Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.
Word Count: 7,621
Author's Notes: 10/13/13. Okay, so I lied. :P There were only supposed to be two more chapters to this story, but this next one was simply growing too long, so I went and split it apart. Again. Thus, after this chapter, there are only two chapters left! For real this time. (Just 4.95 and 5.0!) Really.
Aalsfjs;ldkfas;fasfdjka;lsdfj—autumn is finally here in New England. This is quite honestly my favorite time of year, and is one of the only reasons why I endure the inescapable, seemingly endless Boston winters and the short but brutally humid summers. I think there has been a very clear difference between the frequency of my Personal Record updates during the actual autumn months of 2012 (and now 2013—wow!) compared to what I was able to create during the rest of the year. I run all year-long, but all the trail running I've been doing in preparation for my first marathon this November (and all of the leaves and the chilly breezes and the pumpkin spice lattes) has really made a huge impact on my motivation to write and—sadly—finish this story.
Also, most of you who are regular readers of mine will probably already be very familiar with what I'm about to say, but I still feel that it needs to be said: I love high school AUs. (Did you hear me? I love high school AUs.) I am also a huge fan of many of the typical writing tropes found in the young adult genre, especially romance and drama, and I love incorporating them into my stories in (hopefully!) new and interesting ways. My goal is always to take these clichés and spin them on their heads—to make the readers think they know where the story is going, but never let them be entirely sure, until they actually get there. (And even then—who knows, mwahaha.) I also love angst, fluff, humor, and bittersweet endings. And happy ones. And heart-wrenchingly tragic ones. So.
Without further ado.
Musical Inspiration: "Afraid" by The Neighbourhood.
Beta'd by ebonyquill, socksssss, & Chey.
4.9
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Her first thought was:
Fuck!
.
.
.
.
.
.
(Could she not go two months without hitting someone in the face?
And here she thought she'd been doing so well.)
.
.
.
.
.
.
And then—
"Tahno?" she blinked, gawking at the hooded figure clutching his face in pain. Then realization came slamming down and: "Oh my god—Tahno!" Her eyes widened as she took him in, standing there—right in front of her—wearing a pair of dark jeans and a gray zip-up hoodie over a black t-shirt, palm spread wide and rigid over his no-doubt throbbing cheek. (It was the first time, her hay-wiring brain noted distractedly, that she'd ever seen him in anything but running gear.) He was there, right there, standing (sort of doubled-over) before her, swearing under his breath, underneath the tall bleachers of her high school's football field, on the night of her Homecoming pep rally, while almost the entire student body rallied not more than two hundred yards away around a blaze of school pride and fierce competition and rivalry and—
"What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed, feeling her heart skip with panic. Adrenaline pumped through her veins—between the pivoting and the punching and the pep rally, her chest felt ready to burst.
The captain of the White Falls Wolverines, however, did not seem quite so concerned.
"Oh, yeah—don't mind me," he groaned beneath his breath, sucking in another loud hiss of pain. "Totally fine. Not like I just took a punch to the face, or anything."
Korra's jaw clenched; her eyes narrowed while her heart swelled, against her will. She tightened her fists, praying for a steady voice. "Are you asking for another?" she asked testily.
The heel of his palm gingerly pressed into his cheek, and he blinked rapidly, scowling at the grass. "Save it," he muttered, twitching his nose beneath his fingers to flex the skin. When he finally removed his hand, she saw the damage. Oh, Korra hissed sharply; she had gotten him pretty good. He'd probably have a black eye by morning.
"Oh, crap," she whispered, as guilt crept in. She'd been at an awkward angle, but she'd still had enough power to slam him across the cheek, enough to break the skin—if that small crack of blood splitting his cheek was anything to go by. "That looks terrible."
Tahno paused, and Korra's heart jumped in her chest as he finally locked eyes with her. "Thank you," he dryly replied, glaring. "You know just what to say to a guy who's just gotten clocked by a girl."
Korra frowned as he lowered his hands and brushed them off, feeling oddly disappointed. "A girl who could clock you again," she reminded him quietly.
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. All he did was gently wipe the trail of blood from just beneath his eye and stare at the ground. Korra swallowed. Seeing her cell phone still laying on the ground where it'd fallen, call ended, she quickly bent down and snatched it up, then shoved it into her back pocket.
"Why are you here, Tahno?" she asked again, voice stern. "This better not have anything to do with whatever it is that the Wolverines are up to tonight."
Tahno scoffed, still wiping his hands of invisible dirt. "As if."
Her brows furrowed with confusion. So they are planning something? Or... not? Korra swallowed, and felt another round of alarms go ringing in the back of her mind. But if so, then what—and when?
