How Do I Loathe Thee?

Author's Note: Toph isn't blind in this fic. However, to make up for this, she is dyslexic and has ADD. No bottle of Riddlin has ever been known to tame Toph Bei Fong, so she channels her hyper activity into sports and witty repartee.

Also, my humblest apologies: I'd intended to get this chapter up no later than Sunday, as it currently stands, it is nearly Tuesday. The chapter was mostly ready, I'd just encountered a small hiccup regarding the plot in the next chapter. (Said hiccup is resolved, though the following chapter has yet to be written. I'm shooting to have it up within a week.)

Doily's Fic PSA: I've gone back and made some minor changes to the first chapter -nothing epic, just cleaned it up a bit. Also, I'm using cleaner dividers from now on, because the text ones look dumb and keep getting deleted. -shakes fist at FFN- That is all.

Chapter Three: I Hate the Way You Drive my Car (Part One)

The Avatar Memorial High School, home of the all-star Flying Bisons, prided itself on academic excellence and a competitive athletics department. Sports teams frequently ranked high, fluctuating between the first five slots in the district, occasionally taking state. That was why, at six o'clock on Tuesday morning, Coach Paku was having his team of rough and tumble field hockey girls running the track. Tomorrow, they would do drills.

"Only twelve more laps to go!" he hollered, accompanied by an encouraging trill from his ever-present whistle. A ripple of groans erupted from the runners.

Katara Wattribe kept an easy pace, despite the pain and anguish of the early morning workout. She wasn't the fastest girl, but she wasn't exactly bringing up the rear either. A shorter girl named Toph Bei Fong ran beside her. She was a freshman, the only one to make it onto the varsity team. Though she didn't look it, the petite girl packed a mean punch, earning her the nickname "Secret Weapon". Though she was two years her junior, Katara and Toph were good friends. True, their relationship started out a bit rocky, having fallen into something of an egocentric competition to best one another during the two week long varsity training camp just before the start of the new school year, but they liked to think that their rough start gave them a sounder foundation for friendship.

Katara relaid the events of the previous day to her friend.

"He called me 'Sweetness'," she groaned, sticking out her tongue at the memory.

"Sweetness, eh?" Toph smirked cheekily. "Has a nice ring to it. I think I might like this guy. He must really like you if he's already given you a pet-name, Sugar Queen."

Katara rolled her eyes. The Sugar Queen nickname originated during their varsity camp days, but it long since lost its sense of ironic malice (well, it lost the malice part anyway). "He doesn't like me," she explained. "The only reason he even talked to me was because his uncle made him. Anyway, then he gave me a Twix bar and asked me out."

"Doesn't like you, huh?" Toph deadpanned.

"Oh shut up!" she snapped. "Someone's obviously helping him. My money's on Sokka. I can't imagine Aang going along with something like this." She paused thoughtfully. "…Then again, how else could he have found out about history class?"

"Sounds like you've stumbled on a conspiracy plot," the petite girl shrugged.

"You think?"

"Oh definitely," Toph nodded. "Anyway, did you accept the date?"

"I… well, I was sort of blackmailed into it." Katara grimaced at the memory. "He offered to tutor me to bring up my grade if I went out with him, and then Sokka went ahead and threatened to tell dad about the whole grade thing if I didn't agree. We're doing dinner and a movie on Friday."

"I see…" An evil smirk slowly blossomed across Toph's innocent features. It was a look Katara was all too familiar with.

"What are you plotting?" she asked with a lilt of humor. Toph's ideas were usually outrageous and always hilarious.

"Well, think of it this way; Sokka's protective of you, right?"

"Right."

"And he does have the motive for pushing you into this situation, right?"

Her brother would do just about anything to take his secret girlfriend out on a legitimate date. She cast a weary glance at said girlfriend, who kept a fast pace twenty feet ahead. It was hard not to be envious of the pretty, tall, athletic Suki Flotman; the captain of the team. "Right," Katara sighed.

"Well," Toph's smirk grew in deviousness, "why not make it blow up in his face?"

A brilliant light went into Katara's eyes. Revenge sure seemed like a mighty fine route to take. "Go on…"

"You know Haru?"

"Who doesn't know Haru?" Katara laughed, nearly tripping over her feet in the process, "His mustache is legendary." Haru Smallchilde was a boy in her brother's grade with supermodel good looks (aside from an inexplicable handlebar moustache). He was eccentric to say the least, and very hard to miss. Haru was a nice kid though, despite his strangeness.

