I'm so sorry for the late update, I had no internet at my gran'ma's house and I just got home about a half an hour ago. Then I had to update to a new version of Windows 8 or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, but I'm here now and this chapter is longer as an apology for the late update.
Rate, Review, and Enjoy the virtual apology pie I've baked for all of you :3
Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Legend of Korra or any of the real life products or businesses that may be mentioned in this chapter
Chapter 9
(Before I continue: Special thanks to MaKorraLove7 for suggesting 'the phone convo' in the previous chapter, and for overall inspiration.)
Mako tugged on my arm. His hands were warm to the touch and callused; the hands of a worker. I couldn't help but marvel at that fact. It's as if his touch was intoxicating.
"Come on, we gotta tell him what happened." He said once again then dragged me over to where Principal Nathans sat at the desk in the front of the room.
We both approached the desk. Mako cleared his throat, making Nathans look up to us. "This is detention." He stated sternly. "Now please go back to your seats, face forward, and stay quiet."
"But we have to tell you what actually happened in the cafeteria." Mako began despite Nathans command.
He let out an annoyed sigh. "Yes? What about it?" He asked, not really wanting to listen.
"We fought out of self-defense." Mako began, gesturing to his-self and me. "They verbally attacked us first. Then Tahno threw the first punch, then a couple minutes later, Rick pushed her into the lockers and punched her in the face." He finished, waiting for a response from Nathans.
He gave us a confused look. "Richard told me Korra had pushed him into the lockers then 'dropkicked' him…"
"That is true, but she only did that because HE punched her FIRST!" Mako exclaimed.
Nathans looked to me. "Is this true, Korra?" He asked, sitting up straight.
"Yes." I answered simply.
"And why were you, your brother, and Miss Sato involved?" He directed to Mako.
"Because four against one isn't fair!" He replied, gritting his teeth. "We're her friends and needed to help her!"
I couldn't keep myself from blushing slightly at his statement. Not the statement itself, but the way he said it made me feel like I wasn't alone; like I walk with my head held high and not have only my shadow be the only one to walk beside my; not have my shallow heart be the only thing that's beating. (Yes! It's a Green Day reference!)
Principal Nathans said nothing, just sat there with his jaw hanging loose on its hinges like a broken door.
"I just wanted to let you know that it's unjustified to hear only one side of the story and assume that the first thing you hear is the truth…" Mako's words trailed off as he stared into Nathans regretful eyes.
"I'm sorry…" He breathed out. "You three may leave if you'd like… I shouldn't have presumed… I'll talk to the four of them first thing tomorrow morning." He finished.
"Thank you, Principal Nathans…" Mako forced out insincerely, but managed to make sound genuine to Nathans ears. "Come on, Bo."
"Comin'!" Bolin stood up, threw on his sweater, and then followed us out the door.
We walked out the front door of the school and stopped at the stairs. "I'mma call Asami…" Mako said aloud as he pulled his phone out then quickly dialed a number. He put it to his ear, and I could hear it ring. The conversation was loud enough for Bolin and I to hear.
*Phone Conversation*: Key – Mako - Asami - (Actions and shit)
Hey, Mako! What's up? I thought you were in detention… (She asked skeptically as the sound of a drill was heard in the background)
We were. But once Korra and I explained what happened to Nathans, he apologized then let us leave… Surprisingly. (Mako shuffled around the sidewalk, playing with his scarf as Bolin and I watched him pace back and forth, listening intently to the conversation at hand)
That's great! But… What is he gonna do about Eska and the rest…? (She wondered as tools were hears in a clatter)
He said he'd talk to them first thing tomorrow morning, but I dunno if he's gonna suspend them 'er whatever. But I was wondering if you could give us a lift now, or if we have to wait until 3:30… (He kicked a pebble and rubbed a scuff-mark off of his sneaker as he waited for Asami to respond)
(There was a long pause then a clang of metal clash with cement followed by a string of muttered cusses) … Um… I can skip the 10 minute meeting with the car-crew and meet you guys around 3:20? (She suggested with a slight grunt as the sound of a wrench tightening a bolt was heard)
No, no. You're the president of the Motor Shop. You should stay for the meeting. There're like, what, 30 people in shop? You should be there to, you Know…? Keep order and everything… (Mako countered, rather poorly, in an attempt to change Asami's mind)
(She let out a short giggle) There's only 19 people including me at shop, Mako. It's fine. Besides, there's a co-president to 'keep order' while I'm gone.
