cooks, a playful hide and seek that isn't bothered by the fact that she can't actually see them...

They're pretty much always around these days, except when she's at school.

Frankie reaches up a hand to scratch at his head suddenly, and a giggling pixyish sprite buzzes away after having tugged curiously at his curls.