A/N: This chapter took a bit longer because writing that focuses on Sokka is often inherently more difficult for me to write, and the past week has seen a lot of...craziness. Which my subconscious was already exploring through this story and will eventually live out later. Anyway. Enjoy the chapter or something.
What I Learned at SRU
Chapter 27- Big Bro
- Tuesday, November 9th, 2010 -
"She rubs me the wrong way, Sweetie. I don't appreciate her attitude."
Sokka rubbed his palm over his increasingly scruffy chin - he decided in that moment that he would shave that night - and contemplated his girlfriend's statement.
"Toph can be a little...difficult...now and again, but it's not like Jane's any better."
Suki sighed and shrugged, poking at her leafy salad.
"But...Sokka, Jane is at least supportive within the band. She encourages the rest of us, she does her part, she accepts and adapts to criticism...But all Toph does is dish out insults and...and she's just very negative to herself and the rest of the band."
"Weellll, she's, like...a music major and stuff," Sokka loosely defended, smearing barbecue sauce across his burger with the topside bun.
"So?" Suki quipped, spearing some spinach.
"So, she's all super-critical of music and performance and...all that jazz. Heh. Literally." Suki ignored his accidental joke and continued.
"I'm just worried that if we don't nip this issue in the bud it's always going to be a problem." She chewed on her salad in an indignant demeanor.
"What are ya complainin' to me for then?" groaned Sokka, finally taking a bite of his meaty salami/ham/turkey sandwich.
"I just thought you might have some advice as to how I should...deal with the girl."
"OK, OK," Sokka spat through burger chunks. He swallowed. "First, you should stop talking about Toph like a weed. I mean, she is like one - she's a damned terror, haha - but she is a person. And she has her reasons for...being the way she is."
"But that's her place to tell you - not mine. Point is: with Toph, she can be a stubborn little prick when she has a mind to. To earn her respect, you gotta be stubborn right back."
"Hm." Suki didn't seem to have much to say to that.
"Anyway, think about it, Snookums."
Suki's solemn face cracked, giving way to a smirk.
"I will, you buffoon."
- Wednesday, November 10th, 2010 -
Sokka picked out his sister's walk amongst the crowd of students exiting their afternoon classes. She was dressed in her blue Aqua hoodie, her head covered by its hood, a single textbook tucked under her arm.
"Katara!" he called out, waving up an arm. Her bobbed head perked up and scanned around, eyes wide. Having noticed her brother, she waved back and made her way over. Her expression was worn, somewhat dulled. She approached her brother, who stood in a brown sweater just off the sidewalk. Sokka accepted her with open arms and she plunged herself into his chest, one arm in her hoodie pouch, the other against her book. He enveloped his sister, washing his love over her.
"Hey, Sis," he warmly greeted.
"Hey, Bro," she sighed back.
"Did it go OK?"
Katara took a deep breath and shifted her head, resting her chin on his shoulder.
"What did the counselor say?"
"He wants me to stay on my meds..."
"OK. Hm." Sokka scratched at the back of her head. "That's what you're hung up about, huh?"
"You know what I'm gonna tell you," Sokka said simply.
"Yea. It just...ugh. It sucks. I hate this. I hate...feeling like I need...need some drug just to...get by. Like I need my stupid...happy pill to feel good."
"Hey, hey - lots of people need medicine for things all the time," Sokka pointed out.
"Yea, Sokka - when they're sick, or have some...some problem with their body." Katara lifted herself from his body, but he kept his hands planted on her shoulders. "What does it say when I need pills for my...my brain? Huh?"
"Your brain is part of your body, too, Sis."
"It says I'm messed up in the head, Sokka. That's what it says..."
"You are not messed up in the head!"
"Why does everyone complain about how I'm on edge all the time? Or-or how I'm controlling? And-and needing to fix everything, and-?"
"Hey." Sokka's hands clamped down and he gave Katara a gentle stir. He stared at her with calming, icy blue eyes, like the sky on a snowy, winter afternoon. "Katara. Everyone has their problems. OK? You're doing something about yours. Just 'cuz you take an anti-depressant, that doesn't mean you're some psychopath. Chill out. You're perfectly sane - more than I am, anyway. So stop being a perfectionist and deal. You're not perfect." He pulled her trembling form in for another hug. "But you're my sister, and you're about as close to perfect as anyone needs." He pressed his lips into her temple and gave her a gentle kiss, rubbing her back as her quivering breath settled.