I know… Alright. What time is it now? (Mako asked as he stopped pacing)
It's, uh… 2:50 right now- 2:51 (She said with a long breath after she finished.
Alright, we'll do something in the meantime. Like get some food 'er somethin'. (He suggested)
Sounds good! I gotta go, the oil in the car we're working on is leaking. Get me some food, too. (She said in a haste)
I will. Bye 'Sami.
See ya later
(*BEEP*)
*End of Phone Conversation*
"OH, OH! I wanna go to Wendy's!" Bolin suggested, shouting in my ear.
"Ow…" I said as I stuck my pinkie into my ear and massaged to ease the pain.
Bolin sheepishly chuckled. "Sorry, Korr…" He apologized, shortening my name.
I bowed my head and blushed for reasons unknown to me. "It's, uh… It's okay." I reassured him. I lifted my head a bit then and caught a glimpse of him blush in response. 'What's that about?' I asked myself. 'Does he like me or something? No, that's ridiculous. He thought we were 'cute' when he caught us leaning against each other on the bus… Unless he was hiding his envy. Maybe that's why he pointed it out, getting the attention of everyone on the bus to make us feel uncomfortable with each other… I thought then quickly brushed that theory off. 'No, that's absurd. Bolin is too nice of a person to do that… I don't know, this is so confusing. I concluded before snapping my attention to Bolin, who was snapping his fingers in my face.
"Hey, Korra! Daydreamin'?" He asked with a playful grin plastered on his face.
"No, just… I just zoned out." I said. "I'm fine, really." I gave him a smile absentmindedly which he returned along with a deep chuckle.
"Hey, Mako!" Bolin called, causing Mako to look up from his phone.
"Yeah, Bo?" He asked, putting his phone in his jean's pocket.
"Where we goin' to eat?" He asked, rubbing his stomach to indicate he's hungry.
"Oh, right!" He said as if he had forgotten. And to be honest, I forgot too up until now. "Uh, we can go to Wendy's like you suggested." He settled.
"Alright, let's go." Bolin said as we started to walk in the direction of the restaurant. "It takes five minutes to walk to Wendy's, it's 2:55 now," he continued as he pulled out his phone to look at the time, "… We'll get there by 3:00 then probably stay there to eat for 10 minutes. That way we'll be back at the school parking lot 5 minutes before Asami said she'll be out." He concluded, doing the math in 30 seconds or less that Mako and I would take at least 5 long minutes to figure out.
As Bolin predicted, we arrived at Wendy's 5 minutes later. We walked through the door and approached the counter. A young man turned the corner from behind a rack containing food and other sorts of things. He had a short, bleach-blonde fauxhawk and a piercing in his septum.
"What can I get you guys?" He asked with a jaded tone.
Bolin was quick to answer. "I'll have a Double-Baconator without mayo, large fries, 6-piece chicken nuggets with barbeque sauce, a small chili, and a large soda." He finished in one breath as if he ordered the same thing every time he came here.
The man, whose name tag read 'Kurt', placed the order into the computer then looked to Mako. "What'll you have?" He asked, getting ready to type it in.
"I'll just have a small Apple Pecan Salad with raspberry dressing and a small soda." He said simply without having to take a look at the menu.
Kurt typed in his order then looked to me with the same disinterested tone and expression. "And you?"
I really don't know what I want, nor would I have the confidence to place a full order, let alone make a coherent sentence without stammering. So I just said the first thing that came to my mind. "… I'll have the same…" I said, pointing with my thumb briefly to Mako.
