Mighty Morphin Power Rangers by Heather Ray (read full novel .TXT) 📖

provide physically and mentally disciplined candidates with the technical and psychological training they'd need to staff the space colony, tentatively named Terra Venture. Also, the actual ship itself was already complete, and was ready for the first stages of testing.

However, other than the actual staff of Terra Venture, who should be allowed the opportunity to migrate to this New World? There was only enough room on the ship for approximately three hundred civilians, but how would the selection be made?

That was what the New World Conference was to determine. And that was why Trini found herself in Angel Grove.

The conference would span one week, and would include a variety of meetings in both Angel Grove, the home of NASADA, as well as Los Angeles. This week of meetings immediately followed a lengthy conference in Geneva, at the World Peace Conference headquarters, and would conclude in New York, in the United Nations. But now, the delegates were to familiarize themselves with Terra Venture itself, and the challenge ahead for the people selected to join the crew.

Trini had arrived in Angel Grove for the conference, but she couldn't resist a quick lunch stop at the Youth Center... which was now the Surf Spot. But, was it possible that deep down, she was hoping she'd still find Richie wiping down the countertops?

It was truly ludicrous to think so, especially since Zack had heard from his cousin Curtis that Richie was accepted into Georgetown after graduation. It wasn't even likely he still lived in Angel Grove.

Still, since his brother was in Angel Grove, perhaps she'd be able to get a phone number to reach him?

It was only two o'clock after all, and according to her itinerary her day was free until five that evening, for a dinner and discussion panel at the Civic Center. It was totally conceivable she could get Richie's number from Paul, or perhaps even drop by his office if he works in town...

"Dear God," she moaned, grasping her forehead, "I'm not that

desperate!"

"I'm sorry?" Paul said, frowning slightly as he rested the large glass on the counter. Trini's eyes leapt from the itinerary, and her lips pursed with contained embarrassment as she slid the sheet back into her briefcase.

"Just thinking aloud," she confessed, an embarrassed smile peaking out despite her attempt to hide it.

"Your platter'll be out in a sec," Paul said, leaning against the counter casually. He watched Trini take a sip from her milkshake, and shrugged his eyebrows when she glanced up at him.

"It's terrific," she confessed, "Fresh bananas and everything."

Paul grinned proudly. "Richie showed me how it was done after he worked here a few months. But he landed a job in the mailroom at the Angel Grove Gazette during his spring break that year, and worked there through the rest of high school. It ate up a lot of his time, but he did get the chance to actually work on the paper... helping with the layout, running errands for the reporters and stuff."

"That's wonderful," Trini commented with a genuine smile, "So, did he go to Georgetown?"

"Yep, he studied there for five years. Submatriculated, and got his Master's degree in Journalism. All that work at the Gazette really got him into journalism, and newspaper publishing."

"I'm glad he found such a clear goal," Trini stated, a thoughtful expression on her face. She glanced up at Paul timidly, before dropping her gaze back to her shake.

"So," she ventured, playing with the straw idly, "where'd he end up? DC?"

"Nah," Paul muttered, wrinkling his nose slightly, "Richie hated it out there. Too much hustle and bustle. He likes living the slow-paced life."

"He always did like nature," Trini recalled, speaking more to herself than her companion, "He'd go roller-blading, bike riding, or even hiking." She cleared her throat, forcing herself to stop immersing her mind in half-faded memories and anchor herself in the present. "So, where is he now?" she repeated, trying her best not too appear too anxious for the information.

Her nervous, forced smile was met by an amused grin from the teen. "He's in Angel Grove. He's a reporter for the Angel Grove Gazette."

Paul looked up when a portly woman with long braids waved at him from the kitchen. "One second, Adelle!" he called, before leaning again to Trini. "I'll be right back."

Trini bit her lip, absently stirring her milkshake and staring into the whirlpool of thick ice cream. She couldn't believe it... Richie was still in Angel Grove! She could conceivably pay him a visit, if for nothing else than to rekindle a worthwhile friendship. And... who knows? Perhaps she had a second chance to start something that should've begun eight years ago?

Her teeth were still thoughtfully clamped over her bottom lip when Paul placed her meal before her.

"Thanks a lot," she said, reaching for the ketchup.

"By the way, Richie should be in the office all day today," Paul whispered, "The Gazette's on Kennedy Pike, about half a mile from Stone Canyon. I'll see you around, Trini."

