Love Is...

Okay, so here's my modern-day Tokka fic. I was struck by inspiration. There's no bending (unfortunately) and though I hate to change her character so drastically, Toph can see. Because let's face it, if she was blind she'd probably either go to a special school or have a helper (and what helper would really put up with Toph?). So her vision is just a little fuzzy. She needs glasses. Yay!

I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender or the book mentioned above. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.

Also, parts of Toph's life are VERY DIFFERENT in this story. You'll have to wait to find out, but you've been warned.

Enjoy.

- // -

Chapter 1: Lucky (Sugar Queens and Rock-a-holics)

Hello, my name is Toph Bei Fong, and I am reportedly the "luckiest girl in the world."

Hardy har har, Katara. If only you knew.

She says this to me during study hall, absentmindedly twirling her hair around her finger and gushing over some boy she likes while I draw pictures of Principal Feng being beaten over the head with a stick.

"You're so lucky, Toph! You're a part of the richest family around, you have a ready-made boyfriend waiting for you, and you can talk to anyone you want without being attacked by the popular kids!"

"Yeah, I'm just like a movie star," I say sarcastically. In the first place, I wouldn't exactly call my family a "family." More like three people forced to live with each other. Three people who hate each other. I can't wait until the day I turn eighteen, and I'm only waiting because it's hard to get anywhere without a high school diploma, "And a boyfriend? I barely even know Teo!"

"He still likes you," she shrugs, scribbling down notes on a piece of paper. She has more boyfriend options than I can count. Aang, Zuko, Jet, and more (I just never bothered to learn their names). If she wasn't such an indecisive person there wouldn't be a problem, and I'd be spared from all these "best friend talks" during my last period of the day. Excuse me, but this is a time for relaxation. The calm before the storm. It's interrupted every other freaking day by Sugar Queen and her petty problemos.

"Anyway, I still can't believe what happened at lunch today! I mean, Zuko actually looked at me! And he sort of smiled, you know? But I don't know if it was at me or not…" When she gets like this, she usually forgets I was there when the event happened. I just try to brush it off an let her be. Wouldn't want to hurt her precious feelings, would we? "Why can't you just talk to him for me? Please?"

My friendship with Zuko is something not many people know about, mainly because once people see you hanging out together at school, they automatically assume that you're "interested" in each other. We usually meet up elsewhere, like at the park or the alternative music store, places most kids from school wouldn't dare to be seen. Katara only knows about this friendship because I admitted it once during some kind of stupid slumber-party we had. Sometimes I feel bad for her. She doesn't have many girl-friends.

"I'm not playing love guru," I say, pushing my headband back up and crumpling my piece of paper into a ball and tossing it at the trash can, "You figure out your relationships on your own. I'm Hothead's friend, not his matchmaker."

"Okay, Toph," she sighs, putting her head in her hands. I don't know why she gets so excited over these things. Sometimes I want to give her a mood stabilizer.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Sugar Queen."

Katara swivels in her chair, her face lighting up as she stares at me, "Do you want to come over to my house this weekend? I was thinking we could go see that new action movie with--"

"I read the book. The producers totally white-washed the cast!" I protest, stuffing stray pencils and wads of gum into my backpack, "If they're going to adapt something, they should at least try to keep a glimmer of the author's vision."

"Then we don't have to see a movie. We can just go shopping or something."

"I'm flat broke."

"Then we can just hang out," she pouts, "You're starting to sound like you don't want to come over."

"And you're starting to sound desperate," I chuckle.

"You could just say no."

"I want to come over, Katara. I just don't know if my parents would let me."

"When are they ever going to let up? You're in high school now!"

"I know," I sigh. She doesn't know the half of it. Nobody does.

The bell rings and everyone scrambles from their seats. I follow Katara out of the back entrance to the school where we begin to walk home. Almost all of the kids in this place live close enough to walk. I'm glad I don't have to put up with annoying low-lives on the bus, but sometimes walking home is just as bad.

"So will your brother be there?"

"Sokka?" As if she has another brother. Insert eye-roll here, please, "Yeah, probably. He never leaves his room. Why do you care?"

"Because he's a dork. I like making fun of him."

"Toph! He… that's… okay, he's a dork. But that's still not nice!"

"I'm not a nice person," I grin. She gives me a look and adjusts her backpack on her shoulder, "And since he's openly a dork, I have a right to mock him for it."

"He's not that bad. At least he's had girlfriends!"

"Who, Suki?! She's twice the loser he is!"

"She is not!"

"Katara, she practices magic kung-fu. Totally not loser material!" I say sarcastically.

"It's dancing with fans! That's… okay, that's kind of loser-ish."

"Thank you for agreeing with me!"

"But he had Yue! She was fine! Until… well, you know."

"Yeah," I say quietly. I never knew Yue; she was in the same grade as Sokka. She was murdered while vacationing at a ski resort because the guy didn't like her ethnicity or something. I guess he was going to shoot the whole place down, but she stepped up and gave him enough of a distraction until the police arrived. Too bad they didn't get there soon enough to save her. Katara says Sokka still talks to her sometimes.

