gemsofformenos: Tbh I feel as though it's more distracting for me lmao. Helps me in the planning stage and distracts me in the writing stage. For me high school had its ups and downs. The first two years were rough. Junior year was a bit better and picked up towards the end and senior year was pretty good because I just put myself out there more and made some new friends. I also embraced a lot of things which really helped build confidence. "but it is a part of me now and it make me the person who I am now and this person is pretty okay!" Exactly!
"This is also fitting for most of your characters here in your fic, in my opinion. They're searching for this place." Oh yeah, Aang especially is trying to figure out who he is. A lot of them are. And Mai is one of them. Mai just has a lot of guilt to deal with. "The trouble the accident is causing for Toph and her parents only increases Mais feelings of guilt." And it's only the beginning too."and that she wasn't stopped by the other girl." I'm glad that you caught that, because I was trying to build up this sense of being enabled. Since TyLee doesn't share a lunch hour with her, she surrounds herself with people who do the same things she does. "TyLee has decided to talk with her about her problem, it seems. I have a suggestion, but I will wait and see." I do have a plan for her. Frankly, TyLee's problem is going to be the most profound and impactful one, I'll put that out there. "What shocking chapter you will publish next." This one was a real trip, Azula's in for a very rocky time.
Her face was terribly hot, her stomach knotted as tightly as it possibly could be. Tears threatened to break free, but she couldn't afford to lose it in front of everyone. They had enough ammo as it were. But in her trembling hands she held the first failing grade she'd gotten since childhood. It wasn't a test either. It was her midterm grade. It would seem the little assignments that she didn't have the drive nor motivation to do had added up. Math, being the most tedious and insufferably boring, held the lowest grade. English and its need for deep thinking and focus was a close second worst. Her chemistry grade was only a little better than the ones before it. History and art were the only things she managed to maintain a solid score in. Ironically, her physical education grad remained the same, but only because her former coach took pity on her soul—grading her for paper alternative assignments and eventually effort on the actually physical activity she was finally starting to get back into.
Azula tried to think about that, about how her ribs were finally paining her less, about how she could start pushing herself harder again. But the sheet of paper in her hands brought an oppressive dread. She couldn't imagine that she could hide it from her any better than she could hide her eating habits. She set the offending paper down and rubbed her hands over her face.
She couldn't do this anymore. She just couldn't.
She heard Katara shift in the seat over. Her face was a complete picture of vexation. Yearning for a distraction, Azula leaned over and whispered, "why are you angry?"
To her surprised, Katara actually answered. She turned her own grade sheet over and pointed to a big sparkling F. "Look at this!" She exclaimed loudly enough to draw a few looks and a snicker from Chu-Leng. "She hates me. She graded me like this because she doesn't like me. I've been doing all the work and…ugggh." She crumpled the paper and shoved it into her backpack. A gesture Azula whole-heartedly agreed with. "I take it, she doesn't like you either?"
"Yeah." Azula lied. She wished it was a matter of bias. No, it was rather objective that she was doing a lot worse than before. But it was hard to think with Ozai and Zuko going at it down the hall. And even harder when they weren't—it helped even less that her belly has been empty for quite some time.
Zuko had been gone for about two weeks. September had turned to mid-October. There was no sign of him and Ozai was growing moody and spiteful. Aside from that, it became terribly apparent that she missed Zuko. Even if he was only in his room pumping tar into his veins, his presence helped. There was a sense of silent unity when dealing with their father.
She wanted him to come home.
She wished that he would have said something.
She hoped that Iroh had received her message. But he hated her just as well as Zuko did, so he didn't text back either. She could only hope that he at least read her message and tried to contact Zuko. She couldn't see Zuko ignoring him.
The bell rang and she thought of trying to catch Katara to discuss grades. Perhaps it would do them both well to study together or something. But she fell back, she has just as little energy to keep conversation as she does to get her work done. She has even less energy to try to make amends.
She couldn't say how many teachers spoke with her, after class, about her grades before lunch time. But the answer, after minimal thinking, had to be every single one. Even Yengchen inquired about her grades in other classes. "I'm just a little worried about you, Azula, you've always had straight A's…"
Azula had answered as vaguely as possible. Her stamina was draining rather rapidly, just walking to lunch was an effort. She knew that she really ought to eat.
Eat and keep the food there.
But she was afraid to let it remain.
