What I Learned at SRU -37-
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What I Learned at SRU
Chapter 37 - Nonsense
- Saturday, December 4th, 2010 -
Mai's rusty voice came out clear through the Jasmine Dragon's sound system, her eyes glued to her page as she read aloud at a crawling, thoughtful pace.
"The Black Rose grows.
It grows straight.
It will not wait,
And it shows."
Aang took a sip of his tea and nodded his head slowly, soaking in his friend's poetry as best he could.
"Wilted petals.
Dagger thorns.
No water will it take.
No halo, no horns,
Only its soil, its soul,
Burned ash, Black."
"Doesn't seem like a very cheery poem," Aang facetiously whispered to his neighbor, who chuckled.
"That's Mai for you," Zuko replied with a smirk as Mai took a sip of water from her bottle.
"The blue, bright sun
Gives it light.
The gray rains come
And give it much fright."
"I can't say I'm surprised, really," Aang acknowledged. "Seems like her."
"Yet from the same ash comes
Another flower,
A different tower,
Its Red petals shine."
"She used to be pretty private about it," Zuko explained, smiling at her words. "But I got her to be open with her writing."
"The Red and the Black,
Their roots both trace back
Down to the same source:
Remorse."
Mai gave pause, glancing up at the audience – to Zuko, specifically, a glint in her eyes, her skin paler than usual under the bright light above.
"Petals of pride
Will wither and die.
Then we'll begin
Clipping thorns of sin.
And at last, maybe then
Will the Roses take water
Within."
Her piece concluded, she gave a curt nod, eliciting a smattering of gentle applause as she gracefully took her leave of the stage.
"That was neat," complimented Aang. "I'm not really big into poetry, but...it seemed cool."
"Thanks," Mai accepted, slurping some strawberry smoothie through a straw from the plastic cup she had left at the table.
"So what does it mean?"
Mai blinked at Aang's curious face, her eyes shifting to Zuko, who gave an amused brow, clearly in the know.
"Uhh...It's...-" Mai shrugged, sucking more juice as she contemplated. "It's about a couple of old friends of mine."
"Ah. Well...It sounds like your friends have...some kind of...something...to sort out. Huh?"
"Heh. You could say that..."
"So, I do art-" Aang nodded to Mai. "-and you do art and poetry..." He nudged his paper cup to Zuko and took a sip. "But what about you, Zuko?"
"Huh?"
"He means your hobbies," Mai clarified gently, patting Zuko's shoulder with her slender fingers.
Zuko nodded, rubbing his palm along his defined jawline nervously.
"W-well...I guess you could say I like...er..."
"You like board games," Mai pointed out.
"Oh, hm. Yea. The classics: Chess, Backgammon, Chinese Checkers, Go..."
"Go? Go where?"
"Just 'Go.' You've never heard of it?"
Aang shook his head and gazed into his empty cup for a brief moment.
"Ah. Mmmaybe I could teach you some time."
"Totally."
"I've gotten Zuko into some drama shows, too," Mai tossed out casually.
"Oh, really?"
"Yea, this past month I've been showing him this one – it's really good – called Dexter."
"Dexter? Like...Dexter's Lab?"
"Pff! Not exactly," Mai snickered, glanced at Zuko, who seemed equally amused.
"Yeea," Zuko slowly agreed. "It's about a serial killer."
Aang's face contorted with discomfort.
"A serial killer who kills killers," Mai was quick to amend. Aang's expression worsened and she attempted once more. "OK, I guess that sounds bad, but...it's a good show."
"Uh-huh."
"This coming from the girl who loves Edgar Allen Poe and Alfred Hitchcock," added Zuko, kissing her on the temple. She shrugged in compliance.
"I'm a Goth – I won't hide it."
"You shouldn't," Aang agreed. "I'm just...not so sure that sorta stuff is my thing."
"Do you play any sports?" Zuko wondered, seeking some kind of common ground for the sake of socialization – Mai had expressed that Zuko needed more friends in his life, specifically males, so Zuko was at least going to show some effort about it.
