Jinora gasped and instinctively jerked her shoulder away, but now she was in an awkward position, with her feet facing forward and the rest of her body inclined towards whoever was behind her. She reached out for some support before falling heavily onto the ground.
"Oh gosh. Ow." She moaned before looking up resentfully. "Hey, what's your problem?" She snapped, "Don't you know it's rude to go around randomly grabbing other people from behind? Who do you think you are?"
"Sorry." Was the one word reply. Jinora hastily got up and brushed herself off, all the while keeping one eye on the boy standing behind, well, in front of her now. He was a little taller than she was, but she thought that perhaps her bun made her look his size. He probably already had a natural tan, but Jinora supposed that the sun would also be responsible for how dark it was; perhaps a shade or two lighter than the tattered, dirt-crusted clothes he was already wearing. There was dirt under his fingernails, there was dirt smudged on one of his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose, there were tears in the fabric of his clothes and his shoes were not exactly well-off either. In fact, as she mentally summarized his attire, she decided that he, as a whole, was just dirty.
No other adjectives came to mind, not tall, nor lean, nor lanky, or slouchy- in reference to the way he stood- or even in need of a haircut. All were true, of course, but what stood out most about him was the dirt. Jinora wrinkled her nose in disgust and subconsciously rubbed the spot where he had touched her. "Sorry? Is that it?" She asked coolly. "Yeah." Was the infuriatingly short reply. Jinora pursed her lips in irritation and went to grab her glider, stopping short when she saw that the fragile wood of the body had snapped under her shoulder's weight. "Sorry about that too, I guess." Said the filthy street-child behind her.
Jinora had never been so angry before. She just wanted something to bide her time with, and here she was, standing on the roof of a gym in the middle of the city with a broken glider and no money to pay the fare back to Air Temple Island. Not to mention the fact that there was a child with no sense of personal space, hygiene, and seemed unable to carry out a full conversation. Instead of responding, she patted her bun to make sure it looked alright and picked up the pieces of her broken glider. Then, she turned on her heel and swept past the boy, air swirling around their ankles; Jinora hadn't yet learned how to fully control her element during fits of strong emotion.
She remembered the first time she got a glider, on her 8th birthday. Her father presented it to her and she had been so excited and happy she accidentally blew a gust of wind behind her, toppling little toddler Meelo over. The look on his face was so shocked; his mouth fell open in a perfect O, and it was the funniest thing ever.
"Hey, what'cha laughing about, bender?" His voice cut through her thoughts. Jinora turned and looked him full in the eye. "Nothing, street-kid." She said, then turned and walked down the steps and into the gym. "Hey, wait!" He called after her, "You'll get yelled at if you go in that way!"
"Oh yeah? Why?"
"Cos it's for employees only."
"You sure about that?"
"Well, fine then. Get in trouble, I don't care."
"Okay." And that was how their conversation ended. Jinora walked down the steps she had gone through several times before, and the boy stood there, watching her.