A short alternate universe story dedicated to Zutara Week 2008, Day One: Denim. Yes, I realize I am late, as I will be for every other Zutara Week entry I post from now until I finish them all.

This is also in late celebration of my doctor's clearance! I am now allowed on the computer and to play sports and be active again!

Just in case anyone is wondering, the ages of everyone have been squished together in order to fit the storyline. That being said, I know that Zuko and Azula are two years apart in the original series, but for the sake of this story, they are twins, born minutes apart, but in separate years. Sokka is only one year older than Katara, and Suki is the same age as Zuko, Azula, and Sokka.

Happy reading, I hope you enjoy it.

January 26, 2019

I've updated the story slightly. The main story line and plot are still the same, I just went back in to correct some spelling and grammar mistakes and hopefully align things so they make a bit more sense than the first draft. Since I can't seem to find any decent ideas for the other themes for any of the following Zutara Weeks at the moment, and because I've gotten a few requests, be prepared to expect some follow up stories for Zutara Week that will be linked to this one! But that won't be for a few chapters yet at least.

Once again, thank you for you patience! If you notice any errors in my writing, want more of one of your favourite excerpts in this collection, or just wanna shoot me a message, by all means, you're more than welcome to!

Running out the door of our whitewashed house, I sprinted the last few steps onto the bus. It was the first time I had had to catch the bus since my brother had passed his driver's licence test.

My older brother, Sokka, had decided that because it was now his senior year in high school, it wouldn't be "manly" if he showed up to school with his girlfriend in one seat and his baby sister in the other. Not that Suki would have cared if I rode with them, she was only a year older than me and we got along quite nicely. But no, my nut-brained brother would not stand for his junior of a sister to do anything that could potentially ruin his manly pride

Stupid Sokka.

Now, because of him, I had to catch the bus to school everyday. A bus that came to pick me up way too early in the morning, reeked of forgotten deodorant, sounded like children squeezing the life out of wailing cats, and hit every pot hole it possibly could. Four more months of torturous bus riding and I would finally be free.

Four more months and Sokka would be graduated, wearing the Artic Wolf sweaters in the dorms of North Cliff University, I would get a licence and the old truck, and I would be a senior.

People at our school were always excited to grow up and get out. Becoming a sophomore meant three more years of high school, one step closer to freedom. Passing your junior year meant one more year of high school and one final step to the ultimate freedom.

It wasn't that people absolutely hated our school -even if I did- they just hated school in general.

Freedom High's varsity soccer team was the top one in the division. Soccer was a major event for our school, because there was nothing else we could stand a chance at winning. No one even stood a chance against the Southern Tundra Polar Bear Dogs in hockey, the Ember Island Phoenixes dominated the volleyball courts, the Gaoling Public Badger Moles hadn't lost a baseball game yet -although how they managed to be a competitor in the first place when their number one pitcher was blind was beyond anyone's knowledge- and Saint Roku Preparatory Dragons were like a fire from hell on the basketball courts. Not that it mattered, soccer had a special place in our hearts at Freedom High. A special place that was temporarily being replaced with the general hype of today's upcoming basketball game against the reigning champions: Saint Roku Preparatory.

I stepped off the brightly coloured bus and made my way to the red brick school, noticing how posters of burgundy and white decorated the exterior walls -already cheering on our team that was leaving in an hour to the school of the Dragons- and readjusted the straps on both my backpack and gym bag. There was little doubt in my mind that we were going to lose. After all, even though we had a top notch player like Suki on our team, the Dragons were better. Every one of their players were as good as Suki. We just had her.

Suki and I were the only girls that passed try outs for the boys' basketball team after the girls' team folded. Suki wasn't on speaking terms with her friends for a few weeks after that happened. They were fine now, after a long explanation to their former captain that they had to quit because they couldn't handle all the sports and school work like she could. Suki forgave them. For the most part.

The wind whipped through my braided hair that I had tied earlier this morning. Great. All my skirts were in the laundry and now my hair is a mess too. I pulled the hood of my rain coat and tried to keep myself from stomping the rest of the way to the front entrance. Some morning.

I watched as teachers filed into the classroom, and other students that showed up early tried to find something to entertain themselves with before class began. Slowly, counting the steps after every corner and on each staircase, I made my way to my locker.