"Anyway, make sure you ask and then call me tonight. You can walk over whenever you want tomorrow, okay? I'll be there."

"Okay, Sugar Queen. See ya around."

She turns to walk down another street in normal suburbia. I keep going, past the park and the rinky-dink general store to an almost gated community. They never actually got around to putting the gate up, but once you cross the line everyone knows you're in richy-rich-ville. The houses get bigger and more expensive looking, along with becoming more cold. There's something about money that just makes everything so uninviting. Or maybe it's just me. I'd rather be down the street at Katara's any day.

I open the door as quietly as possible, slipping off my shoes and tip-toeing through the entryway. My mother is sitting at the kitchen-table, leafing through bills, it looks like. Weird. Dad never lets her handle the checks. She's slightly insane. Literally.

"Your father is in the living room," she says, not bothering to look up at me, "With George."

George is like her imaginary friend. Except he tortures her or something, I think. She has another hallucination named Anastasia that bangs on pots and pans when she's trying to sleep and follows her into the shower. Weird, right? Told you she was insane. Maybe she inhaled too much opium when she was little. Her parents did name her Poppy. Coincidence?

"Thanks," I reply with the same coldness, "I'm going over to Katara's tomorrow, okay? Probably all weekend." Hopefully, anyway. Her dad always lets me in. I hope he's just being a nice guy and doesn't know more than he lets on.

"Ask him, not me."

I always like dealing with my mom more than my dad. She usually just ignores me. She ignores everyone, in fact. Too many little oompa-loompas running around inside her head. She's the one who keeps the house looking neat and tidy, who keeps our 'image' nice and clean. She comes up with all the lies and facades (Probably with a little help from Georgie and Ana). She never yells and she never hits. I always approach her first, always hoping for a different answer even though it's always the same. Ask him.

I'd really rather not, but thanks so much mom! Have a nice day. Just go ahead and turn a blind eye while you throw your daughter to the lions. Love you too. Ha, ha, ha.

I walk into the living room, feeling the energy build up in my feet, preparing to run. He's sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand (with no George in sight, might I add), the TV blaring. I stand just far enough away to be out of reach, not that distance will stop him.

He barely even looks at me before going back to the screen. I decided to just go for it.

"Can I go to Katara's tomorrow? I'll probably spend the night, too. I--"

WHOP. I keep my feet planted firmly as he slaps me across the face. Right across the fucking face. What if I bruise? What am I suppose to tell people? Oh well. I should be used to it. I shouldn't bruise so easily anymore. Suck it up and deal, you big baby.

"Let's try that again," he says, his eyes still not leaving the TV. Bastard.

Boiling with anger, I get down on my knees. I was hoping he had forgotten. He was drunk when he said it. I only agreed so he'd let go of my hair. Hair pulling, especially when you're being suspended in the air by it, really hurts.

"May I please go to Katara's house tomorrow, sir?"

I sit and wait for his answer. Every second kills me. He takes his time thinking it over, fiddling with the can tab of his beer and changing the channel a few times. I imagine myself punching him in the face over and over and things feel a little bit better.

"Go ahead," he says after what seems like hours, "Just get out of my sight."

I run up the stairs as fast as I can, the energy springing from my feet through the tips of my toes. I take the stairs two at a time and burst into my room, locking the door behind me. The curtains are drawn and the bag of chips I snuck upstairs last night is still laying on the floor. That's dinner a'la Toph when you're banned from eating that night. I don't even remember what I did anymore. I never seem to. The rules change fast around here.

I flop down on my bed and try to start my freshmen algebra homework, but my head keeps swimming. My face sort of hurts even though it only looks a little red in the mirror. I squint my pale green eyes to judge the situation. If the color doesn't go down by tomorrow, a little cover up should solve my problems lickidy-split. My appearance problems, anyway. Make-up: the abused girl's best friend. Thank the Lord for Cover-Girl.

I pick up my cordless phone while flipping through quadratic equations and dial Zuko's number.

"Hello?" a voice asks coldly. I know by the feminine tone that it's Azula. If Zuko's dad ever picked up, I'd probably hang up the phone. He's even more freaky than my dad, and that says something considering my dad hits me on a daily basis. You'd think anyone who didn't hurt me would be the equivalent to an angel. Maybe it's just because I know Zuko's dad hurts him too.

"Is Zuko there?"

"Yeah, one sec," she sounds like I'm inconveniencing her entire life by asking her to give the phone to her brother. I don't think it's that hard, "Don't bother calling this weekend. He's going to his mother's."

I've always found it funny how Azula doesn't address her own mom. She freaking loves her dad, the money hungry child abuser, more than her mom. Actually, I'm not sure if she capable of love at all. It's not like her dad loves anybody. I just know she's there because of choice. Zuko's there because his dad won in court. He'd much rather be with his mom.

