reactions welcome bc idk where this is going lol... thanks for my consistent reviewers! i luh you...
"No," he said, returning her sarcasm. "Please, enlighten me. Feel free to smack my head with the table again." He felt tense; usually he wouldn't have reacted so inordinately, but this morning was a critical low in his college career. Not only had he never cheated on Suki, but he had never gotten so drunk. Stupid drunk, the guys would have called it. But 'stupid' didn't do it justice. Being drunk made the blame place murky, and without something to point at, Sokka found himself lost and angry. He wanted to swing his club at this person who was not him – this thing that had happened beyond the boundaries of his control. Where was he? What was he? If he could do this to Suki, he was lying to himself, lying to Suki… and what else was he capable of now? Suki was not his first, but that didn't make the act any less important, and less heavy. She had changed him. Found value where there was nothing but lust and pride before. While he dwelled on this, he let his head sink again, and was met with a sharp flick to the forehead.
"Hey, I meant it," the girl said again, louder this time. She pointed to his face. "You're going to get drool all over. It's my first day and they told me I'm in charge of cleaning these counters. And I don't want to clean up your mouth slobber."
"Are you blind?" Sokka shouted from his bowed position on the table. "I'm not sleeping! I'm fucking depressed! Do you see my mouth open?"
She fell silent momentarily. Then Sokka's chair moved away from the counter. He looked down to find the ceramic tiles of the shop had grasped the legs of his barstool, and were flipping backwards, taking his seat with him.
"I am blind, FYI," reported the foggy-eyed earthbender. "And I'm a runaway, broke enough to work in this hell hole catering to pricks like you. You're a full grown man. Whatever the fuck is depressing you can't be all that bad."
Embarrassed that she had drawn attention to their conflict, Sokka jumped off the barstool and collected his backpack and keys without responding. He pushed the glass doors open with his head down when Suki's voice made him snap his neck upwards.
"Where have you been?" she asked. Her eyes were narrowed, confused, and worry made her voice tremble. Sokka recessed back into Omashu's. "I've been looking all over for you. You weren't at your apartment so I came here to ask about you." She wasn't trying to yell at him, but the surprise of finding him at last – and here, for all places – made her voice loud and her tone sharp. Sokka noticed more faces had turned to him.
"Let's talk outside," he offered. "It's cramped in here."
She shot him a glance that gave him goose bumps. "What is there to talk about?" she challenged. "Tell me here."
"Yeah, Snoozles, tell her here," called the blind girl from the counter. She had stopped wiping down the smoothie glasses, and instead propped her head up on her elbows. She gave the illusion of interest with perked brows and high cheeks. Had Sokka not known she was blind, he wouldn't have guessed it, the way she could imitate facial expressions like this.
"Who's she?"
"Newfound adversary," Sokka mumbled. "Babe, please. Outside?"
She followed him reluctantly. He held her by her wrist and led her to his Oldsmobile. He leaned against the driver door and opened a pack of cigarettes. He held the box to her in offering.
"You don't smoke!" she exclaimed, and held her nose. "Where did you even get that? It's gross. Put it out. Who are you trying to impress? Where were you?"
"I used to smoke before we met," he confessed slowly. He looked up and exhaled. "In the South Pole, everyone smokes. Katara and I smoked since we were kids. Here, she smokes every once in a while. I see her. But I quit because I knew you didn't like it." He smiled warmly at her, and despite her anger and confusion, her expression softened. She put both hands at her side, and now reached up to rub her elbow. She looked at the ground. "I was still trying to get you to know I existed," he laughed. "You were telling this girl that you hated guys who smoked. So I quit the next day."
"That's sweet of you to even remember." She paused to think. "That was two years ago."
"It's no big deal." He breathed deep, pulling the burning end of the tobacco closer to his face, his full lips tight around the yellow skin of the cigarette. "Do you want to try it?" he asked without looking at her.
"No."
He grunted and spit. "It tastes bad," he admitted. "I didn't like it at first either."
"Where were you?" Suki asked with crossed arms. "I was worried. You weren't answering your phone."
