Here’s the thing: Trinity Santos knows the difference between bruises and hickeys.
As a medical intern, she's trained in identifying bruises, and as a single lesbian living in the 21st century, she has given her fair share of hickeys (and received them). So, she can safely call herself an expert in this area.
She also knows her roommate. Or, she would like to believe she knows her roommate. After living together for a few weeks now, she has gotten to know Huckleberry. Which is why it caused such a big impact on her when she saw it on his neck.
She knows that Whitaker is not the type of guy who would have a hickey on his neck. He’s too nervous and fidgety to just casually hook up with someone. Not to mention the fact that they usually go home together and too tired to go out after a long shift. It would be difficult for Whitaker to find time for flings.
And yet, he has one on his neck.
She only saw it briefly when he got blood all over his scrubs, and he had to change in the locker room.
“He has a hickey.” She blurted at no one in particular in the break room.
“Who?” Javadi asked, looking up from her food.
"Right,” Javadi laughs loudly as she goes back to eating her lunch.
“No, really.” Santos insisted as she sat next to Javadi. “I saw one when he was changing his scrubs.”
"It’s Whitaker,” Javadi said over a mouthful of salad. “It could be a bruise. You know how clumsy he could be.”
Santos knows how clumsy her roommate could be, having seen him fall and spill various liquids on himself. But, she knows it's a hickey. So, she spent the rest of her lunch break claiming and insisting that it was a hickey to Javadi, who spent the whole time tuning her out.
She knows she's right. She just needs to figure out who gave Whitaker the hickey.
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