"It so happens that his parents are out of town this weekend." If she wasn't running the track at that moment, it would be easy to imagine her rapping her fingertips together, like a comical cartoon villain. "Rumor has it he's planning a wild party Friday night…" She let her voice trail so Katara could put the pieces together herself.

"You are a genius."

"Duh," Toph Bei Fong scoffed at the obviousness of Katara's statement. "…Sweetness." She tossed her pretty little head back and cackled.

Zuko Nations played self consciously with the tips of his hair, still damp from that morning's shower. He liked his hair, regardless of what Katara said. It wasn't stupid at all! In fact, he had half a mind to style it to cover his whole face for the date, if it bothered her so much. Appearances weren't everything… not that his hair was even remotely negative. Mai hadn't minded it, and though his Uncle constantly fought to brush it away from Zuko's face, the old man toted the fashion sense of a colorblind bag-lady and his advice on such matters was not to be heeded, as a rule.

…This was how Katara found him. She watched him a moment, waiting for him to notice her. Eventually she realized that wasn't going to happen; he just kept playing with his hair, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Angsting about your hair, emo boy?" she asked with a precocious smile.

"What? No!" he brought his hands hastily away from his face, stowing them safely in the pockets of his cargos. "I was just thinking, that's all."

"About your stupid hair?" She grinned. Riling him up was too easy.

"My hair isn't stupid!" Zuko snapped.

"Uh-huh."

"Whatever," he pouted, crossing his arms. "Anyway, I'm here to discuss the tutoring schedule, as per your order. So get to it. When do you want me?"

"That's what she said!" A small blur of dark hair and green clothing cried as she sped past. They could hear her raucous laughter as she continued down the hall.

Katara's eyes flashed dangerously. "Ignore the midget," she ordered darkly. Then, with an easier tone, she answered his question, "I was thinking Tuesdays and Thursdays, if that works for you. Coach tends to take it easier on us then, so I should be better able to concentrate."

He nodded. "That's fine as long as you don't mind waiting until after Kendo Club lets out."

Katara did a double-take, "You're in Kendo Club? As in, with my brother?"

"Uh," Zuko said intelligibly, taken aback by her accusatory tone, "Yeah? What of it?"

"Nothing," she said distractedly. "Nothing at all. Anyway, I have to go. I'll see you Thursday."

With that, Katara vanished down the hall. Zuko stared after her and wondered if the disappearing act was a family trait.

Sokka was in an extremely good mood on Thursday. His dad had finally, finally, given him permission to take Suki out on a date. And he knew just the thing do, too. He grinned into his locker mirror, but still, he just couldn't shake that niggling feeling in the back of his mind. He turned to Zuko, who was busy changing into his hakama for Kendo Club.

"Did you say something to Katara about me?" he asked.

"No, why?" Zuko absently replied, too preoccupied with double checking to make sure everything was fastened properly. Sensei Piando was a stickler for proper dojo etiquette.

"Well, nothing," Sokka said, checking his own appearance, though he seemed to be appreciating the shape of his jaw more than anything else. "Except that she's been a whole lot more vindictive towards me lately."

Zuko thought about his last interaction with the girl in question, two mornings ago. "She did ask if I was in kendo with you," he said after a moment. "And then she got all weird and took off."

Sokka's eyes widened and his mouth dropped. "She knows."

"What?"

But Zuko's question was never answered, as Sensei Piando, prompt as ever, chose that moment to appear and usher them into the dojo.

When Kendo let out, Sokka fled like a bat out of hell, making Zuko feel especially uneasy. Today was the day, after all, that he was supposed to begin his tutoring of Katara Wattribe. And if that alone wasn't enough to make him revisit his lunch, the fact that they had never exactly specified a meeting place or time (except for after Kendo, which could be anywhere between 4pm to midnight) certainly made up for it. He did not want to give that viper of a girl an excuse to bite his head off again.

But, as it turned out, he needn't have worried at all. Katara was waiting for him when he exited the locker room. She was frowning, but he hadn't exactly expected anything else from her.

"Hey," he said, testing the waters.

"You didn't forget, did you?" She clenched her firsts defensively, clearly expecting that to be the case.

"No, of course not," Zuko waved his hands in a placating way. "But I am glad you came to meet me, otherwise I'd have no clue where to find you, or when to find you for that matter."