Korra gradually became aware of the fact that she was still breathing hard—too hard; her body was still recovering from the fight or flight portion of her evening, adrenaline pulsing faintly, her heart still pounding madly in her ears. Clearing her raspy throat, Korra felt the cold air bite at her cheeks, and she shook her head, begging her senses to come together. She licked her lips and pinned him with narrowed eyes, a warm pressure filling her up, and the words spilled out, "Then why are you—?"
"Why the hell else would I be here?" he snapped impatiently. He rounded on her, eyes fierce. "I was looking for you."
She stamped down the surge of warmth threatening to rise in her chest. Feeling heat rush to her cheeks instead, she stepped forward and demanded, "Do you have any idea what the other Fire Foxes will do if they see you? Do you even know what tonight is, you idiot? Out of all the stupid—"
"You weren't answering my calls," he accused, glaring right back. His hand whipped out, wrist flicking toward the bright flames beyond the cover of the bleachers. "This was the only place I knew you'd be!"
For a moment, the only sound Korra could hear was the unsteady rhythm of her own breathing, the tense silence of the woods surrounding them, but then a few moments passed and reality set in and, distantly, the sounds of the rally trickled past her ears. Korra's annoyed glare lingered on his determined one, then tightened with indecision, before it all fell away in a painful sigh.
She chanced a quick peek back at the raging bonfire through the small spaces between the bleacher seats and then in a flash decision of what could only be stupidity in Korra's mind, she grabbed his wrist and started off towards the woods, dragging him along the grass. "Fine," she snapped, yanking his tall, stiff frame forward. "But we have to get farther away first."
They said nothing as she pulled them deeper into the thick of trees, her eyes gradually adjusting to the dark trails hidden among the trunks. This was a stupid idea. This was an incredibly stupid idea.
But she kept walking.
When she'd felt that they'd gone far enough, Korra abruptly came to a halt and faced him. Hastily, Korra released his wrist, shoving it toward his hip to put back some of the distance between them. She then planted her feet into the ground, crossed her arms, and glared; time for answers.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
Seemingly still a little shell-shocked, Tahno merely blinked at her in the dark. And then he looked at her like she was the crazy one, which didn't help his case. "Didn't I already say this?" he hissed, flexing the hand at his side. Twice, he moved as if to nurse his swelling cheek, but Korra had a feeling his pride wouldn't allow it."You weren't responding to any of my messages!" he accused.
"I did respond," Korra countered, even as her mind ordered her to stop right there. (Even as her mind ordered her to move, to step forward, to run, to—) "I also asked you to stop texting me. I thought, for once, you might have actually listened."
"You didn't respond to any of the important ones," Tahno argued, as red flags of confusion and curiosity snapped high in her mind. Important...? Ah, Korra remembered; the messages she'd never read. Her cellphone burned hotly in her pocket.
But she hid that, and instead only gaped at him. Brow quirking high, voice strong with defiant scorn, Korra leaned back and remarked, "So this is how you chose to get my attention?"
His eyes seared into hers, impatience burning brightly in the dark. "I figured you'd be here at least, and I was right," he spat again, long hair falling into his eyes, and then, brusquely, "What the hell else was I supposed to do?"
Korra's jaw tightened. "All right," she said curtly, and shrugged. "Fine. You're here. I'm here. What do you want?"
"What do you mean what do I want?" His hands jerked through the air. "You've been avoiding me!"
"What?" Korra gawked, eyes widening. "Are you kidding me?"
"I've already apologized for Tuesday—"
"Uh, which is actually when you told me to leave you alone, if you remember!"
"And I've been trying to reach out to you since yesterday—"
"Great, so three days after the fact—"
"But you haven't been checking your phone! I couldn't even make a decent apology because I wasn't sure you'd see it! And you even admitted that you haven't!"
"Do you even know how to make a decent apology?" Korra snapped, clutching her arms more tightly. "What are you really here for, Tahno? Because I am becoming less and less convinced that this is anything more than one of your ridiculous mood swings."
She expected another jabbing retort or some other lame excuse, but he didn't immediately answer; instead, she could almost feel the deep breath he took, even from four feet away, as if the force of his exhale were trailing a warm breeze across the space of neck not covered by her hoodie. Korra tried not to swallow too hard as his face tightened, as his nose nostrils flared and his lip curled, but still, the tense silence did not waver.
When it seemed that he really would—could?—say no more, and that all he had truly meant to do was aimlessly drag her away from her friends and have them glare at each other in angry silence, Korra sighed.
"Look," she said, a tad more gently. "This isn't exactly... What I was planning to say when I saw you again. Because I did, you know. Plan to see you again. Eventually." Korra winced, hoping that she hadn't given too much of herself away already. Quickly changing gears, she rushed out, "Okay, fuck it, let me start over.