She few weeks into her new habit, and she still couldn't detect any progress. Visually, nothing had changed at all, the numbers on the scale didn't go up…but they hardly went down either and she was growing frustrated. She didn't know what she was doing wrong.
At least this time she had a more solid plan. She had allowed her father to pack her lunch for her and she took extra care to leave her cash and cards on her dresser. She would eat only what he had given her, if for no other reason than that she couldn't pay for anything else.
It would seem that Ozai's version of lunch was only a snack bar and a single apple. Not even a water bottle.
"That's all you've got?" Teo wheels up to her. And because she wasn't in the middle of an embarrassing binge, she let him stay.
"I let my dad pack lunch today." It was a half-truth. One that allowed her to pretend that she wasn't thankful that she had such a small lunch.
"My dad does the same things sometimes. I don't think dads know how to pack lunch." He laughed.
Azula tries to do the same, but her stomach was groaning and she felt anything but giddy. So instead she nodded her head and finished the last of her apple. She set the core to the side and stared off, evidently her gaze fell on her former table. Usha was laughing loudly with Kori. A sorrowful knot worked its way into her throat, that should be her, not Kori. She should still be sitting there. At least they weren't laughing at her that day. And with Chan's suspension pending for another day, things were peaceful.
They should have been anyhow. Chu-Leng was working double time to make her feel like shit on Chan's behalf. And he was putting extra effort into it, claiming that she'd gotten Chan suspended in the first place. Naturally, the rest of the boys' volleyball team and Jet were invited to join in.
The day prior it was jokes about how she was sitting alone and the day before that it was comments the same old tiresome remarks about her weight. She wished that they would just drop it and find something new to talk about.
Her stomach rumbled again and she looked up at Teo, trying to find any topic to discuss that wasn't food. But she didn't know anything about the boy and jumping right into, "how'd you end up in a wheel chair," seemed anything but appropriate.
"You want some of my lunch?" He offered.
She wished that he hadn't because she did, she really, really did. "No, I'm fine. I'm not that hungry."
She was thankful that he didn't push.
"Are you okay?" Teo asked.
As subtly as possible, she bit the inside of her lip. "I'm fine." She allowed herself to dwell on that she had someone to sit by, that someone had gone out of their way to talk to her, and for a moment she can pretend that she is fine. "Are you."
"Now that Chan isn't here, I'm sort of okay." She could tell that his smile is forced. She knows, very well, the look of someone who is masking a world of hurt. And she was almost certain that he sensed the untruth of her own response.
"Thank you for sitting with me." She mumbled.
They don't speak for the rest of the hour.
.oOo.
Azula took her time organizing her locker for the next day. She took her time finding her keys. She took her time walking to the car and she took the back roads all the way home. She had learned to fear the sight of her home.
Now that Zuko was gone, there was nothing to take the spotlight off of her, and it was casting her in the most unflattering light. She stepped inside, with any luck, her father would be on a conference call. She took off her shoes and padded as quietly as possible to her room—an attempt that left her feeling worser still about herself, her footfalls are heavier now and she flinched with each one. Still she remains undetected. She locked the door.
He didn't speak with her so she didn't speak with him.
.oOo.
She thought about it all day, because she knew that he knew about her slipping grades. She didn't know how she knew, she just had a sense of it. It followed her to the cafeteria. The knowledge that she was going to get an earful very soon. She dug around her lunch bag only to find it empty, it was all the confirmation she needed.
Her stomach pained her so terribly and she wished that she had brought her money along after all. The scent of french fries and pizza taunted her. On Usha's tray she can see a helping of onion rings next to a serving of pasta. The athletes have plates teeming with carbs, apparently it was bulking time for the wrestling and football teams. Mai's lunch consisted of snack sized sushi and a packet of bland crackers. Katara's lunch looked the most appetizing; a sandwich—probably made by her mother—some fruit snakes, a banana, and what looked like homemade brownies. She, herself, had nothing. She has had nothing for too long. And because she had nothing for so long, she suddenly wanted to taste everything. All the same, she knew that she couldn't. It was a cycle that was driving her mad.
Teo took a seat.
She hardly noticed him until he remarked, "did you already eat?"
"No, I forgot to pack lunch." A full-blown lie.
"Here." He put his tray in the middle of the table and offers her some french toast sticks. He poured an unhealthy amount of syrup on the tray, practically dousing it. She didn't know why he was eating breakfast for lunch, but in that moment it didn't matter. She would take would she could get. It didn't actually occur to her to ask how many sticks he was willing to give up until she had taken nearly half. Her control was slipping—in beginning her purge cycles she thought that she was taking control. Now she was beginning to think that she had set herself on a path that reaped it away from her. And this path was taking it fast.