B. K. T. The rusty door hinges creaked open as I finished entering the combination, and I tossed my backpack onto the bottom and deposited my coat on the last surviving hook. Once Sokka graduated, I was going to transfer out of this place.

The only reasons we were both still stuck at Freedom High was because it was the only one that had a bus that stopped in our neighbourhood. Sokka could have drove us to another school once he got his licence, but when we tried to transfer, no one had room for juniors or seniors. They did, however, say they could potentially make an exception if I applied during the summer. As soon as my brother graduated and I got the truck, I was transferring to Southern Tundra and becoming a Polar Bear Dog.

Southern Tundra was where both of my parents had attended when they were younger. The closer I felt to my mother, the more at ease I believed my heart would be. I had never felt at peace at my current school like I would when I was at home or near water.

Thundering noises echoed off the walls of the dimly lit hallway and immediately the phrases "fight or flight" and "eat or be eaten" popped into my mind. As soon as my brain passed it's message to my feet, I bolted for the exit at the end of the hall. Run, Katara, run! You will not die from a herd of wild boys trying to trample you. To my luck, the bus scheduled to take the basketball team to Saint Roku Preparatory was waiting in the parking lot.

I had barely flung myself into the front seat of the bus before a hoard of smelly teenage boys were shoving themselves towards the back seats. Loud and already covered in sweat before our first game, the boys chuckled and joked about how much muscle they had gained since the last time we had faced the Dragons. Bound and determined that the muscle was what gave them every edge and advantage over our opponents, they whooped and hollered about how this game was "in the bag". Too bad for them, if we didn't have our ace in the hole, they couldn't have beat Omashu Elementary if they wanted to.

Suki, our proverbial basketball queen, glided effortlessly onto the bus and slid into the seat across from mine. Her baggy, camo, cargo capris and black tank top that showed off her toned arms and calves gave her a much more intimidating appearance than when she had my brother at her side. We waved to each other, and she opened her mouth to speak, before she was interrupted by a voice in the back.

"Hey, Katy!" One of the boys shouted as the bus lurched into motion. I peaked down the aisle to see that it was Jet, that captain of our team. "Where's your fancy skirts? Never seen you without 'em."

"Kah-tar-ah. It's not that hard, really, Jet," I said deliberately slow, carefully enunciating each syllable. The boys surrounding him began to laugh at his expense and elbow him until he glared at them all. "And it's called doing laundry -something you apparently still need to do."

He turned his attention back to me, a sly, smirk that left a sickening feeling in my stomach crept onto his lips. "Okay, fine. But, 'Tara, this ain't over."

I gave him a harsh glare of my own. It was never over with Jet. Once something was started, he had to be the one to finish it. If something caught his attention, he either had to have it or had to do something about it. He had his own reasons for having such a hatred against Saint Roku's Dragons. I was never told the full story at once, but with the bits and pieces I had heard over the years, I had somewhat figured it out.

When Jet was a freshman -new to high school sports and high school drama- the Freedom High Buccaneers participated in a basketball tournament at Saint Roku. The tournament was a major success for the Buccaneers, having come in second place for the first time in twelve years. But as a freshman, Jet didn't know who to talk to and who not to, and it just so happened to be that Jet had let his mouth get him in trouble once more and decided to flirt with a girl. When said girl refused Jet's attempts, he took offence. When Jet refused to back down, members of the Dragons had him covered in his own blood, broken, and bruised worse than an apple in a blender. Or so the story goes.

To this day, Jet has held a grudge on the entire school, even though most of the people in the attack had long since graduated.

Suki offered me a sympathetic look, but we both knew a simple glance wouldn't do anything wouldn't do anything against Jet and his cronies if it was truly needed. It was a good thing I had Suki on my side; I didn't stand a chance against them all alone.

The bus pulled up to the pristine school of the Dragons after another half an hour. White buildings placed around the property like a maze were connected by matching hallways to the main building in the centre. Smooth walkways broke up the large expanses of green grass and cherry blossom trees. All of it was fenced in by a lard red fence and golden gate.

I felt my jaw drop.

This place was on a whole other level than Freedom High in every way possible. Students in expensive, brand name clothing roamed the court yard, their stylish outfits so different than the everyday outfits at Freedom High. I looked down at my own outfit -a white tank top and a pair of old, worn out jeans- and suddenly felt more insignificant than ever before.