"Thanks, Sokka...I guess I'm just...overreacting. It's been a long day."
"I hear that." Sokka squeezed her tight before letting her go. "Where you headed next?" He eased her to proceed along, across the dry autumn grass.
"Back to Aqua before my last class," Katara explained, still tense. "I need to...just...-"
"Watch kitten videos on YouTube for a little while."
Katara choked out a laugh through her worry and glared at Sokka with narrowed eyes accented by a smile.
- Thursday, November 11th, 2010 -
"What's wrong with two civilized folks having a chat over coffee on a Thursday afternoon?" Sokka shot a snarky smile Jane's way, leaning back in his chair casually.
"Hey, roommate!" chimed the girl from behind the counter. "Is he harassing you?" she joked from across the way.
"Naw, Jin...He's just...like this," Jane called back. "If you ignore him, eventually he just goes away." As she said the last part, she stared Sokka dead in the eyes with a danpan glance, brows raised.
Sokka gasped, grasping his chest.
"I am hurt, Jane."
"Wounded, even?" Jane dully shot back without any letup on the dry humor.
Sokka grinned wide and reached out an arm to slap her on the shoulder.
"Ha, I knew showin' ya that Scott Pilgrim movie would do ya good."
Jane slowly shook her head, casually brushing his arm aside and sipping her mint latte.
"Yea," she sarcastically agreed, "I really connect with that Kim character. Gee, I wonder why you think we're so similar?"
"I knew you would. You've both got so much going for you: freckles, red hair, bitchiness..."
"So how are things going with that gang of yours, SmellyJane?"
"Told you not to fuckin' call me that," Jane hissed with a quiet voice, clutching her coffee cup tightly.
"Sorry, slip of the tongue," Sokka said with an exaggerated shrug. He stared, wide-eyed and expectant, at Jane. The girl resisted for a moment, but eventually gave in.
"Mmm...Tongue," she quoted the film again. She froze, squinted her eyes shut tight, and slapped herself in the forehead, grumbling, "Good God, I hate you."
"The feeling is mutual, my friend," Sokka chuckled. "But seriously, I know you and John-Boy have been in a rough patch. What's up?"
"Since when do you care?" Jane asked, trying to temper her humor with a sharpness - her words intended to come out like a steak knife but ended up like a butter knife instead. As she slurped on her drink, Sokka shrugged.
"The Fearsome Fivesome looks out for its own. I've been hearing some rumblings going on about the Freedom Fighters, soooo...-" He scratched his arm and shrugged yet again. "Just checkin' that they're not messin' with ya."
"No," Jane shook her head with a sigh. "Haven't heard from any of them. Well..." She smirked and rolled her eyes. "Those two goofballs - Pipsqueak and The Duke - they say 'hi' once in a while, but...Nah. It's just difficult with Johnny..." She frowned and pinched at her temples to subdue a coming headache. "Pff. I mean, Longshot, whoever the fuck he is anymore..."
"Sorry there, Freckles..." Sokka muttered his sympathy before he chugged down a large gulp of his drink. "Guess you guys are still trying to sort things out, eh?"
"I don't know what to do," Jane growled, avoiding Sokka's probing gaze. "I've been hearin' crap, too. Stuff like...how the Freedom Fighters are trying to stir shit up with the Rhinos, get revenge, that kinda thing. Wayward's not a big enough town for both of 'em...I dunno what's gonna happen if fists start flyin'. Ya know?"
"Yea..." Sokka nodded with dire contemplation. "But...If fists do start flying...-?" He narrowed his pale blue eyes at her with inquisition.
"No," she immediately assured. "No, no...Fuck no. I ain't gettin' involved. Period. I'll convince Johnny to sit it out, and...and that'll be that." She was not quite certain in her own words, Sokka could tell.
"And if he refuses?" Sokka pondered the heavy question. Dreary olive eyes glanced up at his serious expression through dark rings.
"I've got no fuckin' idea," she admitted, grinding her jaw to the side with doubt. Her expression - if only for a brief moment - was pleading and afraid, but she quickly masked it through a sip of coffee.