"Uh, I ran in Track back in High School," Aang noted. "Think I'll probably try out this spring."
"What about golf?"
"Golf?"
"I think it's the most boring sport there is," Mai put in her two cents, "but Zuko can't get enough of it."
"It's all about patience and precision," Zuko defended.
"I've never played it," Aang replied to Zuko's earlier question. "My roommate is into it, though...I think."
"Really?"
"He likes golf video games, and...I definitely have caught him watching it a few times on TV," Aang recollected.
"When the weather's nicer out, I should take you guys out golfing."
"Sokka would love that."
"Great. Let's do that in the spring some time."
"Sure."
Rrrmmm.
[From: Katara]
[Where are you?]
[Sent: 8:37pm]
"Maybe you can get Uncle Iroh to come along, too," Mai suggested.
"Oh, yea, that sounds like a good idea. He hasn't been getting out much lately..."
[To: Katara]
[im with friends. everything ok?]
[Sent: 8:37pm]
"Sorry..." Aang apologized, setting his phone down on the table.
"It's fine," Mai assured. "I don't discriminate against cell phones."
"Heh." Zuko sighed and Mai nudged him playfully.
"I'm used to being with someone who's on call at all times..."
Rrrmmm.
All three glanced at Aang's phone as the screen lit up: [1 New Txt]
Aang bit his lip and Mai and Zuko laughed.
"Go ahead," Zuko insisted. "Could be important."
"Thanks," said Aang with embarrassment as he checked it.
[From: Katara]
[Toph and Jane are having a freaking cat fight and I don't know what to do...]
[Sent: 8:38pm]
Aang took a deep sigh and bobbed his head down, running his hand through his hair.
"What's up?" Mai checked with a hint of concern.
"More drama," Aang grumbled, trying to decide how to approach the situation.
"Your girlfriend, huh?"
"She's causing trouble again."
Mai cleared up Zuko's confusion by briefly explaining: "Aang's girlfriend is being a tool."
"Ah...That's...er...no fun...?"
"Heh. No, it's not..." Aang drummed his finger on the table carefully.
"It's not your fault she's giving other people trouble," Mai advised. "You can't go cleaning up all of her messes."
"Mai's right."
"Yea," whimpered Aang in admittance. "Guess so..."
[To: Katara]
[sorry. that sucks. you should stay outta it.]
[Sent: 8:40pm]
[From: Katara]
[I just wish they'd take it out of our room...]
[Sent: 8:40pm]
Aang was tempted to ask for details – Katara's initial question was implication enough that she wanted his help - but opted to take his acquaintances' advice and stay out of it.
[To: Katara]
[they can be stubborn. just go out. see sokka maybe?]
[Sent: 8:41pm]
Aang powered his phone down and stuck it in his pocket.
"Done with that stuff tonight," he sheepishly announced.
"Cool." Zuko smacked his palms on the table. "Anyone up for some Chinese Checkers?"
- Sunday, December 5th, 2010 -
"Katara?"
Tattatatatattappaptiptaptap. Click.
"Katara."
Click. Clikka-click.
Toph could hear the muffled sound of whatever idiotic pop music her roommate was listening to today and groaned – quite loudly – before brusquely jabbing her finger forth, colliding with a bony surface that felt to her like a shoulder bone.
"Ow!" Skuff. "What?" Katara snipped.
"Christ, maybe if you didn't have to listen to your God damned music so loud you'd hear me."
Katara let out a tired sigh.
"What do you want?" she cut to the chase.
Toph reached her hands up to the back of the her head.
"I can't get this fuckin' thing to hold my bangs up," she explained begrudgingly, waving a hair clip before her, bangs flopped across her eyes.
"Maybe if you washed your hair a little more often, it'd be easier to manage."
"Maybe if my roommate helped me like she usually does, I'd do that."
"Yea? Maybe if my roommate wasn't being such a jerk, I might help..."
"That's real sweet, Sugar-Queen. Ignore the blind person, leave them to fend for themselves."