Katara rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Should we go to the library?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "That's as good a place as any."

They took the walk to the school's library in silence, up the stairs to the third floor. Once there, he silently followed her to a table by a window and unloaded his school bag. Not seeing any point in dragging out the miserable event, he got right down to business. "Okay, so I talked to Miss Wu to get a handle on your weak points," he explained as a matter of fact. "She said you were having trouble with a lot of the concepts about the Founding Fathers and the Revolutionary War."

"You actually talked to her?" Katara asked incredulously.

"Sure." He dipped a shoulder in a slight shrug. "How else was I supposed to know what to focus on? Anyway, if I hadn't talked to her, this study session would be wasted on trying to figure out where you needed to catch up."

Her eyes were downcast as she pulled out her history textbook. "Right."

Zuko almost fell out of his chair at the suddenly timid tone of her voice; it was such a foreign concept. She looked downright bashful, staring intently at her history book, which more than likely had only been open to a page at random. It was disconcerting and he wasn't entirely sure how to handle it. He shook his head and decided to focus at the task at hand rather than appraise Katara's bizarre change in behavior. He cleared his throat. "So, anyway, I know what you're having trouble with, and I can go over those dates and facts with you, but it would probably help to know why you're struggling in the first place."

"Because it's boring as sin," she snapped; her usual self resurfacing a little as she rested her head in her palm. "That's why."

"Okay," he said, "That's the problem then. You're just looking at history like it's a timeline of events, or a boring, predictable parade."

"Well, yeah," Katara shrugged. "How else can you look at it? I mean, I sort of already know how the story ends." She gestured vaguely, as if to the present day and present events in general.

"Haven't you ever heard the phrase, 'Those who don't know history are doomed to repeat it'?" Zuko postured. History was something he was passionate about, though he knew most others didn't possess his same commitment. Still, he felt that a large part of their problem was how they looked at things. "I mean, if you base your entire understanding of the United States history by memorizing a series of facts and dates, of course it would be boring. But, for example, did you know that Benjamin Franklin, when he was acting as a diplomat in France, used to spin around naked on his balcony in plain view of the French public?"

Katara, who resumed resting her head lazily in the palm of her hand nearly slipped off the table. "What? Why would he do something like that?"

"He thought bathing in water was unhealthy, and opted instead for 'air baths'," he replied, making use of air quotes. "He was also a lady's man and an extremely smooth talker –he's pretty much the reason France joined the American fight for independence." His lip twitched into a smile when he noticed an increased level of interest in the girl. "If you look at it, I mean really look at it, and see these people as, you know, actual people with vices and eccentricities and not just some distant mythology, it really makes what they accomplished all the more incredible, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Katara admitted reluctantly. "I guess so."

"Good," he said, cracking a grin of his own for once, "Now whenever you get bored in class, just remember a flabby Ben Franklin spinning around in the nude and hopefully that will wake you up enough to get through the lesson."

The rest of the tutoring session continued without issue, and, Zuko had to admit, went along almost pleasantly. Katara actually listened to what he had to say and seemed to really respond to his study tips and suggestions. She even went as far as writing down the titles of a few books he suggested to help her further understand the class's subject matter, though he didn't necessarily think she'd actually go out and find them, let alone read them. Regardless, it was gratifying to know she'd at least feign more interest than she actually felt. She was being polite and it was very strange, but not unwelcomed.

As they prepared to leave the school, heading in their own separate ways, Katara turned to Zuko with a friendly grin. "Thanks for the tutoring."

"Sure," he shrugged, scuffing his shoe on the ground. This whole 'Katara being nice' thing was a little too disconcerting.

Then her grin turned into a smirk as she bounded down the front steps, "Who'd have guessed that the infamous Zuko Nations was really a huge nerd!"

Zuko's ears tinted pink and he sputtered indignantly at her retreating figure.

In spite of this, he couldn't help thinking that maybe the date tomorrow wouldn't be so horrible.

He shook his head, and remarked under his breath, "Famous last words."

Zuko arrived at the imposing Wattribe house promptly at 5:55 PM. His fifteen year old sun-splotched dull gray Honda Civic sputtered dangerously as it pulled up against the curb, and Zuko just hoped the rusted pile would hold through until the date was over. At least, he comforted himself, he'd cleaned up the interior earlier and managed to get most of the grime off the windows. It wasn't that he was a messy person; it was just that he found it difficult to care about the aesthetic value of the motorized heap of scrap metal. Still, he found himself hoping that Katara wouldn't mind it too much. He patted the steering wheel gingerly, "You can't help what you are, can you old girl?"