"Look—as far as that awful phone call on Tuesday goes, I'm really not all that mad. Anymore. But there's a lot more going on now and things have gotten a bit—complicated—and I get that you've probably got a lot on your mind with the investigation and all, but—I really don't think I'm the best person for this. To talk to. I mean—I appreciate you sticking your neck out like this, I guess, even though it's incredibly stupid of you, but I really don't know how much help I could even be, in the end, so it'd probably just be better to bail out of here now, before you get caught. And besides, don't you have, like, those teammates that you can go to for help? I mean, they're sure to be supportive, right? Have you asked them for—"
"I haven't run since last Saturday," he said, and his voice was quiet and level and plain, and not actually like Tahno's voice at all. Korra halted the step she'd started to take back down the trail, and looked at him, lips parting with surprise.
He was quiet for another moment, then turned away. (He'd only just begun and now he was stuck again, stuck in a way that Korra had never known him to be.) She let her weight shift, resting back on her heels as she considered him more closely. His hood was still up, but now that she was used to the light of the woods, Korra could see now what she couldn't see before; like the shadows beneath his eyes, dark even in the moonlight, or the hair that kept falling into his face, lank and tangled without its usual waves. The way his fingers bit into the fabric over his arms, or the way he faced downward, his head ducked ever so slightly from her view. The subtle clenching of his jaw, or the narrowed eyes, or the very line of him against the dark, stiff and rigid even as he stood tall, ready to snap.
Or break, Korra's mind whispered gently, from very, very far away. (Or break.)
"I... don't know what to say," she admitted quietly, because it was true, and because Korra had learned her lesson about honesty these last few days. She expected him to be frustrated, but she didn't expect him to look so disappointed, when he finally met her eyes.
He scoffed, a gentle huff, and this time, Korra did feel it on the breeze, though it was much colder than she would have thought. "Since when have you ever?"
She frowned, already disappointed, herself—with the both of them—more than she'd have thought possible. With an admonishing frown, she pleaded, just a little. "Tahno—"
"I can't even think straight," he continued blandly, as if he'd never heard her to begin with. He didn't look at her, and it didn't feel like he was speaking to her, but he was starting to sound more like himself again, at least a little, and for that, Korra listened. "It's not for lack of trying—the running. I've gone out once or twice, maybe even a few times, just to see, but I just can't pick up my feet and run. And I can't think about anything else. I can't think at all. I can't even really sleep." He turned toward her, and Korra watched his blank expression unfold. "This week—it's been..."
Korra swallowed against a sandpaper throat. "Rough?" she whispered, inadequately.
His lips quirked, the first familiar show of Tahno since he arrived, and Korra's insides melted into a pool inside of her until he cocked his head to the side and casually corrected, "Hell."
She nodded slowly, feeling young and naïve and ignorant. "I can imagine," she said softly and, in a tone that was just as deliberately level, with eyes hopefully as meaningful, Korra noted, "Your week didn't exactly have the greatest start."
His brows rose slowly, and he looked down at her—almost the way he used to, when she said something stupid—and said, "What? You mean being publicly humiliated in front of crowds of hundreds of people—in front of my team and every other? Losing my title? Being suspended from the team? Or how about—"
"Actually," Korra interrupted quietly, a little timidly in her embarrassment. She cleared her throat, and rose herself up, refusing to turn meek. "Actually, I was referring to even before that."
It was a little deceiving, the way his body seemed to relax, while the lines of his expression only tightened. He looked just as lost as she was.
"Yeah," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably before going rigid once more."And there's that."
She hesitated.
"Look. Before I say anything else about, you know, what happened on Tuesday—or how I've been... avoiding you since, there's... there's something else I should say. About last week," Korra swallowed, trying not to fidget. About how weird I was acting. She hid her cold fingers in the holes of her sweatshirt. "You were right, you know," she sighed, skin tingling with chagrin.
He scoffed at the ground and absently kicked his shoe at the dirt. "About what?" he muttered.
"That I was jealous," she offered quietly. His head jerked up as, unnecessarily, she added, "'Cuz I was."
He looked at her carefully, and mistrustful eyes roved over her face; she didn't know what he was looking for exactly—that I'm lying? Why would I make this up? Did he think she was making fun of him or something? She didn't know what he thought she might have to gain from something like that, but his eyes still looked cautious, narrowed and sharp. Skeptically, slowly, he asked, "Of what?"
Korra's cheeks burned in the shadows. Do I really have to say it? she frowned internally. (But not being open and honest about her feelings was what had gotten her into these messes in the first place, and she had resolved to be a little braver, to be more like the Korra she used to be.) She took a deep breath and, with only a minimal touch of embarrassed resentment, with only a slightly jarring feeling of nausea, Korra spoke.
