My Guardian Angel
Chapter 2
When I was eight, I was sure I was growing nerves,
Like steel in my palm.
Make a map of what you see,
Direct pain effectively.
I was eight, I was sure I was growing pains…
Like O, Like H – Tegan & Sara
A:N/ Hey guys! I'm back! I miss the sun already. D:
And how many of you thought Sozin's Comet was amazingly epic? Sure, sure, it had a couple of flaws, (like Zutara not happening, lulz) but it was definitely one of the greatest endings I've ever seen. How many of you spazzed when Zuko was shot down? And really wanted Katara to just kiss him after he was healed?
I DID!
Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender. Oh, how I wish I did...
-x-
"Hey there kiddo," Dad said as I flew down the stairs. "You up for some grub? I saw a Chinese restaurant on our ride here yesterday." He paused before adding, "I think it's gonna be take-out for a while."
"I'm fine with that!" Sokka chirped from the floor while lacing up his Converse.
I clutched my stomach as it growled. "Ye-e-e-ah, food sounds pretty good right about now."
"I'll call a taxi!" Dad called, already moving to the kitchen where his trusty Razor was.
"So did you find any secret rooms with like, corpses in the closet or something?" Sokka asked as I joined him on the floor. I flicked him the forehead. "Ow!"
"Sokka, you really need a hobby," I said while pulling on my sneakers.
"Or a girlfriend," Dad chirped, walking back into the room. When Sokka's face turned bright red, he howled with laughter and helped me up. "Picking on your brother is my hobby," he stage-whispered.
"Aww!" Sokka moaned, standing up quickly and yanking open the front door. I could say he didn't nearly fall flat on his face when he tripped over an ancient, chipped stone turtle, but I'd be lying.
-x-
The taxi drive to the restaurant wasn't bad – the driver was nice and asked us if we liked the town and all – but I felt like Dad was trying to cook me alive. The humidity was terrible. It was like someone had just chucked a pot of boiling water into the air and it didn't completely evaporate.
Once we got to the café and – hallelujah! – air conditioning, I collapsed into a booth. I really didn't want to move, but when a waiter came to take our order for drinks, I bolted upright. Our waiter was an elderly man with a gray beard and barely any hair on the crown of his head, with a name tag pinned onto his black apron. It said "Hello, my name in Iroh" in flourishing font, surrounded by a maroon dragon.
"Good evening," he said pleasantly, taking a pencil from behind his ear and a notebook from a pouch in his apron. "What can I get you to drink?"
Dad didn't usually let us get anything other than water, (blame Sokka) so when he nodded I didn't know what to get. I wasn't in the mood for any soda, so I asked, "What do you recommend?"
"Oh, the tea here is quite good. Might I suggest the white dragon? It's got a very subtle tangy flavor and I just adore it."
"Hmm… alright, the white dragon it is," I said.
"It comes in a full pot," he warned.
"I'm sure I can handle it."
Iroh positively beamed. He turned toward Sokka and said, "And you, young man?"
Sokka shrugged. "Could you just bring another cup? I'll split the tea."
"Just water for me, please," Dad said, and Iroh scribbled away on his pad.
"I'll get these right out to you," he said, moving toward the kitchen. Once he was gone I looked around the table, taking in everything. It was a very fine restaurant, I admit that. The table looked like oak, not too shabby, and you could positively sink into the seats.
"Hey, what was the name of this place again?" I asked, tracing a circle pattern in the table.
"The Jasmine Dragon," Dad said, pointed the title on my menu.
"Oh. Cool name."
Sokka and Dad were silent, no doubt picking out their dinner, so I followed their example. Sweet and sour chicken sounds good, I thought, my eyes scanning the other orders.
When Iroh came back with our drinks – the tea was good - and asked what we wanted, I asked for sweet and sour chicken while Dad ordered the Kung Pao chicken. Sokka wanted the Moo Goo Gai Pan, probably just because it sounded funny.
We didn't have to wait very long for out food which was a surprise, considering out full the place was. The sweet and sour chicken was delicious, and Sokka's order was pretty good. I went back for Dad's a couple times.
After we had paid and left a gracious tip for our wonderful waiter, we started to leave when the door shot open and a pair of teenagers burst through.
It was a boy and girl, probably both around 14. The boy was talking animatedly. "C'mon, you're gonna love this place! It's got the best tea, I swear…"
We pushed ourselves to the wall, letting them pass. I noticed that the boy had grey eyes, and the girl's were… well, to be honest, they looked foggy. But once they were gone Dad opened the door and ushered us through, already on his cell again to call for another taxi.