"Jane..." Sokka murmured - he rarely called her just 'Jane' - setting his elbows on the table and his chin against his folded wrists. "I don't mean to pry, here, but...From what my Sis has told me, you don't...really have anywhere to go when you're not here...at SRU, I mean."
Jane bobbed her head and rubbed her eyebrow nervously.
"Nah, I'm...all good. I've got places."
"P-places," she spat. Her face was simmering. He knew the truth - and he knew that she knew that he knew the truth. She hated admitting her vulnerability, of course. She was Jane. This was expected. "Like...ya know, with Johnny's family. It's none o' yer business, anyway. Don't worry about it." Things with the Fitzpatricks were touch-and-go at best, and usually 'go' given her attitude toward them as of late, which left Johnny's endearing southern family as her only other choice now that things with the Fighters had gone rotten.
Sokka smirked at her distraught fidgeting - she was squirming in her seat and kept touching her brows as she drank.
"Well, uh..." He nodded slowly, picking up his coffee cup. "If, for some reason, p-places-" he mocked her stammering, "- don't work out for ya, I'm sure there will be room at the Kesuk house for Thanksgiving break." He raised his cup to her, and she glared at him suspiciously as she knocked her cup against his. They both took a swig. "Even though you Americans are stupid and celebrate Thanksgiving at the wrong time of the year..."
"Heh." Jane's brow - thoroughly rubbed at this point - lifted and her eyes spun around with a sigh. "Ya know," Sokka went on proudly, "Our dad insisted that he would put off celebrating Thanksgiving until this month just for us."
"That's how awesome he is."
"Don't sound so interested. Geez. It's a big deal for us. Imagine celebrating Thanksgiving in October."
"Pff. Couldn't care less," Jane groaned, quickly turned off by the conversation concerning the holiday. "Thanksgiving is fuckin' retarded. Pig out on food, watch football..."
"Yea, just another excuse for you Americans to eat too much," Sokka agreed, but he'd lost her - she was definitely brewing, and from the looks of it, about some unpleasant memory related to the holiday. "Well..." Sokka dropped it. Seemed like a sore spot for her, likely due to the familial issues. "How about celebrating St. Pattie's Day in April?"
Jane's bitterness melted away into a grin at Sokka's efforts to pry into her head.
"Yea, yea," she chuckled. "All right, I'll bite. That would be fuckin' weird."
"Drinkin' green bear while eating Easter Eggs would be odd, right?"
"Sure..." Jane's expression went dull for a moment, like she was zoning out, wandering elsewhere.
"Wouldn't want to throw off your Irish biological clock, with the-"
"Sokka." Jane cut in solemnly with a sigh. "Could we...-?" She lifted up her hands as if to try grasping them around some invisible object before her face. "Could we stop pissin' around for, like, five seconds here?"
"Huh?" Sokka felt his intestines twist at her confrontational demeanor.
"That's great that you're such a fuckin' wise ass, Sokka," Jane grumbled. "But I don't fuckin' get you. It's like, one second you're an idiot, then you're all serious and acting like you give a shit, and then you're a fuckin' moron, all over again."
"I could say the same about you, Ginger," pointed out Sokka with some defense. She glowered at him with a puzzled expression for a moment but his telling glance made her realize just how hypocritical she was being - if only one replaced words like "idiot" and "moron" with "bitch" and "jerk."
"Fair enough," she huffed. "Just don't get why you...-"
"Why I'd care?"
"Yea," burst the grouchy girl incredulously.
"Jane, you've gotta get over this...this insecurity problem you have," Sokka threw his words out on the table neatly. "I can't speak on behalf of anyone else, but within our little clan? You're golden. Trust us, Jane. Stop making up excuses as to why no one should care. So what if you're all grumpy and mean some times? You aren't to us, and when you are - at this point - you're just joking around. Usually."
"Usually..." Jane agreed with a small smile.
"There are reasons why Katara and you became friends in the first place, Jane."
"Yea, because of Jet..."
"No, I mean, why you and Katara became friends. Jane, my sister doesn't make friends - the way she has with you, like Toph and Aang - unless she has a good reason. My sister, she meets acquaintances, but she makes friends. It's...very 'on purpose' for her. So, obviously, she saw a good purpose in you."
"Hmph..." Jane stared at the green dragon printed on her coffee cup stubbornly, her cheeks flashed for just a moment.
"You remember a while back, when I told you cut the 'tough girl' act?"