Trini smiled, and watched Paul return to the kitchen. She then turned her attention to her lunch, slowly chewing the sandwich as a dozen questions raced through her mind in a panicked flurry.

What if he's married? What are the chances that someone like Richie would be alone for so long? Guys like him don't stay single... that just doesn't make sense. Especially if he's got such a great job, with terrific prospects for the future. Would he even remember her? True, even his younger brother was able to recall her name, but Paul had said that Richie "talked" a lot about her. Past tense. Obviously, she wasn't the foremost thing on his mind.

What did she expect from him? That he would sit and wait for her, as she wandered around the world? And even if he was still single, and even if he still was interested, where could their relationship possibly lead? She still lived and worked in Geneva, and he was in Angel Grove. Things were exactly the same as they were in high school... only their present locations were more permanent.

She knew she couldn't expect him to fall in love with her. She didn't even know what he really felt about her in high school. Still, she couldn't quench that flicker of hope that still warmed her heart, no matter how much cold logic she could try to douse it with. The flicker remained, and she couldn't just ignore it.

Chapter Three

I still believe, someday you and me,
Will find ourselves in love again.
I had a dream, someday you and me,
Will find ourselves in love again.

"I really must be losing my mind," Trini muttered under her breath as she fished through her wallet. She passed the money over the front seat to the driver.

"Thanks, ma'am, and have a nice stay in Angel Grove."

Trini smiled her thanks, and slid out of the yellow cab. She stood still on the sidewalk, both hands tightly grasping her leather suitcase. Her eyes trailed along the silver letters that spelled The Angel Grove Gazette, and then fell to the glass doors sliding open and closed just two yards away from her.

Richie was somewhere in that building, and the very thought made her shiver with a strange mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

I'm going to look so foolish, parading into the building like this,

she realized, as she took a timid step forward. That one step was followed closely by another, and soon she was walking smoothly into the building at a regular pace.

There was no point in shrinking back now. If nothing else, this encounter would put a final answer to the question that had been floating in and out of her mind for eight years.

What if?

It was amazing how thoughts of Richie had impeded her romantic life ever since. They never even had a relationship

, and she only knew him for two weeks or so. Still, every time she had been approached by a man since, she kept wondering... what if she did get another chance with Richie? What if she was only ruining her chances of happiness if she allowed herself to fall in love with someone else?

What if Richie was "the one"

that was her perfect match? She never really put much faith in such romantic fantasies- that was always Daydreamin' Kim's department. But still, what if it were true? Could she risk losing happiness?

These questions, on the nature of romantic love and her feelings for Richie, could be maddening at times. An answer... any

answer was preferable to the void that is her future, in which anything is possible.

If nothing else, she wanted to eliminate a few possibilities.

"Welcome to the Angel Grove Gazette," the elderly receptionist stated, glancing over her desk at Trini, "How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Richard Hasada, but I'm afraid I don't know his extension."

"And who may I ask is looking for him?"

Trini paused for a moment. "A friend from high school," she decided.

The receptionist smiled instantly at Trini's response. "Richie is such a sweetheart," she commented, pulling her phone off the hook, "He always asks me if I want anything when he goes to lunch..."

Trini waited anxiously as the receptionist made the call, yet a warm smile spread onto her lips at the thought of Richie's innate kindness.

"I'm sorry, but he's away from his desk. Should I leave a message?"

Trini pursed her lips in thought. She knew she wouldn't be able to build up the courage to come back, and she also knew how awkward it would be to just leave him a message.

"Is there any way I can wait for him?" she asked, shuffling her feet slightly with anxiety.

"Is it that important? I could page him-"

"No!" Trini said abruptly, "I mean, it's not that important. But I'm staying in Angel Grove for a short time, and I was hoping I could touch base with him before my schedule gets hectic."

The receptionist nodded with understanding. "Well, I don't think he's at lunch, so he must be around somewhere. You could wait at his desk if you'd like. He's on the eleventh floor, east wing. His name's on the wall of the cubicle."

Trini nodded, her grip once again tightening around her briefcase handle. "Thank you very much," she said, stepping towards the elevator.

After a few seconds, Trini stepped out on the eleventh floor. The room was a virtual maze of cubicles, but each wall was only about four feet high, so the occupants wouldn't feel so caged. Trini slowly perused the names on the side of each cubicle, carefully avoiding the racing reporters that hurried around the newsroom. Finally,