-x-
We stood around in the parking lot, watching the sunset when the car pulled up. As we all piled in the driver said, "Where to, buddy?"
"Is there a Wal-Mart around here anywhere?" Dad asked. "We're new here," he added.
The man nodded and said, "Sure, there's one just a few blocks from here. What are you looking for?"
"We need some school supplies."
"Ahh, well then, we've got a Staples. It's a bit further out, but they're all jacked up for the school season."
Dad smiled. "Well then, Staples it is."
"So, what school are you going to?" the man asked, pulling out of the parking lot. "Wait, wait, lemme guess..." As we stopped at a red light he looked in the rear-view mirror to see if he was talking to a bunch of teenagers or 5-year-olds. "Ba Sing Se High, am I right?"
"Yep, good old Ba Sing Se High," Dad said, pulling out a paper from his pocket. I couldn't see what it was – Sokka's head was in the way. "I hope it hasn't changed much from when I went there."
"No kidding, you went to Ba Sing Se High?"
While Dad and the driver where getting all buddy-buddy, I was ready to fall asleep, right then and there. The warm Chinese food had done wonders and the cab was getting toasty. I think I actually dozed off for a bit, because when I opened my eyes Sokka was getting out of the car and Dad was already heading towards the building.
"Thanks for the ride," I said. My voice sounded groggy, so that was another step toward the I-fell-asleep-and-nobody-bothered-to-wake-me-up.
"Hey, no problem kid," the driver said. As soon as I slammed the door and took a good three feet back the car lurched forward, spewing gravel from the squealing tires. Yeah, thanks for not running over my feet.
I walked briskly, catching up with Dad and Sokka at the entrance as the automatic doors slid open. "Did you know that guy?" I asked, following Dad.
"Yeah, we were in the same English class. His name's Yen; he was a pretty good student."
"Any particular reason he tried to run me over?"
Dad rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Well... you sort of fell asleep so we starting catching up."
"You guys talked for an hour!" Sokka complained.
Ignoring Sokka, Dad admitted, "We may have talked for awhile. Anyway, he just needed to pick up some over people on the other side of town. No big deal."
We were at the entrance and before I could respond, Dad pulled another slip of paper from his pocket and turned towards the carts. "Let's see… Kat, you want a new backpack? Your old one fell apart a few months ago."
I put my finger to my chin in mock thought and said slowly, "Gee, I don't know… I mean, I guess I could carry around all my school stuff in a Safeway bag, but…"
He grinned and said, "You and Sokka go check out the backpacks. Wait – take the list! I've got a copy and I'll get all your notebooks and pens."
"Got it! C'mon, they're over in aisle 7…" I mumbled, dragging Sokka along by his sleeve.
As we were nearing the packs, I noticed another person was already there. He had shaggy black hair and had his back turned to us. I didn't want to disturb him, so I hopped over to the messenger bags. I shifted through everything, stopping when I found the perfect one for me. It had a khaki body with blue camouflage covering the strap and front; khaki stars were pasted on the bottom. I looked around and was surprised to see Sokka and I were the only ones there; the person was already gone. I could see his retreating figure at the top of the aisle, turning left. I shrugged it off and walked over to where Sokka was torn between a basic black backpack and a green bag that looked like a giant purse to me.
"Hey guys!" Dad was calling to us, waving frantically in the air. He had already put all our other supplies on the conveyer belt (1) and was now just waiting for our backpacks. Geez he's fast!
"Got everything?" he asked as we handed out bags over. I had convinced Sokka to drop the purse, so now he was pouting as he handed Dad the plain black backpack.
"Yep," I said, grabbing behind me for a pack of gum I could toss on when Dad's back was turned. "We got it all."
After Dad had paid for all our things, he had us each grab our own bag while he whipped out the phone again to call for a final taxi ride. Our car would come by sometime tomorrow, so that was good news.
The drive home was pleasant. We were all chewing gum, so we didn't talk this time. Under the lampposts in our neighborhood, I waited until Dad looked out and window and snatched the keys from his open palm. He threw a ten over the seat when we reached our house and we all slunk out, ready for a long, peaceful sleep, save for waking up at 5:30 in the morning.
"Hey, I've got a question," I said as I fumbled with the lock on the front door. "It's only June and yet we're going to school tomorrow?"
"It's an all year-round school," Dad explained. "You get longer bre – you've got to pull, Kat! – longer breaks, like instead of only two weeks for Christmas, you get six. You'll be coming in right after summer break, eight or so weeks, so I don't think you'll get too behind."