Sokka had never felt cornered before. He threw the butt of his cigarette under his boot and sighed. He pushed his hands through his hair and clasped his neck. "I need a minute," he said. "Give me a minute."
"Why?" Suki tapped her foot with an impatient, uneven rhythm. "Just tell me where you were. Were you with that girl?"
"What? Inside? No!"
"Then what is it?"
"Can you please just – just…" What was there to say? How could he explain his guilt to her? Sokka was not a practiced liar – in the family, that had always been Katara's forte. He felt that there was no choice. If he didn't come clean now, their relationship would never be the same again. She could already tell something was up and they had only been around one another for five minutes. The cigarette calmed his nerves but there was a buzz, too, and he looked into Suki's eyes wildly. This is it, he thought. If she was going to throw away two years of their lives because of his stupid mistake, that was her decision.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because I have to tell you something," he said. He reached for her hands and held them in his. "I want you to know that I love you and it was a mistake." He recounted the events in a low voice. She covered her eyes with the crook of her elbow and turned away from him.
Their energy anatomy exam was two days away. It was part of a gruesome round of exams that Aang hadn't expected on his arrival here. As a junior transfer, he felt he was constantly behind. Even in those rare moments were he excelled, he knew he was never ahead – only on par with the rest of the class. He sat in the library and scanned the pages of his textbook restlessly. The girl who sat across from him an hour ago was trying desperately to get his attention. Though he had spent his youth away from the opposite sex, Aang could tell this girl was trying. And trying hard, too. After offering him a stick of gum, 'accidentally' kicking him in the shin while swinging her legs beneath the table, and commenting on his unique tattoos, Aang could tell she was running out of ideas.
At last, as expected, she threw a small, folded piece of paper at him. Aang looked up with a question mark on his face.
"It's for you," she whispered, and a boy sitting next to her coughed, "Ah-hem!"
Aang opened the note.
i'm just gonna come out & say it. i think ur cute & this is my number… ;) txt me urs? – luv meng
He folded the note back up and smiled nervously. She was beaming at him. Unsure what to do, he gave her a thumbs up but shrugged. "I don't have a phone," he lied quietly. "Um. I'll see you around. I have to go." Predictably, as he stood up to go, his pocket started ringing and buzzing. He didn't answer the call under Meng's glaring. But once he ducked out of the library, he called Guru Pathik back on the spot.
"I'm good," Aang promised when the man asked again and again. He threw his backpack on the short grass. Fall was fast approaching at Four Nations, and a few trees in the distance stood red and orange against one another, their thick leaves dappled with color. "It's really gorgeous here," he told his adoptive father. "I wish you could come see it."
"Ah, I remember the Earth Kingdom well," Pathik said in reverie. "The beginning of each season is so well-defined. In the temples, it's easy to forget, something secondary. The weather merely fills the space between meditation, and there isn't enough plant life for us to keep track. Most trees are pines, and pines stay green for most of the year." He hesitated before asking, "The culture. It suits you?"
"I'm still trying, Guru Pathik. But to be honest, I miss home." Just as Aang finished this thought, a blip in the distance caught his eye. Katara was sitting in the grass with a book in hand. Her gray hoodie and loose brown hair told him she wasn't expecting company – she seemed to be the type to dress up for meetings – and the image of Katara alone made his heart leap. He had forgotten to exchange numbers at their last encounter and this new find filled him with inexplicable joy. He almost didn't want to disturb her there. "But I love her," said Aaing. "I mean, here! I love it here."
"This is safer for you," he said. "The virus that took your father from you was spreading fast. And the Fire Nation didn't exactly give us a choice… Have you told anyone that you are the Avatar?"
He found he couldn't take his eyes off Katara. Two pigeons joined her on her blanket, and she threw them pieces of her coffee cake. "Not a soul."
"That is good news. The less people that know, the better. The politics are murky now. We can't afford to get word out. I'm expecting you back for your winter vacation. Aang?"