"Mm." Jane shrugged with a slight nod.
"You did," Sokka observed. "Now, I'm asking you - not telling you - to stop selling yourself short. Drop the doubt, just trust us, huh?" He extended his arm out, his elbow still on the table. Jane gripped it in return and they squeezed tight before letting go and bumping knuckles together.
"Got it," Jane confirmed, tilting her chin up with a cocky grin.
- Friday, November 12th, 2010 -
Sokka peered into practice room after practice room until at last he found the right one. He knocked on the door twice, gave pause for a moment, then proceeded in.
"Hello?" She perked her head up.
"Oh...Hey, Snoozles..." She drooped back down.
"Pff. Don't sound so excited to see m-...er...hear me."
Toph pulled her guitar strap off her shoulders and rested the instrument against the wall beside her. She was sitting on the carpeted floor, her back wedged into a corner of the room.
"Excuse me, Captain Sarcasm. Not in the fuckin' mood to get made fun of for being disabled today."
OK, then. Someone's not in the best of moods, I suppose...
"Whoa, hey," Sokka eased, sliding himself down on the wall adjacent Toph and her guitar. "I'll retract my claws if you do, Kiddo."
"What's eatin' ya?" Sokka inquired, staring at her subtly distraught face. With her head bobbed, Toph's bangs were arranged in such a way that it made it even more difficult than usual to decipher her mood. She always turned stoic when she got upset. Aang was easy to read. He practically wore his emotions on his sleeve, especially when he was angry. Admittedly, Aang didn't get angry all that much, but when he was, you knew damn well. Toph, though, for all of her humor, could really wall herself up when upset. Sokka knew Katara had learned to pry her way through those cracks but it was an art he was still learning, himself.
"Twinkles and I had a...spat...last night," Toph grumbled.
"Oh?" Sokka was naturally curious but knew that with Toph, it was often best to just let her say whatever she was going to say. That, or get your face chewed off.
"He keeps saying he just wants to take it slow, take it slow, take it slow. Ugh!" She kicked her bare foot out into the air and rubbed at her face in frustration. "I've been taking it slow! It's like...every time I try to...to...-" She grasped her fingers around before her. "-...reach out and do something, I just keep get let off."
"W-well, like...-" Toph's face was starting to brighten up a bit as she scratched her neck. She took a deep breath and plunged in. "OK. So, like, last night he kisses me, and I...ya know...kinda drag it out a bit, and try to slip some tongue in there, and he just breaks the whole thing off. It's just...urgh."
"Wait, wh-?" Sokka tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Was that, like the first time you guys tried frenching, or-...?"
"Pff, for him, maybe," Toph growled, slapping her fist into her lap. "At this rate, last time..."
"Someone sounds impatient," Sokka teased.
"Fuck's sake, man!" Toph roared, pounding her hands into the sides of her head in frustration. "I've been trying so fuckin' hard to be patient this whole time!"
"OK, OK, yea," agreed Sokka complacently, grabbing her wrists and easing her hands off her face. "I get ya, Toph. Not sayin' ya haven't been. You're right - you guys need to be moving at a pace that works for both of you."
"But how do we do that?" Toph huffed. "I don't get him! Some days he seems like he's totally into me, and others all he wants is to hold hands and cuddle. What the hell?" The last question was groaned out slowly as Toph bumped her head into the wall behind her.
"Uhh...Sorry, Dead-Eyes, but I'm not the person who would know those things."
"You're his roommate."
"So? I don't make out with him! Pretty sure you'd know better than me."
"You guys never talk about that kinda stuff?" Toph muttered, seemingly surprised.
"Well, like, I know how Katara really likes it when a guy goes to town across her neck, like with slow-"
"That's OK," burst out Sokka, cutting her at the pass. "I'm good. Point equals taken. Dudes don't exactly talk about that kinda stuff. Geez...I'm surprised you do, frankly."
"Why's that?" Toph defied with a pout.
"You're not exactly Miss Sentimental."
"I am a girl, Meat-Head. Know you forget that once in a while, but I am." She poked at her own breast mockingly through her green T-shirt.
"Psh, I don't forget," he insisted. "You mood swing often enough."
"You're one to talk. For a man you sure scare easily."
"OK, hey," Sokka defended vehemently. "Those don't count. They're a freak of nature. Why does anything need eight legs? Ever?"