"Those girls at your school," she explained levelly, as Tahno blinked at her in surprise; she would have felt proud of herself for staying so calm, if she didn't feel so sick. "The two that I saw hanging around you at the first meet, for example, though from what I've heard, I'm sure there's more. I know better than to think that all the rumors are true... but it'd be stupid of me not to realize that some of them are. And they are, aren't they?" Korra asked, feeling a cold numbness spread through her gut; interestingly enough, it seemed to make the words flow from her mouth all the more easily. "At least some of it?"
Tahno swallowed. His lips moved, presumably to form words, but nothing came out, until sharply, he asked, "What have you heard?"
But instead of answering his question, Korra further explained, "That's why... Last Friday, when I found out that your school already had its own..." She trailed off, fumbling through her words. Her chest and throat felt hot beneath the layers of her jacket and Asami's hoodie. She refused to pull at the collar, to fidget with her sleeves. "I mean, I didn't see why you wouldn't bother to mention your Homecoming, unless you didn't want me to know about it—and at first I couldn't imagine why. And then, when I questioned you about it, you were so vague with your answers—and I'd seen some of the way your school worships you, especially the girls that follow you around everywhere, and I just... I mean, it wasn't all that hard to fill in the rest, all right?" she snapped, feeling with certainty that if she hadn't revealed too much of herself before, she'd definitely done so now.
"Where are you hearing all this stuff from, anyway?" he asked, aghast, brows scrunching with offense. "You shouldn't believe everything you hear from the girls' locker room, you know."
Something flickered within her—shame and hope, pride and anger—but the fact that he hadn't answered her question didn't escape her, and so Korra couldn't quite bring herself to acknowledge his point. "You gonna tell me none of it's true?" she argued. Defensively, she added, "And I don't waste my time with gossipy liars, Tahno; it's not exactly difficult to catch wind of your rumor mill when it's one of the largest on the field."
Tahno leaned back, thrown off-guard by the vehemence in her voice. "All right," he said slowly, expression tightening. "So what if it is true?" he asked challengingly, while Korra glared up at him. "Even if it were, it's not like I even knew you back then—none of it would have anything to do with you."
Korra felt something grow hard and cold in the pit of her stomach; it was more confirmation than she'd expected, more than she'd wanted, but it was exactly what she needed. "You still haven't given me a straight answer even now," she pointed out tetchily. "Do you not see how sketchy that looks? And you honestly didn't think I'd be interested in knowing about something like that?"
"Half the time, I didn't know what you were interested in," he threw back. "Seriously, so what if I have a couple of girls who regularly show up to my meets?"
"That is not what bothered me, Tahno, and you know it."
"Do I?" Tahno countered, which gave Korra pause. His eyes were very earnest, very open, very resentful, when he said, "Do I really know what's going on inside your head? What did bother you, new girl? Apparently, you've been listening to all these rumors about me for however long, and you've been letting it affect whatever you thought of me—this is all news to me," he told her spitefully, while Korra stood in stony silence. "Though I can tell you right now that it woulda done me a lot more good to have known this a week ago." Korra frowned, but before she could interrupt, Tahno cut in again, harsh and grim: "You want to know the truth? Fine. Here it is.
"You think I'm a dick of a captain because I don't play Mom to all the underclassmen?" he asked, jaw tight. "Just because I don't treat my teammates according to the way of the Fox, and I don't involve myself in their little affairs, or because I'm too focused on my own, it doesn't mean that I care about them or our success any less. And just because I don't play the Great Big Hero like other captains, doesn't mean that I'm impervious to their losses, too. We were all hit hard by what happened last Saturday. All of us," Tahno insisted, eyes hard. "And secondly, as for your little rumors: so what if I have created a bit of a reputation for myself in extracurriculars—"
Korra's brow slanted. "Extracurriculars?"
"—but maybe next time you could try coming right out and asking me about what your little Fox friends spin in your ear, instead of just assuming the worst and leaving me in the dark."
Korra gaped at him. Almost beside herself, she marched closer and, seething, demanded, "Are you kidding me? How, exactly, would you have liked me to phrase that? 'Gosh, pretty boy—word on the street is that you hold the record for most regional titles and local hook-ups—care to comment'? Damn." Korra heaved a frustrated sigh and turned away, shifting her weight over the dirt, all the while feeling like it could give out beneath her at any moment, like quicksand. "And don't even get me started on your petty little, life-long rivalry with Ma—"
"Petty? What would you know about—"
"Goddammit, Tahno—the point that I was trying to get at was that I don't actually care if you've already done your own thing in the past, or if you've been with other girls before. Okay?" She sighed a huff and slowly turned to faced him again, arms crossed over her front. Resolutely, plainly, (half-heartedly) she shrugged. "I really don't."