"Oh! And a small Grilled Chicken Salad with a small soda." Bolin added.
"Right!" Mako exclaimed. "For Asami…"
He typed in the two orders. "That'll be $19.75." He said.
Mako pulled out an old and frayed brown leather wallet that looks like it went through the washing machine. He took out a 20 dollar bill and handed it to the cashier. Suddenly I feel guilty for causing Mako to pay for my food.
"It'll be out in a minute." He said before placing three cups, one large and two small, on the counter.
We grabbed our cups then went to go fill them up; Bolin getting Dr. Pepper, and Mako and I getting Coca-Cola, along with seltzer for Asami. One minute later, we got our food then sat down eat at a table next to a large window.
Bolin spread out his meal, taking up most of the room on his side of the table. He began to eat right away, gnawing violently at his burger like he hasn't eaten in weeks.
Mako takes his time, spreading the pecans over the salad evenly along with the dressing. He took small bites and chewed his meal, unlike his brother who basically just shoves the food in his mouth.
I take my time, too. I don't use the salad dressing, but I spread the pecans over the salad before I begin to eat. For some reason, I feel weird eating in public. I don't usually don't eat salad. My diet highly consists of mostly meats, which is rather necessary for my martial art workouts. But I guess this is a nice adjustment, eating something actually healthy for a change rather than fruit, meat, and coffee.
We talked about one topic during our meal: video games. Apparently, Mako and Bolin own a PS3 with tons of games like (not sure if most of these titles are for Sony) Outlast, Grand Theft Auto IV and V, The Last of Us, Assassin's Creed 3, Tomb Raider, The Orange Box Collection, Beyond Two Souls, all that stuff. When I was a kid, all I had was a Sega Genesis with only Sonic The Hedgehog to play.
"Alright!" Bolin breathed. "Looks like it's time to go." He said as he gathered all the trash on the table then threw it away, placing the trays on top of the garbage can.
Mako grabbed the bag with Asami's food in it then we were out the door.
Just as Bolin predicted, once again, we were back at school in 5 minutes flat. We saw Asami leaning against her car with her phone out, maybe calling or texting someone.
"Oh! Hey, I was just gonna call you guys." Asami said after she saw us walking toward her.
As we got closer, I saw that her clothes were covered in motor oil as well as her cheeks, and her hair was tied at the back in the middle.
"Well, we're here now. And we got you food." Bolin replied before gesturing toward the plastic bag Mako was holding with the Wendy's logo on it.
"Thanks. What is it?" She asked as she pushed herself off the trunk of the car with her elbow.
"It's a Grilled Chicken Salad." Mako answered, handing her the bag.
"We better get goin'." Bolin spoke up. "Uncle Toza's gonna get truly pissed if we're not home by 4:00." He said then hopped in the front seat of Asami's Cobra. "Shot-Gun!" He yelled.
Asami got in the driver's seat and started up the engine. "Use the left door, the other one's stuck." She stated.
Mako opened the car door then gestured inside. "After you." He said politely in his deep voice. He held out his hand.
I took it without hesitation then slid inside the car, him sliding in after me. "Thanks…" I said awkwardly, a blush rising to my cheeks for like the third time today.
"You're welcome." He reciprocated the awkwardness with just as much confidence as me, which is little to none.
I pulled the seatbelt over my chest then clicked it into its outlet. I took notice of the upholstery, which is shiny, black leather; smooth to the touch.
"Everybody buckled in!?" Asami asked in a loud voice, revving the engine twice.
"Yeah!" The three of us answered in unison.
"Alright…" She shifted the gear into reverse. Throwing her right arm to grip on the headrest of Bolin's seat, she violently backed out of the space with perfect precision. She brought her arm back around then quickly grabbed hold of the gearshift; putting it into drive, practically forcing the pedal to the metal, she drove out of the parking lot and onto the street with a sharp turn that made Korra jerk abruptly against the door and tightly grip the handle above the backseat window.
"Oh! Sorry, Korra." Asami apologized, looking at her in the rearview mirror. "I forgot you're not used to my driving."