"I have to go." The airbender dropped his phone back in his baggy pockets and made a course for Katara before stopping midway. He went back and picked up his backpack. What to say to her? Why did she make him this nervous? It couldn't just be her sex – that girl who had thrown him the note didn't make him nervous at all. Certainly, she did make his stomach turn, but in a different way…
He stood up and walked towards her again. "What if she doesn't want company?" he asked himself aloud. "Ugh, this is so confusing. I'll just go up to her and say hi… hi, Katara. Yeah. I mean, what's the worse she can say? Hi, Katara. Hi, Katara…"
In his muttering, he didn't notice that he had fallen within earshot. Katara looked up and grinned. "Hi," she laughed, and stood up to hug him. She said, "You were mumbling," just as she parted from his neck, and Aang felt his skin stand on end, the warmth of her breath lingering and sweet.
"I didn't want to bug you," he stammered. "But… but I saw you here and thought, I don't know, I'd come say hi."
"You're welcome to bug me any time." She sat down and tore off a piece of coffee cake. "Try this. Suki made it last night. She used brown sugar instead of regular sugar."
"She cooks for you. That's really sweet," he said, and took a bite.
"She takes good care of me."
"It's good to have friends that close. I miss the friends I used to have before I came here."
"You never told me where you were before," Katara realized suddenly. "Where did you transfer from?"
Before he had the chance the answer, one of the greedier pigeons picked up Katara's bag in search of more cake. The contents of the bag spilled on the grass, and Katara cried out and shooed the bird away. "Little pig!" she called out, and threw the remaining chunk of cake square into the bird's face. It dropped her khaki bag and chased after the pastry.
"Nice shot!" Aang said through tears. He couldn't help it – angry Katara was hilarious. He stood up and helped her put her bag back together. She seemed more flustered than she should have been, looking around at the mess in a violent hurry, and Aang dismissed it until he saw, from the corner of his eye, a small box that read "Pregnancy Test." Katara grabbed this item first and threw it in her backpack without saying anything.
Aang fished between the blades of grass for pens, pencils, hair clips, and a plastic box of floss. He handed these to Katara, feeling he wasn't welcome to hold the bag. Suddenly she felt distant and uncomfortable to him, and he hated that he had spotted that pink box. He didn't know what to ask in order to break this new ice – "Hey, I saw that preggo test in your bag. You expectin'? Who's the daddy?" He felt his face warm at his own surprise and averted his gaze from hers. He didn't know why, but he felt inexplicably bothered. Almost angry. Years with the monks had prepared him to deal with those unexpected torrents of petty rage – but he didn't know why he felt this way and it upset him further.
"Thanks," she said when the final ink pen made its way into her palm. "That bird… crazy how big the animals get around this campus."
"It's because undiscovered philanthropists like you keep feeding them," he said, trying to control his tone, and he smiled when she grinned at him. It was a little sickly – one edge of her mouth didn't lift all the way, and Aang detected some paleness beneath her eyes, as though she'd seen a ghost but held in the horror. "Listen," he started, and though her eyes widened, he kept speaking. "I don't want to overstep my boundaries –"
"Then don't," she interrupted clearly. "Please." Her eyes narrowed to blue slits and the muscles of her cheek tightened. This reaction surprised him. He had expected her to be more open about discussing her private life with him, possibly because he already felt so close to her, but he realized that they were still fairly new acquaintances and a night at her place didn't mean they were best buddies. He shifted on his toes uncomfortably, and took a hint.
"Okay."
"I'm actually going to head home," she stated flatly. She began rolling her blanket.
Frantically, Aang said, "Don't!" and when she looked up, he noticed there were tears in her eyes. "Don't go now," he pleaded lightheartedly. "C'mon, it's only like… what, six? Let's go to dinner. Let's do something. I don't know. Anything you want."
"I'm not feeling it," she answered. "I'm sorry. I should go get some rest." He was afraid to argue with her or press her to join him – all he wanted was that even-toothed smile that had captured him on his first day. Theconfusing anger bubbled up in him again, pulled his throat closed. He watched her back disappear over the dipping hills leading to the upperclassmen dorms. In a huff, and in spite of everything he had learned about preserving the planet in his youth, he blasted the fat pigeon with a gust of whirling wind that left it nearly featherless and shivering.