But Tahno only frowned, which just confused Korra all the more. "Then why all the fuss?" he asked, slowly. "If you're not even all that concerned, then why—"
"Because it's more than just about that!" Korra accused, silencing him. "Because we're supposed to be friends! Or—we were, at least. Because—I thought—because this is the sort of stuff you should tell a friend, isn't it?" she accused, feeling her lungs fill with hot, burning air. "I mean, I know I'm new, but... when I ended up being the last to know... And I'm no expert on friendships but that seems like something you should tell someone, when we're that... Like, when two people are..." She trailed off messily, already lost amongst her own thoughts, and she backpedaled rapidly, soaring down another path. "And yeah, you know what?" she snapped. I did overreact when I heard that you'd already had your dance, and that you'd been been named King, because I found out about everything all at once and I was—I was upset by how little of it I'd actually heard about from you, and yeah, you said I could have asked you outright, afterward, instead of just assuming, but you sure as hell didn't exactly offer up any reassurance when I did bring it up, either!"
Tahno remained frozen to the spot. "I don't understand," he said at length, every inch of him strained. Watching her very carefully, he asked, "So... You're not angry about the fact that I have hooked up with other girls—and to be clear: plenty... of girls—but you're angry that I'm not the one who told you?"
Korra's frown deepened. Oh, no, she thought, as angry sparks burned in her eyes. I'm pretty furious about that, too. But hell if she was going to admit it.
"Am I not making this clear?" she asked, frustration trailing across her skin in tiny, undulating waves. "I was pissed off because we were supposed to be friends! And you never told me, and then because you were so tight-lipped about it all, even when I mentioned it!"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Tahno demanded, eyes wild. "You think I wanted you to know any of that?"
"Well, apparently, everyone else did," she spat.
"You just said yourself that you weren't interested in what my track record looks like!"
"But the rest of the world is," she pointed out, feeling her neck grow hot with sweat. "And if I'm going to be barraged like that, I'd like to have a—I don't know, a warning or something! All it took was one comment about your little escapades for me to realize how little I actually know you," Korra tried to explain. "Seriously—I couldn't have defended you, even if I wanted to, because I—because I didn't know..."
"What?" he demanded. "Didn't know what?"
"Because I didn't even know what side you were on!" Korra hissed.
He scoffed, harsh and derisive. "So you've finally caught Fire and added yourself to the ranks of the rivalry, is that it?"
"It is not," Korra insisted, feeling the face paint stretch across her cheeks. "I meant with me!"
Tahno blinked. "What?" he breathed.
"I meant if you were even on my side," she repeated, feeling painfully unclear. "I meant if you... Goddammit, Tahno, what else was I supposed to think, when I heard all of that? I felt so stupid. We went on runs together every weekend, for weeks, without anybody knowing—"
"Does someone know—?"
"And I—I started to feel like we were actually..." But she couldn't say it, even now. "And then someone goes and throws all that at me. And then Saturday happened and then Tuesday, and you—you, who are the most despicable, confusing, self-centered asshole on the planet—"
"—uhh, you don't think that's a bit harsh?"
"And now you invade my Homecoming and proceed to berate me with all of my mistakes over the last week or so—"
"Berate you? I'm not—"
"And you still aren't owning up to your side of the wrong—"
"I've done plenty of owning these last few—"
"Do you have any idea how stupid I felt?" she snarled. "Sitting in Asami's car and listening to her rattle off all these little fun, surprising details about how proudly promiscuous you are? To hear her talk about your extracurriculars like that, so casually? Like it was no big deal? Like it was public knowledge?"
"That can't have been the first time one of the Foxes has said something incriminating about me behind my back," Tahno pointed out condescendingly, frown tightening."You must have heard about a lot more than just my hobbies, and definitely more than you're letting on—before you met me a month ago, before I ever even approached you at the first meet."
"Your arrogance certainly preceded you," she sniped.
"But that didn't stop you—that afternoon, when you ran into me at the park."
"When I ran into you—?"
"You'd had to have heard enough about me by then. But you still ran with me," Tahno reminded her pointedly, glaring as she glared back. "You knew all about me, from your little Fire Foxes, even when we ran that first race in the arboretum, and you cheated."
"I did not—"
"Face it, new girl. You knew what you were getting yourself into."
Korra's jaw tightened. Not at all, she thought, dropping her eyes to her toes. "Not with this," she whispered, voice suddenly gone quiet. "I think... I think that's the point of what I've been trying to say. I didn't know. And I so rarely know what I'm getting myself into, and I just—wanted to know, for once," she sighed, already feeling like she'd given far too much away. (But if there was some secret message encoded inside, she apparently wasn't very good at presenting it; Tahno obviously hadn't decoded any special meaning behind her words.) "I—I didn't want to be left in the dark either, and when I found out that I already had been... I'm just done with finding out something that I should have known way sooner, and then—and then wind up getting hurt, okay?"