One at a time, we all filed off the bus, led by our coach, Jeong Jeong, and made our way past the golden plated doors at the entrance and down a brightly lit hallway to the gym. The ceilings of Saint Roku Preparatory were high, arching like an observatory above the main floor and the balconied walk ways on the second level. Dark wooden beams held up the circular ceiling from the black marble floors.

People watched as we walked through their school, some of them openly gawking at our "rustic" appearances. I adjusted the strap of my gym bag and tried to keep from staring at them too much. Something about Jet's background with the school and the way everyone seemed so against outsiders gave me an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. But then I saw one group of teenagers, three girls and a guy, in front of the doors to the gymnasium, that I couldn't seem to take my eyes off of. They gave off a whole other vibe of "rich, powerful, and you're not welcome".

The first girl, and the tallest of the three, barely spared anyone a passing glance as she occupied herself with cleaning her already immaculate finger nails with the blade of a pocket knife. Her long, straight hair and bluntly cut bangs were picture perfect, just like her sheer, floor length skirt and combat boots.

A short spunky looking girl, bounced at the front of the group. She had a crimped long bob hairstyle that looked as if she slept with it in braid every night. A white crop top and matching skirt signified her position as a cheerleader of the Dragons. Compared to the other three she hung out with, she was by far the least intimidating.

The male, taller than the tallest of the girls by at least half a head, had hair swept in a side part that was so dark brown, he could've easily been mistaken as raven haired. He wore a dark red hoodie and a pair of black, ripped jeans, and heavy boots indoors, yet somehow didn't look anywhere near an overheating temperature. When he turned and caught me staring too long, I quickly shifted my gaze to the floor in front of me, but not before I noticed a harsh red scar covering the upper left portion of his face. His eyes were molten. I couldn't be certain what shade exactly his eyes were, but it was as if every fiery colour burned within them.

I glanced back up once I thought he wasn't looking anymore, and took the chance to gaze at the last girl. She wore tall stilettos and a leather jacket that was left open, showing off her blood red shirt beneath. Her hair was slicked back into a large bun on the top of her head, not a single strand out of place.

The more I stared, the more I thought that she and the boy had to have been related somehow. The only difference, besides the obvious, was that although both their eyes sparked with a kind of unforeseen fire, his flickered as if he was unsure of something I couldn't quite put my finger on, while hers left you with a feeling of burning destruction.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and whipped around to find that Suki was motioning for me to keep up with our group. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and continued following Coach Jeong Jeong and the rest of the team down towards the locker rooms. Suki and I placed our bags on the bench in the centre of the girl's room and decided to explore the school, killing time before our game.

Down the halls and past the countless amounts of corners, doors, and people in the hallway, I ended up losing track of Suki. Cursing myself for not paying closer attention, I turned back and found myself being herded by a very large crowd of people all heading to the same place.

The cafeteria.

You've gone and done it now, Katara. You're so intelligent that you allowed yourself to be herded into a room full of potentially dangerous people who apparently don't like outsiders all that much. Ducking my head below the shoulders of the crowd, I tried to squeeze my way through the crowd pouring into the cafeteria for lunch. People bumped into me as I weaved my way through the expensively dressed students.

Next thing I knew, I was covered in water.

My shirt was soaked thoroughly, and it clung to me like a second skin. My white shirt.

Without a second thought I crossed my arms over my chest and attempted to wiggle my way through the crowd and back to the locker room. I hadn't even made it three steps before a foreign hand clamped tightly around my arm, whipping my the other way. It felt like being stared down by a nightmare. From locked fingers, to stiff and veiny arm, to the devilish smirk of my own team's captain as he held an empty water bottle up.

If I wasn't completely sure before, the glint in his eyes took away any doubt. "That's a sharp outfit, Katy. Or maybe I should say wet?" His fist tightened around my arm and his nails dug into the skin around me elbow.

I hissed at Jet. Driving my heel into his foot, I yanked my arm free and bolted past the students of Saint Roku, not caring if I shoved anyone over in the process of my escape. I could hear footsteps trailing after me, feel the hot tears as they poured in streams down my cheeks. I could only pray I knew where I was going as I sprinted as fast as I possibly could with my arms tucked across my chest. One foot in front of the other, I continued down a path unknown as the tears blurred my vision making it impossible to see. That is, until I hit something so hard that I nearly fell backwards onto the floor.

