Katara was worried. Not about anything bad to be clear, but still worried. Her feelings were getting stronger, no matter how hard she tried to get them to changed direction. For one thing, that gesture of making breakfast, made her feel that undeniable yet not-named emotion. Was Aang trying to make her fall for him even more?
He was someone special, she could tell, and despite everything that had happened to him in the past, he still had a good heart. He had thought about her well-being, in a way, which was only reinforced by his words.
"I figured you could use a break for a change."
Katara didn't know why that statement made her heart leap. Maybe it was because no one had thought to do that for her since after her mother died. In a lot of ways, she was forced t grow out of her childhood skin into an older, mature person. The fact that someone took care of something for her was nice, especially when that person should be more focused on themselves.
In Art III, they were learning about photo realism, paintings that look like pictures taken from a camera. Looking around, observation showed the others were paying rapt attention to Mrs. Miller, but her mind was lost in thought. Something else was bothering Katara, about this morning when they went to get Aang's schedule. Something she was even more concerned about.
Aang had acted weird in front of Mr. Reynolds. Sure the guy was a creep, but there was nothing to signify him as a threat. Yet Aang had looked downright terrified when the man had spoken to him. It was like he was remembering how men used to come to him for a "fix". The idea of someone doing that to Aang made her feel rage bubbling under her skin. There was more to this than what Aang had said, that maybe his nerves were a little more wired than previous thought.
Maybe she could help him to open up about his feelings, like before, when they had first met, but Katara knew how hard it was to do it. There were some things that felt it was better to keep quiet about. Like her wrist...
The bell rang, signifying the end of Art III. Closing her workbook and textbook, Katara bolted out of the room to head to Algebra. Oh, she really disliked math; that was her brother's forte considering his career options, but it was a necessary evil to get through high school. The halls were overwhelmed with students going to their next classes, different people converging into the wide spaces.
Amid this mass was the tall boy with brown hair, making his way to the lockers. For seventeen, Aang had to be one of the tallest teenagers there was. Katara couldn't help but notice how some of the girls looked his way; some curious, others hungrily as if they wanted a piece of him. Jealousy smoldered under her skin at the idea that those girls only saw a male to conquer.
Aang was his own person, who had a traumatic past. A very special someone who had undergone a lot of trouble to get to the point where he was now. Thinking about the challenges that he faced and will be facing in the years following his escape, there was hope that recovery was possible. But if anyone tried to take advantage of Aang when he was vulnerable, she was more than willing to protect him.
Walking to her locker to get math supplies next, their eyes met, ad they smiled. She couldn't help but notice how he seemed to shine, as if being in school was the best thing that ever happened. For him it probably was. He had dreamed of this day for a very long time. It made her happy to see him that way.
They met up after getting their things. "What's next for you?" she asked.
"Algebra," he immediately replied without looking. "Mr. Craig."
Heart fluttering, she grinned in delight. "Me too, Aang. He's...a little eccentric, but likable for the most part."
They went down a couple of halls and entered Mr. Craig's classroom. The teacher was somewhat elderly, slightly hunched, wrinkles on his face, and hair more white than black. But his brown eyes, dark like chocolate, were pleasant if a little serious. Other students were streaming into the room, taking seats. Aang and Katara found two right next to each other, near the front.
The bell rang and class began. Mr. Craig turned to them, eyes lingering on Aang. "I see we have a new student this year." His voice was slight creaky, as if he smoked. He gestured to Aang. "May we have a name, young man?"
Aware that eyes were watching him, Aang cleared his throat. "It's Aang Windstorm, sir."
The old man nodded, even as shocked gasps and murmurings broke out. "Welcome to Algebra, Aang. I hope you have an enjoyable year with us." His voice was warm when he announced, and some more of Aang's anxiety from this morning was evaporated. Mr. Craig turned back to the board to begin the lecture. He did a recap of the basics, making sure everyone knew where to begin, before saying, "I will assign textbooks for today along with this, since we have shortened hours. If you please, go the side of the room and grab a book before coming to me."
Students scrambled to get their textbooks, and at the corner of his vision, Aang saw the strange girl from the previous class. Her dark green eye was watching him, face blank, but she looked away when their gazes met. Feeling a little unnerved, he grabbed the book and went over to Mr. Craig, who was using a scanner to enter the students' books. Once he had his copy, he went over to Katara who was already sitting.
"Who is that?" he asked in an undertone, nodding to black haired girl.
Katara looked over, then grimaced. "The tomboy of the school. Toph Beifong, one of the riches kids around."
Looking over at her, there didn't seem to be anything remotely rich about the girl. She wore ripped, faded jeans, a t-shirt that said Death to Barbie, and her bangs covered a good portion of her face. It was kind of a miracle she hadn't run into anyone.
Looking back at Katara's grimace, he said, "You don't seem to like her very much."
Blushing, she looked down. "I try to get along with her, but any attempt had been tossed aside as if she doesn't care. She doesn't talk much unless someone gets in her face. Trust me, she's been in a lot of fights."
"If she's so much trouble, then why isn't she suspended?" It confused Aang to think that someone could get away with that kind of life. Since his return to society, the last thing he wanted to do was fight someone unless absolutely necessary.
Katara raised a brow. "Oh, she would be, if not for the fact that her dad is the principal."
"Oh," he said, thinking. "But still, he can't be okay with it, her fighting others. Wouldn't it just make him look bad to the students and teachers?"
Sighing, she rubbed her eyes. "Most would think so, Aang," she muttered, before glaring at the girl. "Unfortunately, the committee of the town doesn't want to get on Mr. Beifong's bad side, since he funds for a good portion of the activities during tourist seasons."