At length, Tahno asked, "That's what you think's gonna happen?"
That's what did happen. "Look," Korra tried again. "Friendships—friendships are very new to me, okay? I still don't really know how they work, always." Then she revealed: "And I don't want to just end up getting played."
A breath passed, before Tahno shrugged his hands into his hoodie pockets—exasperated, confused, probably a little bit of everything—and then looked at her, really looked at her. "How would that even happen?"
He seemed to be asking something important, something more than what he just kept repeating, but all Korra could think about was the memory of a conversation in the school library—what kind of game are you—and an awkward proposal by her locker and the look on Bolin's devastated face when she'd told him no. "Sometimes, it can just... sorta happen," she said quietly. "Even if you don't mean to."
Tahno scoffed, then nodded, tight and stiff, as his expression closed off. "Right," he said skeptically. "And—I mean—you wouldn't be an expert on that either, would you?"
Korra stilled. Lips run dry, she looked up with narrowing eyes and asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"And what about this weekend?" he demanded suddenly, and she didn't understand why they were still angry with one another, where this ire was still coming from. "About the messages I never got from you, after I got fucked over at the race. Where was the friendship in that?"
Korra's frown deepened. "Look, this isn't helping anything," she sighed. "We're not getting anywhere, and besides, this isn't even what I came out here to tell you."
"Well, there's a surprise."
She faltered. "All right, enough. What the hell are you getting at?"
"What? You mean—meaning one thing and ending up saying another thing entirely?" he huffed. "Yeah, 'cuz that doesn't sound like you at all."
What?
"I don't—that's not—I'm not like that," she asserted.
"You sure about that?" Tahno challenged, taking a step closer. "Because from the looks of it, new girl, the only one around here playing games is you."
Red flashed before her eyes, but her stomach dropped. If there was one fear that had lodged itself deeply into the veins of her heart—if its name was Bolin, or Mako, or Asami—then he'd hit the nail right on the head. "What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded, trying to get her mind back in working order.
"One minute we're fine, and everything is—fine," Tahno looked at her,and she couldn't tell if he was yelling at her or if he was asking her this as a question. (Her heart stuttered just a bit over the way he hesitated just before he said the word fine.) "And the next minute you're—you're on my case about something that meant absolutely nothing to me, and then the next thing I know, you just—you practically disappear. I don't hear from you for hours, and when I do, it's a completely different new girl than the one I'd gotten used to over the last month. And now it's been a week, and I still haven't seen her since." He scoffed. "You know... What happened to you? When you first came here, you didn't let anybody give you any shit. You said whatever crazy-ass thing was on your mind, and you dealt with the consequences later. You just said whatever you wanted, and you meant it."
"Yeah, and in case you haven't been listening, that's sorta how I very nearly put my parents jobs' at risk, and why I was shipped off to this miserable little town in the first place," she bit back. "Developing a filter is sort of the whole point."
"A filter isn't the same thing as a dam," Tahno spit back. "You know I spent this whole week—until yesterday, when you finally fucking texted me back—thinking that you believed it was actually me who spiked your Ferret captain?"
"What?" Korra hissed, as blinding shock split her brain. "That is the stupidest—"
"How was I supposed to know!" he hissed back. "You didn't call! And when you did, you never said otherwise! I thought you'd turned out to be just like everybody else! You didn't call, you didn't text—you weren't coming to the arboretum anymore!"
"I didn't think you'd want me around!" she spat. (Wait, Korra's heart pounded. Had he gone to the arboretum?)
"You didn't ask!"
Korra's mouth fell open, agape. "It's not like you tried to get in touch with me either!" she spat. "And I did first try to call you—you didn't pick up! And then when you did answer me, finally, you were such an asshole that I couldn't even think about talking to you again!"
"I already apologized!"
"Yeah, and now we're going in damn circles," Korra spat. "When you were disqualified from the race last Saturday"—she ignored his wince—"the last thing I thought you'd want was for me to even try to talk to you. Why the hell would you want me around after the way things ended Friday night, after the way you avoided me the morning of the meet, and especially after it!"
Tahno shook his head, his lip curling as he gathered his thoughts. "I've already told you, right before a race—"
"Oh, don't you even dare try to pull the 'I was at a race, so all of my actions are excusable' card right now, because having a one-track mind does not make you forgivable for really asshole-ish behaviors—and regardless, there's no way you can ignore how uncomfortable I was with even considering asking you to speak to me after what happened."
"What are you talking about?"
"No matter how you look at it, the Fire Foxes are still a part of my family. You know that I'm still friends with Mako—see?" she cried, as he turned away in disgust. "I wasn't about to pick a side, Tahno."
He bit his cheek, hard. "Is that what he's making you do?"
"That's what you want me to do!" Korra glowered. "That's what everyone expects me to do, and I refuse to. I didn't choose to side with either of you."