"Please. Don't even, Toph. Just don't." Whap. That sound was Katara slapping her palms on her legs, a familiar noise when she argued. "Whatever happened to 'I don't need your help,' huh?"
"I don't need your help, I was just asking for it..."
"Oh, really? I'm sorry, I don't recall hearing you 'ask' for anything..."
"Whatever," Toph dismissed, chucking the hair clip to the floor.
"I'm trying to work on a paper, Toph – the one I couldn't do last night because you had to start an argument with Jane."
"Oh, yea. Yea. Because Freckles never starts fights herself, or anything..."
"Toph. Seriously. Can you just leave me alone? I need to get this done. It's due tomorrow."
"I don't get what's so fuckin' hard about helping me with a damned hair clip."
"You're the one who's had a stick up her ass," Katara countered. Wow, pretty blunt for old Sweetness. She had to have been pretty ticked. "And telling me how you 'can pull your own weight,' and whatever...I'm just giving you what you want."
"This is 'cuz I haven't been spending any time with you. That's it, isn't it? Pff. You're so fuckin' needy..."
Tappataptaptiptiptappataptap.
"That's what I thought..." Toph blew out a gust of breath that tossed her bangs around. She grumpily grabbed the strands and tried tucking them behind an ear, but they drooped back down, tickling her face. She couldn't stand this – the back and forth between her and Katara. They'd been like this ever since Thanksgiving break ended, and it was only getting worse. In a brief moment of reflection Toph could see how she had asked for this treatment, but she wasn't going to apologize. Katara would come around and play the syrupy-sweet nice girl sooner or later and try to make amends. She always did. It was...just taking a lot longer than usual this time.
Toph fumbled over her bed, collapsing into her messy sheets. She groped out a hand, feeling the presence of her iPod, and considered for a moment just diving into its ocean of sound, not worrying about practicing her pieces today, and forgetting about the world. A few moments of thought gave way to inner guilt until discipline gut checked her: You need to practice.
She forced herself back up, her thick hair in tangles, and found her winter boots at the base of her bed. Their furry insides were soothing, and she worked them on. Zzzrrriiipp. Zzzrrriiipp. She reached over to the post at the foot of her bed and retrieved her winter coat, sliding into its cozy fabrics. She pulled out the wool mittens in the coat's pockets and covered her hands. These luxuries were reminders of the life she was trying to leave behind, and yet she knew she needed them to go outside. It was maddeningly frustrating.
Rising to her feet, Toph grabbed her walking cane and rushed out the door. In her haste she slammed it behind her without meaning to, but it was—WHAM! Toph jumped from the shock, bumping her shoulder into the wall beside her. It had been the door to her right – the one across the hall from her room – being shoved shut. Toph puffed out another groan in response to what was no-doubt Jane having an attitude after her initial door slamming.
Clack. Creee...
"Hey!" Echoed a voice down the hall – one Toph knew, but not by name. "Keep it down! We're trying to study, here!"
Creee...Clack.
"Ugh..." Toph draped her fur-edged hood over her head, checked to make sure her instrument locker key was in her pocket, and trudged down the stairs.
"Come on, he was wide open!" She slammed her fist onto the countertop, her drop in the verbal bucket being the loudest as everyone around her joined the outcry, all eyes on the massive flatscreen above the bar. She sighed, palm sliding down her face, and turned to the nearest customer, a pudgy mustached man.
"Seriously: I coach high-schoolers who know better than to mess that up," she complained. The man laughed and nodded his head. She was pretty sure he was the father of one of the kids in question, hence the remark.
"Korra!" cried a regular from down the way. "Stop fussin' over that game and give a man his drink, would ya?" The man waved his empty metal mug at her with a playful but impatient demeanor.
"Yea, yea," Korra quelled, grabbing his cup and setting it below the tap he'd started out on.
Korra was a lean, somewhat muscular young woman with the trademark tan skin and bulbous nose that ran in the Kesuk family, with stone-cold sapphire eyes to match.