Aang wanted to argue, but the sight of Katara's glare in the girl's direction made him stop short. The last thing he wanted was to provoke her because she was one scary lady when ticked off. Instead he decided to drop it for the moment and instead asked about her latest design. Katara's eyes sparkled as she told him of a necklace with three rows of crystal and smooth beads in different shades of caramel, brown, and green that someone had requested.
By the time the bell rang early, Aang was fascinated. Her drawing and description were remarkable, and a little more of his heart fell for her. She was so talented, untainted, that he wondered yet again why she was hanging around with him, the tainted, the used, and broken boy. But it was a gift that he didn't intend to waste. He was here, alive and away from that mistress, with friends and a mother who cared for him deeply.
Sometimes...he would forget the past.
(***)
Most of the day was a blur to him, and there were only two classes left. Gym before biology, but if it were up to him, he would avoid Gym. For one thing, he didn't have the proper clothes for such a class and he didn't relish the idea of undressing in the boys' locker room where privacy was almost nonexistent. However the teacher, Mrs. Fallows, said that he could stay out of class for that one day but better have something for tomorrow.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Aang slumped on the bleachers and watched, along with Toph Beifong. She was sitting on the far side of the bleachers, looking bored out of her mind, and Aang wasn't sure if he should talk or stay away. In the end, he opted to leave her be; something told him that she wasn't as friendly as some of the other kids, though he couldn't really understand why.
Pulling out his sketchbook and pencils, he drew for a while, finishing the sketch's darker strokes. The picture depicted Katara, smiling and waving at him from across the table at the ice cream store. He really needed to find something else to draw, but for now he was content.
Class ended a lot sooner than he thought, and as Aang put away his things and stood up, he noticed that Toph had left already. What was it with this girl and why did she seem so in a hurry?
Biology passed just as quickly, and the next thing he knew he was in the large auditorium, sitting with the siblings on either side. The principal, Lao Beifong, was addressing the student body, saying how glad he was to see both old and new faces, but something about his tone made it clear to Aang that he didn't want to be here, despite the forced cheerfulness. Aang reckoned Mr. Beifong wanted to be at home instead of watching over a bunch of teenagers.
"I hope everyone has a safe stay. If you have concerns, feel free to leave them with the secretary who will notify me posthaste." He waved at the crowd, who applauded. "We will see you all bright and early tomorrow. Have a good rest of your evening."
As one, the crowd stood and headed for the doors, into the halls, then onto the buses or cars. Aang's mind was buzzing from the day, his backpack slung on his shoulder. Despite the shortness of it, this had been a golden day for him, walking in the halls, going to most of the classes with Katara, and getting to know some of teachers.
Even his interaction with Mr. Reynolds seemed dumb now. Not everyone wanted a piece of him, Aang knew, and maybe he should at least give the man a chance.
As he was about to get in the car, however, a female voice spoke behind him. "I know who you are, Aang Windstorm."
He turned, paling, as he faced Toph Beifong, whose porcelain face was scowling at him. Aang swallowed nervously. "What are you talking about?"
She snorted in disbelief. "You really think I don't know? You were kidnapped two years ago in New York."
Feeling sick, he backed into the car, and it was at this point the siblings came to him. "What do you want, Beifong?" Katara demanded.
With her good eye, she glared. "Well, if it isn't Madam Fussy-Britches. Nice to see you too," she said sarcastically, as if she couldn't believe Katara had the nerve to talk at all.
Sokka had to hold her back, but glared at Toph in return. "Answer her, Toph. Why are you picking on Aang?"
Black tresses fluttered as Toph shook her head. "I don't like the look of him, River Heads, and neither should you. People who get kidnapped are bound to be trouble."
"And here I thought trouble was your middle name," Katara muttered loud enough for Toph to hear.
"I've been itching for a fight, Rivers, and if you're not careful, you'll find yourself on the ground in pain."
Aang, who had been silent, finally made his voice croak out. "How did you know?"
"The news?" she said slowly as if he was dumber than he looked. "My dad makes it a point to know the dangers of the world and it's consequences. I remember the news well; it was all over the stations back then."
Aang looked to the siblings for help, feeling more insecure by the second. Sokka came to the rescue. "So what? Not everyone watches the news, especially teenagers."
"Besides," Katara added, "Aang isn't bad just because of what had happened to him. It's really none of your business, either."
Toph shrugged, face blank. "I'm just saying that the people who took him before are bound to come for him, and when that happens, you can bet it won't be pretty." With that last retort she strode off towards a black car that was driven by a chauffeur. They peeled out of the lot and were gone in a cloud of dust, leaving the trio in shocked silence.
An urge came over Aang right then and there: Run. If Toph Beifong knew of his kidnapping, how many others were aware of the fact?
Katara made him look at her, hands firm on his shoulders. "Calm down, it's going to be okay."
"She knows," he whispered shakily, stomach clenching. "She knows what had happened."
Sokka joined them. "Buddy, she only knows about you being kidnapped and expects the worst, but she doesn't know what you went through."
"And she won't find out, if we can help it," Katara added.
Aang really wanted to believe them, but based on past events, who was to say Toph was wrong? Someone had come after him before; they were bound to do it again. It was only a matter of time. The mistress wanted him and, when she got hold of Aang, hell was going to break loose.
Unless they stopped her first.
Turning away he muttered, "Let's just go home," got in the car, and waited until the siblings followed and the engine rumbled to life.
So much for a perfect first day.