The 95' Honda Civic remained predictably silent on the matter.

The Wattribe residence was an older Victorian home in one of the town's nicer neighborhoods, Southern Point. It had a long path through the front yard and steps up to the spacious wrap-around porch- which gave plenty of time for panic to sink in on Zuko's walk to the door. He nervously pulled at the collar of his shirt. It was a stupid shirt, he thought frantically, like he was trying too hard. It was a black button-up, much nicer than his usual fair (a mix of band and logo-laden tee's in assorted shades of gray or black). His Uncle had forced him into it as a matter of concession. He'd originally wanted to attack Zuko's hair, but after Katara's comments, that was fast becoming a touchy subject and Zuko resolutely refused. He'd also insisted on keeping his combat boots, but opted for a pair of dark wash jeans he'd found at the back of his closet instead of his preferred black (which prompted a knowing glint to sparkle annoyingly in Iroh's eyes). As he went to ring the doorbell, he hoped to any higher being in hearing distance that the illustrious Mayor was not the one to answer.

And in the general theme of things, it didn't work out how Zuko wanted.

Hakoda had to bite back a smile when he found the nervously fidgeting eighteen year old standing on his porch; the infamous Zuko Nations. He shook the thought from his head, and was about to invite him inside when something truly frightening caught his eye. "What's that?" he demanded in a voice of undisguised disgust.

Zuko followed the mayor's line of sight. He let out a dejected sight, his shoulders hunched. "That would be my car." Figures.

"No." Hakoda took an subconscious step back into his house. There was no way in hell he was letting his baby in that… that… screaming metal death trap. But he had to get a grip; there was a way around this situation. Katara could drive tonight; that was the only way this was going to work. He sighed into his hand, chancing another glance at the offensive vehicle and cringed.

Zuko, until this point, only had half a clue what was running through Mayor Wattribe's mind as they stood in an awkwardly tense silence on the front porch. Well, Zuko was on the front porch. The Mayor on the other hand, was paused mid way between shutting the door in Zuko's face. "Uh, sir… is there a problem?" His stomach turned. This was not the makings of a good date.

"Hmm?" Hakoda seemed to come back to himself then. "Oh, no problem," he assured the boy. "Nothing that can't be solved, anyway. Come on in, Katara should be down in a minu-"

"I'm right here."

Sure enough, Katara's surly, unenthusiastic voice rang out from somewhere in the depths of the Mayor's lovely Victorian home, the contents of which Zuko was beginning to think he'd never actually be permitted to see. But then Hakoda stepped aside. Instead of taking the time to take in the contents of the home (which he was only interested in because standing awkwardly inside beat standing awkwardly outside any day), his eyes were glued to his date. Though she had one of the meanest, most disgruntled, dare he say it, embarrassed faces he'd ever seen, she looked, otherwise, cute. It was probably Sokka's doing. It made Zuko feel a little better that he wasn't the only one to have his appearance scrutinized and subjugated tonight.

Katara wore a pale blue dress that a sensibly modest square neckline that finished in an a-line skirt that floated down to her knees (Zuko felt a little emasculated when he realized he knew what those terms meant, but that was one of the many hazards of having a little sister... one of the lesser evils, considering his sister in particular). He had to say that it definitely suited her. Most of all, it brought out her eyes, which, Zuko realized for the first time, were blue. Aside from that disturbing revelation, he noticed the delicate chained cameo around her neck, accentuated by the absence of her long hair, which had been swept up off her neck into a messy bun. Her hands seemed to knead into her small clutch like a cat, or perhaps more accurately, a tiger, preening its claws. Despite her feminine, delicate appearance, she was very clearly on the verge of unleashing something dangerous unto the world.

"Ah, Sweetheart!" Without warning, Hakoda pulled his seething daughter gracelessly to his side; she struggled to keep her balance against him, which effectively damped the levels of intimidating anger she radiated. "Well, now that you're both here… Anyway, I know you kids are probably eager to get out of here, but I'd like to make a request. Or well, that's misleading, it's an order really. I'd like Katara to drive tonight."

Zuko's face burned in embarrassment.