"Th-that's more common than you think! It's easy for you to mot understand, you don't have to look at the damn things!"
"I had a traumatizing experience as a child! You couldn't possibly understand! And-and besides, this isn't about me, we're talking about you. Stop-...Back to...the other stuff." He was frowning bitterly, his machismo shattered to her delight.
"Psh. Are ya sure you don't have a vagina, too, Snoozles? It's OK. You can admit it. No one will hate-"
"Ice cold. That's me. Heh."
"I get it. That's why you need someone who will get you laid, then - to keep you warm."
"It all makes sense now."
"Just because it's true doesn't mean ya gotta rub it in, asshole."
"Wow, just goin' all out with the language today, aren't we?"
"Pff. Like you care."
"But Aang does. And if you have any hope of getting laid by him-"
"Hey, if anyone's gonna be doing any laying in this situation to anyone else, it's gonna be me. Let's make that clear, here."
"Wow, then. T.M.I. Dead-Eyes."
"Oh, come on, like that's any shocker to you."
"At this rate you're gonna work so hard trying to protect your girly-manliness that you're gonna lose those boobs and forget how to woo Twinkoh-Toez over. Watch out, there, Kiddo. Too much dramatic artificial testosterone and you'll get pulled into the world of underground wrestling or something. And that is a slippery slope, my friend. I'm not sure you're cut out for it."
"More than you, Meat-Head."
"OK. Lesson 1 of How to Turn Aang On: no punching."
"Awww...But I like punching."
"Most guys - especially Aang - don't get it off by getting rammed in the ribs by your fist. Just sayin'."
"All right, then, Oh, Master of Romance, what do you think I should try doing?"
- Saturday, November 13th, 2010 -
The cries of two dozen young adult males echoed out in unison across the soccer field from the bleachers, their words cued by what the were witnessing together.
"Foot. Foot. Foot, foot. Foot. Foot-foot-foot-foot...foot. HEAD!"
The small army of Aero men were dressed in a crazy assortment of clothing purely for the sake of drawing attention to themselves and making no sense. One wore an innertube over pajamas with a football helmet over his head, another had on a kilt and a Scottsman's hat, with a plastic bin slung over his shoulder to serve as a makeshift drum.
Their home team had scored by sneaking a shot into a corner of the net, slyly slipping through the goalie's defenses.
The group of boys was participating in an Aero tradition know as 'AeroDynamics.' The goal of this activity was to dress in as deviant a way as possible - while still legal - and bond together as young men supporting their school sport teams with lively and exaggerated cheers.
"We are on a freakin' roll today!" Sokka cheered, stomping his foot against the metal bench beneath him. His hair was pulled back into what he adamantly insisted was not a ponytail but a 'warrior's wolf tail' that poked out from under a viking helmet, with blue and gray paint plastered his face into a tribal design - an eyepatch veiled one eye to top it off. In one hand he waved a wooden boomerang with carvings dug into it - a relic he'd received from his father as a child. It had been obtained during his dad's honeymoon to Australia, and he lovingly treasured it as a prized possession. His dad always joked that it was a souvenir of Sokka's conception, so it was only fitting that he be given it. Appropriately enough, Sokka assigned the name "Boomerang" to the cherished family heirloom and often talked of it as if it were a person. In his other hand he waved around a plastic light-saber, its 'blade' a strong shade of purple. The valiant and equally eloquent name bequeathed to this accessory was "Space Sword." He wore a jersey of white with bright blue accents - number 42 on the back - that had blue lines that ran down the arms, forming into arrows at the wrists. The name "Sky Bisons" was emblazoned across the chest. He wore khaki slacks and his ever-present black loafers.
At his side, Aang wore a pirate hat with a matching jersey - his had a number 4 - and waved around an arm tucked into a puppet. The puppet - one he'd created himself - was shaped like a lemur with bright green eyes and long, floppy ears. Aang's face was a bit pale, and his eyes were slightly bloodshot.
Earlier that day, Aang had briefly touched upon his difficulties with Toph that week at Sokka's probing, but the conversation didn't really go anywhere. Sokka knew this was because Aang often felt more comfortable talking "girly" things with girls, and doing "manly" things with...men. While there was some concern, Sokka trusted that if his advice was truly desired, it would be asked for, and that as roommates and brothers in spirit, he'd be best servicing his friend by providing escapism when desired and relationship advice when requested.