"No, it's fine…" Korra nervously reassured. "It's just that I haven't been in a car for a while…"
"Here… Let's put on some music." Bolin suggested as he clicked on the radio then pressed the CD button. "This is American Idiot, right Asami?" Bolin asked, making sure he was correct.
"Yeah…" She replied, quickly facing him to answer before turning her eyes back to the road. Suddenly she slammed on the brakes. "Shit! Traffic!" She exclaimed.
"Looks like we're gonna be stuck here for a while." Mako pointed out as he brought up his right knee to his chest, embracing it.
The music came on and Bolin skipped it to the second track. In fact, it was one of my favorite songs on the album: Jesus of Suburbia.
I'm the son of rage and love
The Jesus of Suburbia
From the bible of, none of the above
On a steady diet of
Soda pop and Ritalin
No one ever died for my sins in hell
As far as I can tell
At least the ones I got away with
The four of us began to absentmindedly move to the beat; Asami rapping her fingers on the steering wheel, Bolin bobbing his head, Mako tapping his knuckles against his knee and mouthing the words, and I tapped my heels to the guitar. And there's nothin' wrong with me
This is how I'm supposed to be
In a land of make believe
That don't believe in me
Whispering began to echo throughout the car, becoming louder with every verse. It's a very powerful track, and relatable to me in a way. Just by connecting your life with a song can wash all your troubles away. It doesn't have to be the actual meaning of the song that connects you to the music; it's what happens in your own life that makes you create that certain connotation. Get my television fixed
Sitting on my crucifix
In the living room or my private womb
While the Moms and Brats are away
To fall in love and fall in debt
To alcohol and cigarettes
And Mary Jane
To keep me insane,
Doin' someone else's cocaine
I absentmindedly began to whisper the lyrics as the rest's words were a normal, audible tone. I didn't want to raise my voice any higher in fear of being made fun of or misjudged as 'subliminally impulsive' as I like to call the term. But it seems the three of them have accepted me with open arms instantly and recognize me as their friend. So why would they pull the risky move of pushing me away by making me feel insecure? They wouldn't. They're all too nice to do something as cruel as to cause me more anxiety than I already hold. Though my own mind tells me differently. And there's nothing wrong with me
This is how I'm supposed to be
In a land of make believe
That don't believe in me
But Billie Joe Armstrong just grabbed me by the wrist and forced me to raise my voice; telling me to be heard, and that as long as I don't care about anyone's pre-judged opinion it's okay to speak up; to not be afraid of any outlandish repercussions. His voice blew through the self-installed speakers of the car as a whirlwind of reassuring words that caused me to raise my voice at part 2 of the song: City of The Damned. At the center of the Earth
In the parking lot
Of the 7-11 where I was taught
The motto was just a lie
It says home is where your heart is
But what a shame
Cause everyone's heart
Doesn't beat the same
It's beating out of time
Mako seemed to have heard my voice, because he looked over at me with a wide smile plastered on his face; gleaming eyes of amber telling me it's alright to continue. So that's what I did: I kept on singing with the rest of them in unison, throwing away my insecurities as I imagined Billie Joe himself smiling proudly at my progress. City of the dead
At the end of another lost highway
Signs misleadin' to nowhere
City of the damned
Lost children with dirty faces today
No one really seems to care
It felt as if the lyrics flowed from me like a broken faucet; like sand from a dirt road rising into the air in stillness; as if fire was dancing with its orange and white flames flickering for not an audience, but for itself. It was as if I was a leaf in the wind. I felt a sense of peacefulness and pure joy having Mako look at me with those amber eyes and smile at me with an unreadable subcategory of happiness that I couldn't quite put my finger on. But I liked it. It was… Comforting, and supportive in a way unexplainable even to myself. I read the graffiti
In the bathroom stall
Like the holy scriptures of the shopping mall
And so it seemed to confess
It didn't say much
But it only confirmed that
The center of the earth
Is the end of the world
And I could really care less
We all got way into the song, so we decided to opened our windows and blast the speakers. For what reason? I honestly don't know. Maybe it's a subconscious intuition that makes us young adults want for everyone around them to hear our music; hear and genuinely to how we feel. Either that or we're just extremely obnoxious. City of the dead I don't care if you don't I don't care Everyone is so full of shit
At the end of another lost highway
Signs misleadin' to nowhere
City of the damned
Lost children with dirty faces today
No one really seems to care
I don't care if you don't
I don't care if you don't care
[X4]
Born and raised by hypocrites
Hearts recycled but never saved
From the cradle to the grave
We are the kids of war and peace
From Anaheim to the middle east
We are the stories and disciples
Of the Jesus of suburbia
In my mind, the lyrics reiterated my home life, and just made me feel so much better getting out my frustrations through Green Day rather than through my bedroom door or wall. It was like this Album was written for me personally, the way it replicates my thoughts though through differing associations. Land of make believe
And don't believe in me
Land of make believe
And I don't believe
And I don't care!