Hakoda chuckled and patted his daughter's suitor on the shoulder in an unintentionally condescending way. "It's not that I don't trust you behind the wheel," he explained (it was the truth too, he'd done a thorough background check, including making sure Zuko had a clean driving record). "It's just that, I don't trust your car. You understand." He shrugged and smiled as if to say, 'what can you do?'

Katara was not happy with this. Or maybe it the anger on her face was just held over from the dress and being forced into the date in the first place. Whatever her feelings, she said a hasty good bye to her dad and marched off the porch, grabbing Zuko by the hand and pulling him along. She led him to the driveway where two shiny cars were parked. Katara hunted a key out of her clutch and jammed it into the door of an off-white BMW. It looked like a model from the eighties (and therefore predated Zuko's car by years), but as was typical of the nicer cars, it was in much better condition.

She started the engine once Zuko had climbed into the front seat. Before she backed out, however, she gave him a stern look. "Before you go jumping to any conclusions about my dress; Sokka made me." A blush dusted her cheeks as she looked on straight ahead. "I didn't do it for you."

Hastily, Zuko nodded in understanding, "Right." She didn't want him to have any misconceptions and he didn't want her to think he did. They were just two people in an unfortunate situation, who were about to endure anywhere from three to four hours of each other's company and engage in awkwardly forced conversation.

Then it clicked: they both the victims here. Why exactly was there so much animosity between them, then?

…Oh right, he'd called her a bitch before he even knew her first name.

Eh, he mentally sighed, details. He just couldn't sit idly by let things continue this way. "We can't go on like this, Katara."

"What?" she asked, focused more on backing out of the driveway sans mayhem than on what he'd said.

"I mean, as far as I see it, we're both being victimized here," Zuko shrugged. "Why not, I dunno, try to get along?"

Safely on the street, Katara barked a laugh, "Ha! Now you want to be friends?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "That's not fair! I told you already I was having a bad day then, and that I was sorry! I meant that, you know? Why can't you forgive me?"

They came to a stop sign and she slammed on the break, causing the car and Zuko to lurch forward sharply. "I can't forgive you because you lied to me!" She crossed her arms, evidently content with sitting at the stop until this little tiff was resolved. "You told me you only asked me out because of your uncle, when really it was all Sokka. And don't try to deny it; I know he's in on it! How long have you guys been planning this anyway?"

"Seriously?" Zuko balked, "That's what this is about? Geez, I didn't even know your brother before Sunday, and furthermore, I didn't even know he'd had anything to do with the situation until after I'd asked you out the first time! I mean, yeah, I kind of figured it out eventually, but I'm just as much a pawn in this as you are!"

Katara laughed again without mirth. "You expect me to believe that, what, your uncle and my brother are in on this together?"

"Yeah?" Really, how hard was that to believe? His uncle was half crazy, Zuko was pretty sure.

"How much of an idiot do you think I am? I can't even imagine your sweet uncle doing something so underhanded." She turned up her nose at the very suggestion.

Zuko let his head fall back against the headrest and folded his arms. "Then you really don't know my uncle very well." He sighed. "Don't get me wrong, he's a great man, but he's not above meddling like this. If you really don't believe me, you're welcome to go ask him, we could go right now, in fact."

When Katara didn't respond, Zuko chanced a glance at her and found her studying him. Without a word, she drove on. Zuko half expected her to take the next right down 5th Street to the teashop. The relief he felt when she passed the turn, however, made him realize he might have something else to worry about.

AN (Part Deux): In the beginning of the chapter, when I said that Katara and Toph's relationship stated out "rocky", I hadn't originally noticed the pun. When I did however, I thought it was too stupidly hilarious to take out. Enjoy your Freudian Slip of the day.

Also, this chapter turned into something of a beast. Thus why it was broken into two parts. Sorry for dangling the promise of a fully fledged date before you! I'm working with a limited medium for chapter titles, and it's a little difficult to have them not only make sense, but not disrupt the overall quality of the piece… which is something I maybe should have taken into more consideration when I started. Oh well, live and learn.

On that note- while I want this to remain a humorous piece, it will be tempered with a little drama. You can't have a semi-Zuko-centric fic, and not have drama. He would literally always be OOC without it. (Or like his creepy, overly peppy stage in Ba Sing Sei… (as dramatized hilariously in this comic series: rufftoon. deviantart. com/ gallery/ #/ dqhogd (remove spaces)).

Apparently I've taken to ending my chapters with fan-made Avatar things. Weird.

Peace out,

-Doily-