She couldn't bring herself to face Teo. He was probably disgusted with how greedily she had taken him up on his offer.
If he was, he didn't make mention of it and she is thankful for at least that.
But it didn't matter, she felt disgusted with herself for the both of them and then some.
She excused herself and headed for the bathroom.
.oOo.
Her streak of missing her father came to an end. He was waiting for her at the dinner table when she came downstairs to fetch her shoulder bag. He tossed a sheet of paper down on the middle of the table, she already knew what it was. "What is the meaning of this?"
She opened her mouth to explain but he spoke over her. "It's failure, that's what it is. F is for failure, do you know that or are you flunking your spelling exams too?"
She flinched. She felt horrible for it but she wished Zuko was there; skipping school altogether was, after all, a worse crime than attending and failing.
"You can't keep your grades up, but you can keep your weight up!"
There probably wasn't a spot on her face that wasn't a shade of red. His insults were growing progressively worse, and far more frequent.
"Why is that?" He demanded.
"I have a lot of other things to think about." She replied quietly.
"Are these things more important than school?"
She very well couldn't tell him that it was hard to work and pay attention because she was being harassed almost regularly by Chu-Leng and Usha. It would just be one more thing for him to yell at her about. So she picked a different thing that bothered her. "I think it's important to know where Zuko is."
Ozai scoffs. "He dug his own grave. Junkies belong in the streets not in luxurious estates."
There were so many things she wanted to say but she didn't want to dig a grave like Zuko's so she held her tongue.
"Stop thinking about the family disgrace—believe it or not, that isn't you…yet—and fix this." He practically threw the paper at her.
She knew that it was a horrible move but that day was a day without control, so she kept the ball rolling, "it's hard to focus when you're starving."
His laugher was rather booming. "No wonder your grades are so low, you're always starving, aren't you?"
"Because you won't let me eat." She mumbled.
"You can eat when you get yourself back in shape."
She swallowed. It took so much willpower to not let her hurt be seen. But he was cutting deep. Deep within, her hurt gives way to a tinge of anger. With him or with herself, she couldn't decide. Suddenly she wished that Mai hadn't cut her out, Mai would have been able to talk her down or at least distract her. At first she wished that she had TyLee for her peppy demeanor, but then she really put some thought into it.
The last thing she needed was TyLee with her slender and perfect hourglass figure. The last thing she needed was someone to make her look and feel worse than she did.
Her father offered one final comment that she blocked out and retreated, declaring that he had to finalize his business plans—the ones that would apparently wipe their biggest rival out completely. She hoped silently that his plan would fail. It would serve him well.
.oOo.
She couldn't sleep, not with Ozai's commentary bombarding her mind. Not when the hunger tickled her stomach. Faintly she was aware that if he stopped restricting her so (and if she could stop restricting herself), that food might not be on her mind so constantly. But as things were, it was almost the only thing she could think of.
She looked at the clock. Nearly 1:00 in the morning. She realized that this may be her only opportunity to get a real meal, so she crept down the hallway. From the shelves she pulled the first food item her hand landed on, frankly she didn't even care for chips, but she ate them anyhow, promising herself that she'd only eat a few. But a few turned into half. And then half turned into the entire bag. She pulls something else down from the shelf and she did it with a purpose. She ate as much as she could just to spite him.
Just to be silently say that he couldn't tell her what to do, that he couldn't treat her how he was. A very quiet, unseen middle finger to the man.
In doing so she spites herself too.
Because looking at the empty wrappers filled her with dread. It brought her back to reality, the one where she vividly recalled promising herself that she was going to get back in shape, not for her father, but for her own sake.
Thank God that the bathroom was just a few doors down.
She promised herself that it would only be once…and then she had promised herself that it would be once more. But it never was, it never would be. It burned away at her throat most unpleasantly. She was dimly aware that it was destroying her, perhaps more than the actual binge itself.
But there was so much relief and control—or at least the illusion of it—in doing it.
She hurried to clean the mess she made of her face and the mess she had made in the kitchen. She took the extra time to discard the wrappers where her father wouldn't find them.
Indeed, she had spited herself so well that night.
And Ozai not at all, because he didn't know what she had done.
He wouldn't ever.
And because he didn't know, it was as though he hadn't been spited at all.
No, she had only hurt herself.