I nodded, mulling it over, finally hearing the click that let us know Katara the O Mighty had finally gotten the door open. We all pulled our shoes off and threw them in the corner.
"I'm going to sleep," Sokka said, yawning dramatically and dragging his feet up the stairs. I raised a brow and asked, "He gets the second floor?"
Dad grinned sheepishly before whistling and walking into the kitchen, heating up the cold pot of coffee he had had brewing from that morning. "Well, he asked for it!"
I rolled my eyes and followed, snagging a hair band from a tangled mess on the table. "Hey, you know that big room upstairs… the one with the huge windows that reach from the floor to the ceiling?" I wanted the room, and I was determined to get it.
Hal froze, his hand still on the old knob for the wood stove. We really needed to update this house. "Yeah. What about it?"
"Well, I was just wondering if I could use it for my paintings," I said casually, avoiding his eyes, hoping he would say yes. I could tell that room was important to him. Maybe it used to be Mom's room.
"That was your mother's room."
Bingo. "Oh… what did she use it for?"
He wasn't talking and I was about to leave when he said quietly, "She used to paint there too."
I didn't answer. Instead I tiptoed out of the room, heading straight for where I hoped my room was.
-x-
Once I was in the safety of "my" room, I breathed deeply and closed my eyes. No wonder Dad didn't want to talk about it. Anything that reminds him of Mom sets him off.
A scene flashed before my eyes: a laughing woman, a large room, a toddler, paint, blank canvases, cans of dusty brushes. I shook my head and dove into the drawers of my cabinets, grabbing a pair of pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt. I didn't want to leave so I just lifted my shirt off and stripped off my now dirty jeans, pulling on my clean new clothes.
I was crawling into the bed (Sokka was right; it was pretty filthy) when a color caught my eye. It was on an ancient desk, twinkling like a star lost in space. I hopped out of bed and walked cautiously forward. When I saw it was only a blue book, I sighed and reached to take it. I flipped through the pages, noting they were all blank. A note fluttered to the floor from somewhere in the book and I knelt down to pick it up.
Kat, it read, this is just a little something I thought you might like. You'd call it a diary. I tried to give one to Sokka, but he wouldn't take it until I said it was a "journal." I really hope you like it here in Florida – I know your mother and I did. Keep this to write your thoughts in. It might come in handy.
Love, Dad.
A diary, huh? I glanced at the clock. 9:42, it beeped pleasantly. I groaned and was looking around for a pen when another bundle fell out of the book. In closer inspection, I realized it was a black pencil. I took up a stool and sat down at the desk and started to write.
Dear Diary, I started before shaking my head and crossing it out. Other girls may start theirs like that, but I wasn't other girls.
Hey there Diary! There. Better.
Anyway… I guess Dad must have spent a few long, agonizing hours trying to find me something that just screamed "Katara." It's blue, and that's good enough for me.
So, since it looks like we'll be getting to know each other, you might as well know a little about me before you start making any assumption.
1. Blue is my favorite color, so you better be glad you're made that way – if you weren't, you may have woken up in the morning to find yourself covered with paint.
2. Speaking of paint, I love to do that. Just so you know, there is this gorgeous room somewhere above me, right now, and you will not believe how lonely it looks! Yeah, I know what you're thinking: "Great, I got a crazy teenager to be my owner." Well, I'm not crazy. I can tell when someone or something is lonely. It just comes to me.
3. You mess with my family, I mess with you.
4. Referring back to number 2, water feels like my natural element. You know how some people say they feel like "fire" or "dark" or "air"? I feel like water. Simple as that.
5. I really hope my first day at a new school doesn't screw up.
I nodded in satisfaction. It wasn't a novel, but it was good enough for me.
All right, I'll let you think about that. For now, I'm beat, I've got my first day at some new school tomorrow, and I'm ready to fall asleep and never wake up.
Katara Usheii
P.S. Maybe after a while you'll earn a better closing that just my name. Good luck.
-x-
A:N/ (1) While I was writing this chapter I asked everyone in the car what you call the little black treadmill thing that you put your items on in the grocery store and stuff. My mum said trolley, my sister said foodscelator, (escalator? Get it?) and then my dad finally came into the conversation and said, "It's a conveyer belt!" I still don't know if that's right.
And gasp! Who could it be that Katara saw in Staples? Aww, it must be Foamy. 8D
Anyway, hope you all liked the chapter; please don't kill me if you don't. Cheers!
