Chapter 3: Locked In

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Jet questioned as Azula led him down the stairs to one of the basement art studios.

"Yes, now stop being so nervous."

"But what if I'm not what she's looking – "

"You are. Trust me," she insisted. "Her final project is due tomorrow. You're doing her a huge favor. Who knows? Maybe she'll be so grateful she'll take you out to dinner."

"You really think that will happen?"

"No."

He shot her a dirty look.

"Well she didn't take me out to dinner and I posed for her too."

"Yeah, but you're her best – "

"Shut up, we're here." Azula stopped in front of Mai's door and knocked, entering before Mai called for them to come in. "All set?"

"All set," Mai replied.

Jet walked into the studio to find several incredibly detailed black-and-white drawings of other students all laid out on canvases. "Wow, these are…" He stopped in front of Mai's drawing of Azula. She was drawn midair completely horizontally with her arms extended out to her sides, shooting fire from her feet. It had just occurred to him that he'd never seen Azula firebend before. "…beautiful."

"Thank you. And thanks for helping me out – " She paused. "Jet, right? We've never been properly introduced."

"Oh, where are my manners?" Azula stepped in. "Mai, meet Jet, your model for today. Jet, meet Mai, my roommate and best friend."

"Hi," Jet breathed. "N-Nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise."

"Well, I guess I'll be on my way. I've got some last-minute studying to do." Azula started heading toward the door.

"Okay," Mai said. "Thanks for letting me borrow your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?! He's not my – why does everybody think we're – "

"Okay, okay. Your friend, whatever. My misunderstanding."

"It's fine," Azula sighed. "I'm leaving. Have fun you two!"

Azula left them alone in the art studio but knowing full well that Mai wasn't the world's best conversationalist, she decided to execute a little scheme guaranteed to spark some banter. Before closing the door behind her, she clicked the lock and smirked. "Guess they'll have to talk now."

"So," Jet said, trying not to seem nervous, "what is your final project about anyway?"

"Six bodies, six poses."

Azula wasn't lying when she said Mai was a woman of few words. "Real people or could they have been made up?"

"They could have been made up – I'm sure that's what most of the students are doing – but I draw much better when I have a model. Something physical right in front of me. Lack of imagination I guess."

"Well, I'm happy to be of service." He stole another glance at her previous drawings, which really were quite impressive. "Hey… it looks like you've already drawn six people. Were you not happy with one of them or something?"

"No, it's not that. I realized I had only drawn female students. I'd like to diversify, get some practice drawing men. Well, that, and I don't want my male art professor thinking I'm trying to make some sort of feminist statement."

"I see." She was very peculiar in the way she spoke. Very matter of fact. Almost devoid of expression. He was determined to make her smile or laugh at least once during this session. "So how do you want me? I-I mean, how would you like me to pose?"

"Hm."

She gave him a look over, studying his features. The more she analyzed him, the more anxious he grew. Hopefully it didn't show.

"Sit on the floor. Knees bent."

"Okay." He followed her instructions.

"Not so rigid. Put your knees out to the side a little. Good. Now rest your arms on your knees." She moved back toward her canvas. "No. Something's still not right. Put one hand on top of the other."

This was killing him. Maybe she didn't think he was attractive enough. "I've never modeled before…"

"No, it's not you. You're doing fine."

He smiled softly. "Hey, do you want me to take this out?" he asked, referring to the wheat grass in his mouth.

"No, leave it in. I like it."

His smile grew.

"Don't smile."

He promptly stopped. This comment felt like a punch to the gut.

"I-I want you to look as natural as possible."

"Gotcha."

"Now look up at me. There we go." She started to draw.

"How still do I have to be?"

"You can move a little, it's okay."

He watched her draw for a minute or two and then decided to make some small talk. "So… when did you start drawing?"

"Umm, if you don't mind, I'd rather not talk while I'm drawing. I'm not great at multitasking and I don't want to use too much of your time."

"Oh." Well, great. So much for alone time with his crush. "No problem."

She continued drawing him in silence, occasionally giving him small adjustments. Sometimes she'd get close to him, sometimes she'd walk around him. He wasn't really sure how much time had gone by, but his butt was starting to ache like he'd be on a long car ride.

Finally she finished, and he couldn't wait to stand up and stretch his legs. And see the final product of course.

"Well? What do you think?" She turned the easel to him.

It was stunning. She had drawn him sitting on a giant tree branch, high up in the treetops. It seemed fitting somehow. "I love it," he blurted. "Do you mind if take a photo of it?"

"Wow, you really like it that much?"

"I do. And also no one's ever drawn me before. This is really special, Mai."

"Thank you. You can take a photo."

He could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile on her cheeks. He took the photo while she packed up her art supplies. She seemed to be in a more cheery, relaxed mood, however, the moment was fleeting. Any signs of putting Mai in good spirits were thrown out the window as they tried to leave the studio only to find the door was locked.

"Don't you have a key?"

"N-No! The doors are always unlocked. I don't know how this happened." She sighed.

"Azula…" he almost said out loud. It was a dirty trick. A dirty trick that let him know she was a good friend. "It's okay. We can call someone." He wasn't really worried about being locked in. He could easily pick that lock. Not that he'd tell Mai that.

"There's no cell service down here."

Jet looked at his phone. She was right. "Damn. Guess we'll have to wait for someone to rescue us."

Mai sat down on a wooden stool, the only place to sit in the studio. "Better get comfy."