Strong arms gripped my waist and kept me from toppling over.

I wiped my eyes and opened them slightly to see that I had knocked into someone in an empty hallway. I gave a muttered apology and turned to continue down the hall, but the person in a black t-shirt kept their hands on my waist. It was only then that I got a good look at who the person was that I crashed into.

The boy from earlier this morning.

"Stay here," he mumbled in a husky voice, still keeping a hand attached to my waist as he turned to one of the lockers and began spinning the combination for it.

"I-I have to go," I stammered, hearing rapid footsteps echoing down the hall. It was more than one set. I needed to leave. One on one, I could have fought for myself, but not a group of them. And not in this situation. "Let me go. I need to get out of here." I tried to jerk my way from his hold, keeping my arms crossed over my chest. This boy was much stronger than Jet was though, and his well toned arms were proof of that.

"Wait."

"No. I can't. I have to go. You need to let go of me. They're coming for me. I can't let anyone see me like this. You shouldn't even be seeing me like this!"

The locker he had been trying to open clicked and before I could tell what was going on, a dark red hoodie was tossed at my head and I was given the command to put it on. I was about to protest, but at the far end of the hall I could just make out Jet winding a corner being closely followed by a couple of his cronies. They made a beeline straight for us.

Hurriedly, I stuffed myself into the oversized sweater that smelled oddly of campfires and mint.

I tugged on the boy's arm, knowing full well I couldn't get someone a foot taller than me, and much more muscular, to move unless they wanted to. He didn't budge an inch. "Come on! He's coming after me. If he saw you trying to help me, he'll go after you too."

The boy glanced my way, and I saw the corner of his mouth turn up just the slightest on the unscarred side of his face. "Get going. I'll save you from the pirates. Besides, I have a score to settle with this one anyway."

I didn't move until he started to push me towards the doors at the end of the hallway.

From behind the windows of the closed doors, I could easily see how the boy lined up to face Jet like he had been waiting too long to return a well deserved punch to the jaw. I watched as they both squared themselves to their opponent and prepared for the fist fight of a lifetime, but I didn't stick around much longer. I knew that the boy had sent me away for a reason and I wasn't going to jeopardize his sacrifice.

A quick series of knocks sounded on the girls' change room door outside of Saint Roku's gymnasium.

I pulled the sweater back over my head, my tank top still wet from before the game.

We had ended up losing our game against the Dragons by a long shot. With Jet and his lackeys in the nurse's office waiting to be picked up by our principal, our team was on edge. The boys had no idea what had happened to our "oh faithful leader", and Suki didn't bother to ask me what had happened when she registered the look on my face when I had entered the dressing room.

Suki opened the door just a crack and stuck her head out. Mumbled words were exchanged between her and whomever was on the other side of the door. She closed the door and turned towards me. "There's a boy in the hall. He wanted to know if you'd like to talk before we have to go home."

I nodded and slung my gym bag over my shoulder. I peaked out the door, much like Suki had just moments before. The boy from earlier leaned against the opposite wall, and besides some bruised knuckles and swollen cheek, that I had noticed during the game against him, there was little to no damage received on his end. It almost made me what kind of wounds Jet was suffering if he was barricaded to the nurses office during the game while this guy was allowed to play and had no issue being the top scorer in the game.

The door closed with a dull thud behind me and a slowly made my way over to him.

"Hey," he said so quietly that I wouldn't have known had I not been paying attention to the way his lips moved. His face appeared as if it was frozen in a permanent grimace making him look like he hated everything, but his eyes held a warm light that said otherwise.

"Hi."

He tilted his head and pushed himself off the wall, motioning me to follow him. I did. "I see you're still wearing my sweater." My cheeks flushed and I nervously toyed with the edges of one of the sleeves. A calloused but gentle hand touched my fingers, calming them instantly. "Don't worry. Red looks good on you."

The colour of the sweater wasn't what I was worried about, but I didn't make a fuss. It wasn't until we were out of the athletic hallway that I was struck with curiosity. "What's your name?"

Zuko," he stated simply.