"So you upped and ran instead?"
"I didn't run anywhere. And even if I did, it's better than lashing out, which is what I normally do!"
"Then what do you call this?"
"I call this being confused. I call this being totally unfamiliar with how to deal with shit I'm uncomfortable with that doesn't involve hitting something—"
"Or someone."
"Or blindly ramming in headfirst to try to handle really awful situations and—"
"Nobody ever receives training on how to be a decent person," he cut in, eyes hard.
"Oh, yeah—that's rich, coming from you."
"Or how to have guts, no matter where you grow up," he said flatly. "You're not going to be able to pull the wild girl card forever."
"Oh, and I suppose you would know," she spat. "You, who walks around this place like you're so much better than everybody else, like you'd rather die than live the rest of your life in this little town—but you're no different than anyone else," she accused, spitefully, while Tahno scowled in silence. But she couldn't stop. "Same narrow-minded beliefs and arrogant pride, and hubris, and hey, it's not like I got any messages from you either, did I? While you were scolding me for being a ghost just now, did you even think to text me during those first few days yourself?"
"I'd just lost everything!" he snarled, and Korra's heart tightened painfully in her chest. "I didn't know what to say!"
"And I did?" she nearly laughed, feeling herself begin to fray. "Don't kid yourself, Tahno. You wanted to be alone. And I got that, okay? I don't blame you or anything, because—because—"
"But that's—that's just it," Tahno snapped, throwing his hands in the air with a jarring growl. "That's not—I didn't—okay, yeah, when it first happened, I wanted to be alone," he admitted harshly, grudgingly. "I didn't want to see anybody—or anybody to see me—least of all you, or your fucking team, because I—I'd never... I couldn't even face what'd happened myself, so how the hell was I supposed to face anyone else? All right—all right, fine," he spat. "Fucking fine. You were right; I wanted to be alone. I didn't want you to see me like that. I didn't want to see you. Are you fucking happy now?"
Korra merely looked at him, and let all of the disappointment shine through her eyes. (She was not going to cry; those were not tears.) Korra's skin was thick, tough; years of battering winds and jagged stones had roughened her around the edges, had grown calluses where most others had smooth pads of softness. It took a lot to get under it.
But people tended to forget that she wasn't as hard as she looked.
"Ecstatic," she whispered, bitter and flat and hollow.
Tahno's eyes fell away, dropping to the space between them, and she could see his brows knitting themselves together, even from this distance. But it didn't matter.
"At least..." he coughed, clearing his throat. "At least until I was alone." When he looked up, she thought he almost looked sorry. "I was so angry, at first. At everything. And I didn't realize just how angry until later. I'd expected you to call, but you didn't, and when you did, you didn't... say anything. Like you weren't sure how to act around me anymore." He stared at the ground. "I thought you believed I did it. That you were just... I don't know. Taking pity on me or something."
Feeling as though she'd been hollowed out, Korra tried to take a deep breath. It came out shallow and shaky, so she tried again. Finally, she whispered, "That was really stupid of both of us." Another sigh, and some of the heaviness fell away; her head felt light, but clear. "I should have called you right away," she admitted, another apology laced through the endless stream, but her eyes still pierced when she added, "And you shouldn't have taken your anger out on me."
Tahno's face tightened, but he ducked away his expression before she could see the full effect, turning toward the ground. It wasn't like him, Korra thought. He was standing there like he knew what was coming. Like he was waiting for another blow.
Korra nodded slowly, biting her lip. "All right," she said softly. The finality of it didn't escape her ears.
Tahno waited, but was met with only silence. "That's it?" he asked after a long moment, searching her eyes. "That's... all you're gonna say?"
She shrugged, feeling another burden lift from her shoulders. "Was there something else you were hoping to hear?" she asked, tired and resigned.
Tahno was blown away by the switch, and Korra sighed. "What's the deal?" he whispered, narrowing his eyes at her in confusion, obviously dissatisfied. (Had he expected her to have another argument lined up? Something else that he could fight her on, even now? Had he really thought we could keep this up forever?) Korra felt her insides harden, cold and solid.
"You know, I guess we really are alike in certain ways," she whispered, feeling a sad smile tugging at her lips. "You may mean well, but your execution sucks."
Tahno blinked. "Look," he breathed, as realization struck, and she could see the backpedaling in his eyes. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to—to blow up at you or anything—"
"You wanna know what's on my mind right now?" she asked quietly.
He paused, just for a moment. But then he swallowed and his head nodded once, ever-so-slightly. "Tell me."
"I'm thinking that—at least, for a while there," she laughed under her breath, smiling a self-depreciative smile into the dark. "I actually liked you."
Tahno stared.