I don't care! [x4]
Part 3: I Don't Care ended then swiftly transitioned into part 4: Dearly Beloved, which we all sang together in unison; trapped in the lyrics and melody as if were a wonderful prison of our innermost thoughts. The one's that make you sit in silence, completely still, staring at a wall without blinking, and just think for hours on end. Dearly beloved are you listenin'? Oh, therapy, can you please fill the void?
I can't remember a word that you were sayin'
Are we demented or am I disturbed?
The space that's in between insane and insecure
Am I retarded or am I just overjoyed?
Nobody's perfect and I stand accused
For lack of a better word, and that's my best excuse
The heavy bass guitar from Tales of Another Broken Home flamed through the speakers, snapping us back to attention to sing along with Billie Joe with great significance and worth.
To live and not to breathe
Is to die in tragedy
To run, to run away
To find what you believe
It made me think of the South Pole, my old home… And my father. And I leave behind
This hurricane of fuckin' lies
Just like the lies and false morals of the southern village living in the past as opposed to living in this day and age, whose standards apply to justice rather than guidelines of pure idiocy forced unto the unsuspecting village by the olden days. I lost my faith to this,
this town that don't exist
So I run, I run away
The lights of masochist
Just like I've lost faith in the place I grew up for 16 years in, living by absurd and preposterous laws that are essentially made by a dictator in a dictatorship. But to me, faith means one has always had belief and reliance in or of a certain situation and/or being. But when one has never had faith, it will always be a devotion brought on by a state of affairs that occur around you throughout life that cause you to believe in what you accept as true and logical. And I leave behind
This hurricane of fuckin' lies
And I walked this line
A million and one fuckin' times
But not this time
I truly want to leave behind and forget all the shit that was brought upon me by something my parents believed in; something that was right and just. But this is a chance to start anew; to start a new life with new friends and new surroundings. I do NOT want a repeat of what essentially caused my social anxiety. Though probably scientifically impossible, it feels as if that's the source of all my mental issues. I don't feel any shame, I won't apologize
When there ain't nowhere you can go
Running away from pain when you've been victimized
Tales from another broken… HOOOOOOOME!
Do I feel any shame? No! How can I? I didn't have a child at the supposedly young age considered to be immoral by the Southern Tribe. I did not do the things my parents have, and I don't see a reason to be tormented for it. But I was, and soon the passionate ones had enough of it then decided to raid our house without a warrant, kill my father, and run from the scene of the crime they created. It's a sad tale from a broken home You're leavin'...
You're leavin'...
You're leavin'...
Ah, you're leavin' home...
I've left home…
And I'm damn well proud of it.
I worked hard on this chapter since I obviously had the time to. But I hope y'all at least liked the chapter a little bit. If you didn't, go find another story.
But in all seriousness, I'd appreciate feed back because I need something to smile at since its been a hard week.
Thanks for all the reviews, Favorites, and Follows. I love you all, and I'll see you cool cat-gators on the flip side B)
-TheClaudMaster