She topped it off and passed it back to the customer. "There ya are..." She wiped sweat from her brow – it was pretty stuffy in the bar tonight, an abnormally full crowd for a Sunday, but that meant good business. A buzzer followed flurry of gasps and cheers drew her attention back to the TV, where hockey players were celebrating a win.
"Awww, for real?" Korra groaned. She turned back to the customer she'd just served. "See what ya did, Bert? Made me miss that."
"Haha, there she is, slacking off, as always, eh, Bato?"
"You said it, Hakoda. Just like old times..."
Two very familiar men took their seats together a few stools down, both staring at Korra with amused expressions. She frowned at them, hands folded across her chest, but her smirk gave her away.
"Uncle and Uncle," she greeted. "Thorns in my side – just like old times..."
"How are things going, Niece?" asked Uncle Hakoda, the only of the two who was actually a blood relation.
"Still causing trouble?" taunted Bato, Hakoda's best friend. The two were so close that Bato may as well have been his brother. He, too, was a darker-skinned man with a scraggly beard rife with grayed hairs amidst the dark brown.
"Fuck yea," Korra quipped back with snark. "What brings you two geezers out to Toronto, eh?"
"Did you-?" Bato turned to Hakoda with mocking appall. "Geezers? Ouch."
"We hardly deserved that, don't you think?"
"Yea, yea, simmer down. Don't get your Depends in a bunch..." Korra grinned wide, pulling out a pair of mugs from the shelf.
"And again," Bato cried, hands up. "She's brutal."
"Like father like daughter," Hakoda mused.
"What're you two grumpy old men havin' tonight?" Korra inquired.
"Whatever's on tap," Hakoda eased, casting out an arm.
"I'll have mine on the rocks," Bato declared.
Hakoda pointed a thumb to his partner in crime. "I'll have what he's having."
The two chuckled at each other, leaving Korra to wonder if they had already stopped by a different establishment prior to their trip here on her turf. She filled their drinks up, dropping ice in, and firmly placed them down on the counter.
"Drink up, fellas."
"Don't mind if I do."
"Down the hatch."
The two men knocked their tin mugs together and both took large gulps, breathing out with satisfaction as they simultaneously slammed the mugs back down.
"We decided to come hit the city to get our Christmas shopping down nice and early," Hakoda explained. "Thought we'd stop by and say 'hi' to some family while we were in town."
"Stop by and hassle me, more like it," came a sarcastic Korra. "And who's the designated driver, then?"
"The wife," Bato replied, taking another sip. "She's off to go get me something at the moment, didn't want me along. Ruin the surprise, and all."
"Ah."
"Ya know, we got you somethin', too," Hakoda divulged. "Because you're actually going to be there this time. Isn't that right?"
"Heh, well...Ya know...-" Korra shrugged, taken aback by the suddenness of the topic.
"It's been three years since you've been to a Kesuk Christmas," Hakoda pointed out, narrowing his eyes at her. "And it's not like there's a man in your life holding you back."
"Pff. Speakin' of, what's the deal there, eh?" Bato picked. "Sharp young woman like you with no man under her thumb? Seems like a waste."
"That supposed to be a compliment?" Korra retorted. The two stared at her with raised brows, clearly expecting a proper reply. She shook her head and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You two know the deal," she grumbled, hunching over the counter. She glared at them and spoke with self-loathing under her breath. "It's like ya said: just like old times. Everything I touch turns to shit." She slapped her fist down, then poked her index down twice as she concluded. "Always has, always will."
"Hey, hey, now," Hakoda eased, setting down his mug. She was still leaned over the bar, and he pressed his palm over her bicep. "With an attitude like that, everything-..." Korra shrugged him off, uprighting herself.
"I'm not your damned kid, Hakoda. Don't go lecturing me." The two Kesuks locked eyes for a moment of tension while the hockey game continued in the background.
"Fair enough," Hakoda eased, taking a swig while Korra was called off to serve a group of women at he bar's edge.
"I swear," Bato muttered, "her fuse gets shorter every time we see her."