As the teams lined up to prepare for the next kickoff, Sokka rallied the troops, and they joined in a battle cry as the ball was tipped off.
As the ball was tossed around the field, the men clapped and sang sports cheers manufactured in the basement of Aero from ancient times, eons ago. Tradition bound their actions together, as many acted as one. Men who might otherwise not really spend time together, or perhaps even hardly knew one another - me who maybe didn't even know each other's names - were united in these rituals, celebrating a bond of brotherhood born from the building they lived in.
As the timer counted down to halftime, the men grew rowdier. They counted down the final seconds, stamping their feet against the bleachers, louder and louder. The buzzer sounded off for halftime and the men of AeroDynamics concluded their feet pounding with a riotous roar, bounding down the metal seats in a berzerker rage, like crazed barbarians going out for a hunt. They raced in a clump to the concession stand, but quickly filed into a courteous line and settled down immediately.
"The Sky Bisons got this in the bag," Sokka proudly declared, lifting his eyepatch up and letting it stick to the side of his forehead.
"YEaH," Aang croaked, his voice crackly and hoarse. "THeY'rE dOiN' pReTtY gOoD tOdAy..."
"Whoa, there, Bud," Sokka chuckled, giving his friend a sympathetic pat on the back after stuffing his boomerang into his back pocket. "You, on the other hand, are not doing pretty good, are ya?"
"nAh, i'M-" Aang forced out a deep, rasping cough. "-i'M fInE, sOkKa..."
"You really are a sucky liar, Bro..."
"tHiNk i'M cOmIn' DoWn wItH sOmEtHiN'..." lamented Aang, drearily pounding his fist into his chest as he huffed out another violent cough.
"Just make sure it doesn't come down on me, man..." Sokka dug into his pant pocket, squirmed his fingers around the pen resting there, and retrieved a cough drop, which he then forced into Aang's hand.
With no resistance, Aang unwrapped the drop and popped it in his mouth, his cheeks pulling in as he sucked on it. He clenched his stomach, his lemur puppet biting its owner.
"Uhhhh, yeeeaa." Sokka's brows furrowed with concern at his roommate's condition. "I think someone ought to take it easy back at the dorm..."
"Ah-ah. Uh-uh. Keh-mon...We're headin' back, mate." Sokka grabbed Aang by the shoulders and spun him to the side, gently pushing him out of the line. They slowly marched back across campus, side by side, their conversation wandering as they went.
"aNd ThEn...AnD tHeN...tHaT pArT wHeN bEn ApOlOgIzEd tO lOcKe...lIkE...i WaS cRyInG LiKe sOoO mUcH aT tHaT pArT, mAn..."
"Uh-huh. Yea, Dude," Sokka pacified, rubbing his hand across Aang's back. "Deep stuff."
"i DoN't GeT...LiKe...wHy sO mAnY pEoPlE dIdN't LiKe ThE eNd..."
They entered their room at last, and Sokka laid Aang down in his bed. Still in a pirate hat, Aang nestled himself into his blanket with a lion's yawn before he exploded into a burst of coughs, thrusting the hat off his head and onto the floor.
"We'll have to pick this up some other time, Pal. Your throat is dead - you oughtta take it easy."
"GgRrRrmMmM...yOu GoT aNy MoRe CoUgH dRoPs...?"
"Sure thing." Sokka set his viking helmet on his bed post and pulled out the bag of Wood Frog cough drops from his dresser. He took the entire bag and tossed it on Aang's bed. It collided with Aang's stomach and the boy growled out in defiance but barely moved.
"No problem." Sokka sat down at his desk and opened up his laptop, booting it up.
[hey toph wont shutup bout aang not callin her back. he ok?]
[Yea, we've been at AeroDynamics and he's super sick. We won't be coming to dinner tonight.]
[k no big. she will deal. take care of that kid. or i will kick ur ass.]
As Sokka's desktop finished loading, he leaned back in his chair to observe his roommate. Aang was passed out, mouth agape, his hand - still wearing a puppet - sticking up out of his blanket on the pillow beside his face. The bag of cough drops was still on his abdomen.
[Doctor Sokktagonapus is in the house. It's all good.]
A/N: AeroDynamics is pretty much an activity my dorm used to do at sporting events. I'm sure it'll come up again later.