"I'm fine. I've done enough sitting today." He paced a bit. "So…"

"So…"

Now was the perfect time to try to get to know her better. "When did you start getting into art?"

"I… for as long as I can remember."

"Azula mentioned you like to paint and sculpt too… do you have a favorite form?"

"Photography."

"Oh." He didn't see that one coming. "What is it about photography that you like?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Getting to observe the world around me, I guess. Nature. People. Finding beauty in the mundane."

"Finding beauty in the mundane," he repeated thoughtfully. "I like that. I-I wish I had that mindset when I was a kid. Probably would have saved me some grief."

"What do you mean?"

"I uhh, grew up in the foster care system. Bouncing from house to house. Family to family. Never really stayed anywhere too long. Always ended up back in the system. Always the same outcome."

"What, umm… what about your parents?"

It was a personal question but he liked that she was finally taking interest in his life. "They died when I was eight."

"Oh… I…" She paused. "I don't know what to say."

"It's okay. No one ever does."

She looked down at her lap.

"There was a fire. Faulty wiring or something. I managed to escape, but my parents… they never made it out. I watched our home burn to the ground."

"Jet, I…" She shook her head. "I can't even imagine. That must have been traumatic."

"Yeah, well, that was part of the problem. After everything I'd seen, no one wanted a messed-up kid. That's why I never got adopted. And to be fair, I was kind of a shit kid. Always causing trouble."

"Well that's understandable. Do you… have a place to live? I mean, you know, besides the dorm."

"Yeah, sorta. As soon as I turned 18, some of the other foster kids and I pooled everything we had and bought a place together. It's… not much to look at, but it's something. For now, I mostly just mooch off my roommate and our friend, Zuko." He wondered how she'd react to hearing his name. "You know him, right?"

"Azula's brother? Yeah, I-I know him. We were friends when we were young, but… I haven't really seen him much since he went to live with his uncle."

"You haven't reached out to him since starting college?"

She shook her head. "I was kinda hoping he'd reach out to me."

Oof. Maybe she did like him. "W-Well you should come hang out with me and Sokka sometime! Zuko's almost always in our room. Well, mostly because Sokka and I keep stealing his gaming equipment."

"Yeah, I… I'd like that."

There it was again – a hint of a smile.

"Man, I…" She exhaled. "I always thought I had a rough childhood, but yours makes mine sound like a breeze in comparison."

It seemed she wanted to change topics. It was probably best not to talk about Zuko anyway, especially if Azula's hunch was right and Mai did have feelings for him. "Hey, trauma is not a competition."

"You're right," she nodded.

"I, uhh… I heard about your dad. That couldn't have been easy."

"No," she murmured. "I always admired my father, but… not anymore. He should have known better than to get involved in Ozai's inner circle. He deserves to be in prison."

"You don't hold that against Azula, do you?"

She shook her head. "Azula was just as disillusioned as I was, if not more. Her father was the ringleader. He took everyone down in his wake. And unlike my father, I'm pretty sure Ozai never really cared about Azula. I mean, he's too much of a narcissistic megalomaniac to care about anyone other than himself. I think… she probably knows that."

His gut twisted hearing those words. He may have lost his parents, but at least he knew they loved him. No wonder Azula was so mean all the time.

"Anyway… it hasn't been all bad."

"Oh?"

"After my dad went to prison, my mom finally got to stop playing the role of a devoted politician's wife, having to be demure and perfect all the time."

He got the impression she was talking about herself too. "Must have been exhausting."

"She got a job working with my Aunt Mura in her flower shop. A simple yet satisfying job. She seems a lot happier now. And, well, my mom couldn't afford to keep paying for my little brother, Tom-Tom's, private school, so now he's enrolled in the public elementary school. It's a lot less… restrictive than the private school."

"Yeah, I bet."

"I'm just happy that he'll have a better childhood than I did."

"Well, that's great, but… what about you? Are you happy?"

"I…" She looked away. "I don't think I even know what that is."

"Well that's no good," he said, standing closer to her. "But fortunately for you, I'm going to help you figure it out."

She looked up at him, puzzled. "How do you propose to do that?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Seems you grew up in a pretty repressive household, maybe we should do something… impulsive. Something bad. N-Nothing that will get us expelled or suspended or anything."

"Like what…?"

"Hmm… how about a prank?"

Slowly, she nodded. "Okay… on whom?"

"You tell me." That's when he saw it. A smile. A solid, unmistakable smile. It was beautiful.

"On everyone. Let's do a school-wide prank!"

This was the first time he'd seen her excited about anything, and he was loving every second of it. "I like the way you think."

"Any ideas?"

"Let's see… well… finals start tomorrow. Students are crazy stressed. There's got to be a good way to mess with them… maybe some sort of fake post-finals celebration?"

"Ooh, ooh, I know. What if students thought the school was giving away free pizza and massages the day after finals? 10 AM to 2 PM. Student center lounge. We could make fake fliers and advertise all over campus."

"Oh man, you're diabolical! They'd be so disappointed!" He heard her snicker. It was music to his ears. He got her to laugh, he actually got her to laugh.

"I'll start drafting the fliers." She walked back over to her easel. "I hope you have enough of your print quota saved, 'cause we're gonna need a lot of paper."

Azula eventually did come to their rescue, and when Jet saw her, he was in such a good mood he wanted to hug her. He didn't of course. That would have been weird. But he had had such a great time with Mai trapped in the art studio, he was on cloud nine. And it was all thanks to her.