"You might be right," conceded Hakoda with a sigh.
"Maybe she's dealing with a mid-life crisis," Bato theorized.
"She's not old enough for one of those, Pal." Hakoda slapped his friend on the back.
"Eh?"
"She's twenty-seven, Bato."
"Pff. I had a mid-life crisis when I was twenty-five."
"And you've stayed that way ever since."
"Damned right, I have." Bato grinned and raised his metal mug, knocking it with his neighbor's.
- Monday, December 6th, 2010 -
Durrmm. Durrmm. Durrmm. Durrmm.Durrmm. Durrmm. Durrmm.
Jane strummed at her bass carelessly, creating a random string of deep notes. She glared at the sheet music in her lap, her mind too tired to even bother. She'd fucked things up pretty good at the last practice – then again, missing a guitarist probably didn't help things, either.
Suki had managed to get them into a Christmas gig toward the end of the month, just before the end of the semester. They would be performing a few songs as part of a multi-band setlist, but they were a long ways away from even handling just the three songs on their plate properly. She had only just managed to skim through her readings for Tuesday and had wanted to try and polish things up before she got too tired. It seemed she'd underestimated how fatigued she was feeling tonight, unable to focus.
For ten minutes, Jane had been struggling to ignore her cell phone. She'd seen it go off: [1 New Voicemail.] She had no idea who it had been, but it was bothering her. Setting her instrument back into its case, she stuffed it under her bed and whipped out the phone, calling up her voicemail.
[Beep.]
["Oy, Smelly. Iss Sneers."] Jane groaned. This couldn't be good. ["Lissen up, hey. We's got a problem goin' on, and yoose jus' da dame what can fix it up. Ain't exactly been cooperatin' wit' us lately, but we's gonna let dat pass if yoose wisen up an' stop playin' make-pretend witchoose little gang o' chinks."] Chinks? Jane was ticked at the misguided remark, apparently a knock at how her friends were entirely non-Caucasian. ["We both know yoose can't run away forever from da mess you made, Smelly. If yoose need incentive, ya oughta know dat Longshot 'ere wants to see yoose."] Johnny wanted to see her? After days of not returning her calls, acting like she never existed, this was his way of telling her he wanted to see her? What a cowardly asswipe. ["So if dat sounds like-"]
[Click.]
And yet she couldn't drop the matter. She had shut off the voicemail immediately at the thought, speed-dialing Johnny's number immediately. Her heart pounded as she waited for four ring-backs, until a crackling indicated that the phone had been answered.
"Johnny?"
["..."]
"It's Jane..." She was suddenly aching for anything from him. Just the sound of his voice would be enough.
["..."]
"I know you're there - you answered." She couldn't stand being back in this land where he gave her the silent treatment. That nonsense was for everyone else. She was special, she wasn't supposed to deal with that.
["..."]
"I just got Sneers' message. You...wanted to see me?"
For fuck's sake, say something.
["Yea..."]
A nervous laugh sputtered out from Jane at his solemn tone.
"So...So, uh...Is now a good time?"
["Tomorrow."]
"Yea. Yea! That...works, too. When?"
["Eight. Come to my dorm room."]
"Tch. Uh, yea. Sure thing."
[Click.]
She took a deep breath, still holding the phone up to her her own desperation, she set the phone aside on her desk and fell to her pillow, letting her heart-rate slow back down.
And then it hit her: something was going on with the Freedom Fighters. What 'mess' had Sneers been referring to? That could've been a few things, really...Logic dictated that it must've had something to do with the Rough Rhinos and the circumstances surrounding Jet's death. That meant a pretty sticky situation for Smellerbee, and Jane wanted nothing to do with it – but couldn't let go of Johnny. If getting him back and pulling him out of the gang's politics meant wearing the Smellerbee mask again, she was willing to do it.
- Tuesday, December 7th, 2010 -
"Uhhhh," Katara's voice wavered as she stood before the TV, pointing the white remote straight down to the floor with two hands. "How do I-...? Is this-...? Am I doing this right?" she whimpered, slowly waving the device forward and back, watching her character on screen mimic her motions, a golf club in hand.