"Oh. My name is Katara." He nodded but didn't say much else. After a few more minutes of this, I became antsy and had to ask more questions. Why would he ask me to talk if he didn't want to say anything? "Why did you help me today?"

He barely even shrugged as he kept his gaze forward and his steps even and soundless. "You're not from around here."

"What kind of grudge do you have against Jet?"

He paused, his paced footsteps faltering for the slightest of moments. "It's a long story."

"I've got time."

Zuko let out a long sigh. "Jet isn't the only one that can hold grudges, you know? When I was in my freshman year, my school hosted a basketball tournament that your school participated in. Jet and I used to be rivals in elementary school when it came to sports, so naturally, when high school came around, the same thing happened. When it was our turn t play against the pirates," he said the false mascot name like it left a foul taste in his mouth, "Jet learned that as long as the refs weren't looking directly at him, he could get away with a lot more than was remotely fair or legal. He was known as 'the pirate ship's devil' back then.

"When it came to the end of our game, my team had not only won, but I had out scored Jet, and he didn't take that too well. After a few outbursts and swears, he regained some of his composure and thought it would be a great idea to flirt with both my girlfriend at the time, and my sister, Azula. My sister didn't take is so well, claiming that someone of lower class should never have the audacity to talk to someone of her social ranking. It wasn't long before my sister had assembled her miniature army. She, my girlfriend at the time, and their mutual best friend. Those three alone are like a hurricane of fire, knives, and paralysis.

"Jet didn't stand a chance against them, and neither did the rest of his team. Luckily for him, he was able to walk away in the end, but my sister and her friends were never officially punished for what they did. A few days later, my father had sent one of his employees to pick up my sister and I from the school. Azula was running late that day, held up by one of her teachers for interrupting and proving the instructor wrong. As my father's employee went inside to pull her out of class, I made my way to the car. Just as I left the school, I noticed someone walking away from the car. Someone that looked way too similar to Jet. I opened the car door and the next thing I knew, I was in the hospital with my uncle sitting in the chair next to my bed as doctors leaned over my head and pressed thick pads of gauze to my face." Zuko touched his scarred eye briefly, but rapidly withdrew his hand when he caught me staring.

"I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. Jet was awful, but to be a downright monster? He had a reputation for getting harsh revenge on anyone that opposed him or embarrassed him publicly. After what Zuko did to help me, I could only hope he would be suspended or expelled. At least until I could transfer out of Freedom High and into Southern Tundra.

Zuko shook his head but refused to meet my eyes. "Don't be. You didn't do it."

Another moment of silence passed as we neared the main entrance.

I decided to ask him one final question before I had to leave. I didn't know when or if I was ever going to see him again. "Zuko, how did you know I wasn't from here? It's not like anyone around here wears uniforms or anything."

"You mean besides the fact that you don't fit in whatsoever with any of the students here?"

I gave him a miniature glare of my own but nodded anyway. The door that led outside opened and we carried on down the paved path towards the old, yellow school bus waiting in the midday sun.

Suddenly, I was trapped in one spot as golden eyes of fire bore intently into my own. It was almost as if warmth radiated off of him just by simply looking into them. "Your jeans. I've never seen anyone with jeans the exact same colour as their eyes."

"You knew I didn't attend you school because of my jeans? You're insane."

The corner of his mouth curved up. "Yes and no. There's no one around this part of town with eyes like yours. The fact that your jeans were exactly the same shade as your eyes was -I'm guessing- purely coincidence."

I stared at him in disbelief, continuing towards the bus. "You've barely looked at me in the eyes at all."

He shrugged, his smirk deepening the slightest. "Or 'cause I saw you walking in the school with a group wearing Freedom High track jackets and carrying gym bags."

I stopped a step shy of the bus stairs and turned back to face him. "You, Zuko of the Dragons, are completely and utterly insane. If you want your sweater back, you'll have to come to my side of town to get it." I gave him a large grin to let him know I was both serious and trying to make a joke at the same time. I climbed the last few steps onto the bus, and as the driver shut the door, I slid into the same seat I had been in on the way too the game.

I leaned my head against the window and stuck my nose into the shoulder of Zuko's sweater, inhaling the smoky mint scent as we drove away.

I smiled to myself silently as I watched his figure disappear from sight as the bus round a curve in the road. This was definitely not going to be the last time we saw each other.