"I really, actually liked you," she repeated, feeling it all spill over. She wanted to stop, but she couldn't bring herself to do it; it was already too late. You want what's on my mind? Fine. Take it. "Despite your blatant disrespect for what's become my second family, and your selfishness, your sexist attitude, and just being an asshole in general, I actually, really liked you. I thought there was so much more to you than any of that, and I'm so stupid, because I felt like I could see it, and I... I felt sort of special." She nodded, staring into the blankness spread across his face. "I thought we were friends and I—I wanted more. And even just a few minutes ago, before you showed up—I was really regretting what I said, when I asked you to leave me alone. And now?" Another laugh, lost in the night air. "I have no idea why."
It felt good, Korra realized, to have said it finally, even if it was technically too late. (Even if it technically didn't matter anymore.) It was like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, like the hard, cold stone that had resided in her stomach for a week was finally dissipating. Granted, the slow curl of apathy that was seeping in its place wasn't a much better alternative, but luckily, Korra was too exhausted to care.
Tahno had yet to say anything, leaving the two of them in blaring silence, though Korra felt strangely calm. With her confession came a bit of impassivity, and a bit of freedom different than she'd ever known. Stolid and solid, she stood and waited, and absently wondered if she should be heading back.
"You... Why didn't you say anything?" Tahno asked quietly, expression unreadable. "Before?"
Korra shrugged, feeling strangely unaffected. "For the same reason anyone keeps something like that to themselves," she said simply, knowing that this conversation was quickly approaching its end. "Confusion," she offered, shaking her head slightly, and, "Fear."
Tahno's mouth opened, and he moved forward, and a flash of something about his movements caught Korra's eye—a rush of determination—and he urged out, "Korra—"
But then her eyes caught sight of something else, hanging on his wrist, and—before she realized what she'd done—she'd taken hold of his left arm, one hand grasping the delicate bones of his wrist, and the other high on his forearm, pulling back the thick sleeve of his hoodie. She was looking at the expanse of pale skin just above his palm, and what rested there.
Scarcely breathing, Korra quietly asked, "What is that?"
Tahno glanced down to where her eyes burned, almost as if he had been expecting it; almost as if he had never seen it before in his life.
There, on his wrist, was a very familiar elastic band, a very familiar shade of navy blue.
"You left it in the car last week," Tahno swallowed, looking up to gauge her reaction. Korra could feel his gaze; she purposefully avoided his eyes. "I'd planned to give it back to you the next time I saw you."
Korra swallowed hard.
"And when was that supposed to be?" she whispered.
Tahno licked his lips. "I wasn't sure."
Had he been wearing it this whole time? Korra blinked away the lightheadedness, and tried to think back. He could have just thrown it away after—after... He's held onto it this whole week? Korra swallowed. But...
Tahno raised his other hand to the wrist in her grasp, and moved as if to pull it off, but Korra jerked her head sharply, a quick, unsteady shake.
Which was stupid, Korra realized belatedly. Which was stupid, because now they were standing right in front of one another, toe-to-toe, with Tahno's bare wrist between them and both of Korra's hands on his warm skin, and his other hand, hovering, just above hers and their faces, so close together, although neither of them would look up. She could feel the ends of his long bangs, falling just shy of her hairline, and his shallow breathing, dancing along her cheek, and still they stared, down at the arm between them, the way she held him, the way his hand almost touched hers, but not quite.
And it was still on his wrist and he'd tried to give it back and she'd told him no so what the hell did that mean and what am I supposed to do now?
"I missed you," he whispered, suddenly, and she was proud of herself for the way she didn't jump or collapse or fall to pieces.
With a swallow to clear her throat, Korra managed, "Me? Or my crazy?"
She imagined that she could feel the air shift, that she could feel the beginnings of a smile curl his lips. A real one, like the few she'd seen before. Maybe.
"Both," he admitted.
Korra's heart squeezed in her chest. I missed you, too, she thought, against all her better judgment, and licked her lips to prepare the words, and looked up, to face him. She expected to see the fabric of his hood, the crown of his head—anything but his eyes—but he'd looked up as well, and he was standing there, watching her, and heat surged through her veins. Unthinkingly, her hold—on his wrist, on his arm—tightened slightly, a simple reaction, an instinct, and he shifted forward, as if she'd tugged him closer, as if he'd felt a pull. (She hadn't. He hadn't.) And Korra could only watch, to the sounds of a deafening heartbeat pounding in her ears, as the traces of a smile faded from his eyes—replaced by something dark and burning and powerful—and—her eyes dropped to his lips—his head lowered down, and there he stilled, waiting, and as his breath ghosted over her mouth, Korra closed her eyes.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
And deep where they hid in the woods,
Korra's trained ears heard crunching leaves and snapping twigs,
and the unmistakable sounds of footsteps
approaching.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.