"Hi Toph," Zuko says, "What's up?"

"Meet me at the park?"

"Only if you bring the rocks," he chuckles slightly.

"Only if you bring the slingshots."

"Deal. See you in a few."

I place the phone back in it's cradle and begin to search for my bag of rocks. I've been collecting rocks ever since I was little. I don't really know why. A few years back, Zuko and I got the idea to try chucking them across the field near the park. It's what we usually do after school. Hang out and sling rocks. It's a good way to relieve stress, I guess. I've thought about making targets with certain people's faces on them, but that might look a little suspicious.

Once I find the rocks, I try to slip out of the house quietly, yet I still end up getting yelled at and hit in the face again. This one feels black and blue. When I'm safely outside I can start running. I run all the way down the street and towards the park. When I get there I sit on the swings and wait for Zuko, kicking off my shoes and floating side to side, the chains creaking slightly. I've always hated wearing shoes. I like to feel the ground underneath my bare feet. If I can feel it, I know that I'm really here and this isn't a nightmare. I'm not going to wake up because it's really, unfortunatly.

After a few minutes Zuko shows up, out of breath and carrying two slingshots under his arm. He's cradling his wrist lightly so I won't notice.

"Sorry I'm late. I had some… business to take care of."

"Don't worry," I smile slightly, "I took a few detours, too."

We've always acknowledged each others family troubles, but never addressed them. We both just deal with it. Abusive fathers go with the whole "rich power money" thing, I guess. It's kind of like both our dad's hit us, so we bonded somehow. I trust him with everything I have.

"Your face looks kind of purple," he comments, grabbing a rock from the bag and inserting it into the slingshot.

"Your wrist doesn't look so great either, buddy," I pull the rubber sling back and hurl a rock across the field. The sound of the pressure being released rings in my ears.

" 'S not so bad. I can still move it."

"And I own way more cover up than anyone needs. Besides, no one is going to touch my face."

"Never said anyone was going to touch my wrist."

"One of your many fangirls might try to ambush you," I grin. He groans, "So you're going to your mom's this weekend?"

"Yeah. I hope he's not too bad to Azula while I'm gone."

"Why do you care? She's a bitch!"

"Yeah, but she's a bitch because of him. I mean, she actually loves him, Toph. That's so messed up. All he's done is push her her whole life, and she tells herself that it's cause he cares. At least he just beats me. He's screwed with her head."

"Yeah, I guess I'd rather be physically screwed than mentally," I sigh.

"You're so funny," he says sarcastically, "That's not what I meant."

"But it is what you said," I laugh.

"Your dad doesn't… does he?" Zuko asks quietly.

"No. He fucks with my mom so much that he doesn't need me," I mutter. If he ever touched me like that, I think I'd seriously think about telling someone. I hope, "Your dad doesn't… to Azula, does he?"

"I don't think so… And thanks for caring about me, Toph."

"Sorry. Your dad just doesn't seem like the type who's into little boys."

He laughs, his hand reaching up to tuck his hair back and absentmindedly brushing against his scar near his left eye. He tells everyone that he was hit with a baseball when he was little, but I know that it's not from playing T-ball. You'd never know Ozai was so fond of sports.

We shoot the breeze for a while, tossing rocks and bitching over our families. Once the sun starts to set, we pick up and begin to walk home. As I'm finding a few more rocks for my collection, I feel like someone's watching me. I look around for Zuko, but he's waiting for me by the road, preoccupied with bending his wrist back and forth. I turn towards the playground to see none other than Katara's brother, Sokka, sitting on the merry-go round staring at me.

Damn it. He better not have seen my face. I glare in his general direction and then turn quickly and run to Zuko.

"Let's go," I say coldly, walking up the road before he even registers I'm there.

"What's wrong, Toph?"

"Nothing. I just remembered I have to make dinner. He's cranky when the food is late."

Zuko doesn't ask questions, even though he knows what time I eat. We've snuck out enough to have each other's house schedules down packed. At least there's some truth to the lie. Daddy dearest will be angry, although the time of day never matters.

- // -

Thanks for reading everyone!

It may seem a little out of character for Toph to be abused. I just want to clear things up now instead of people having to ask (or maybe no one cares. Oh well. I'm telling you anyway. Sorry. Just skip over this and hit the review button, then.)

I obviously changed the fact that Toph was sheltered all her life. In my story, it's more like she was thrown into the world, though I'm trying to keep her character the same. Anyway, if you think about it, Toph's parents are a very rich family and everyone knows them. They want a child that can live up to their life; essentially be perfect. Instead, they get Toph. Even though she isn't blind in this fic, they still find imperfections in her (because she's HUMAN, after all). Because Toph can't reach these high expectations, her parents are very angry and disappointed. And, you know, they're psychos. This is where the abuse comes in.

Now go away and review! Sorry if I bored you to tears. Or if my explanation was obvious…or stupid. Whatever. There will be Toph/Sokka interaction in the next chapter! Promise.