"Yea, yea. You got it," Aang assured. "Now you just have to follow the directions." Katara blinked at him with wide eyes. "On the screen," he added. She turned her head back and nodded. She took a swing haphazardly, her character whiffing a shot and not hitting the golf ball.
"Bahaha...It helps when you hit it."
"Shut up, Sokka," Katara giggled with embarrassment, gripping the controller tightly and repositioning herself.
"You have to press...-" Aang began, trailing off when he saw her figuring it out on her own. "Just be careful with it, 'cuz it's...-" Katara took a swing, sending the ball careening through the air. It arced wildly to the left, landing in the rough, eliciting her to grimace. "-...really sensitive," Aang finished his thought, exchanging humored expressions with his friend. He rose from his seat on the couch and gave her a pat on the shoulder, taking the Wii remote from her hands.
"It's OK," Aang insisted as Katara plopped down beside her brother in Aero's basement rec room. During this busy time of ramping up for finals, they'd decided to keep things low-key and in an out-of-the-way place. "Now, watch..." He took a practice swing. "See the bar over there?"
"Uh-huh..."
"See, if you swing too hard...-" Aang waled out a hard swing, and the bar overflowed, wobbling to and fro. "-...you get too much spin. That's what happened. But if you do it just right...-" He took a couple more practice swings, getting his bar near to the brim before hitting the ball, following-through with the remote.
["Great shot!"]
"Yea. See?"
"Oh. I get it," Katara concluded as Sokka and Aang changed positions. "I wasn't paying attention before..."
"Heh, that's a first for you, right?" Jane picked, entering the room and leaning over the spine of the couch behind them.
"Where we you?" Katara wondered. "We started golf without you."
"Nah, it's cool," she tossed her hand. "I just had to go to the bathroom. I liked the sword stuff better, anyways," she referred to their previous session a bit earlier.
"For real? I hit that thing perfect," growled Sokka as his ball collided with an intercepting tree's branches, landing in the rough beside its trunk.
"Take a seat," Katara offered, scooting into Aang and tapping the now open space.
Jane stared for a moment of hesitation, scratching her cheek briefly, and shrugged.
"Er, I-...What time is it?"
Aang whipped out his cell phone and replied, "Seven forty."
"Ah, yea..." Jane nodded, her eyes wandering off. "Actually, I need to be somewhere at eight..."
"Oh. You do?"
"Yea, Kat. I've got, like, some co-op project I need to meet someone for. For class."
"Crap. I hate those," Sokka grumbled, handing Katara the remote. "I never get good partners. They always slack off."
"Pff. Tell me about it," Jane sighed, burying her face into the couch's back.
"Speaking of...-" Sokka muttered to himself, tapping his chin.
"OK, well...good luck," Katara bid to Jane. "We'll still be here for a little while if you want to hang out later tonight."
"Mm-hm. Catch you guys later."
"Bye!"
"Peace."
"Later!"
As Jane disappeared and Katara readied her second shot, Sokka smacked himself in the forehead.
"Ah, crap."
"What?" Aang wondered.
"So she just reminded me...I let someone borrow my textbook, and I need it later tonight to get my homework done. Frrrraaaaack."
"Uh...So...Just go get it," Aang chuckled.
"But that means walking. All the way across campus," whined his roommate.
"Sokka, with how you've been eating lately, you could use some exercise," Katara advised with a swing.
"Hardy har."
["Nice on!"]
"How did you do that?" cried her brother in dismay as her ball rolled onto the green. She shrugged n response, seemingly surprised by her own performance. Sokka tightened the laces on his loafers and pushed himself to his feet. "Damn, what was that stuff you had me drink earlier?" he mumbled to Aang, stretching out with a yawn.
"Arnold Palmer," Aang replied. "The Half Iced Tea, Half Lemonade stuff."
"Man," Sokka groaned, leaning back, arms still out. "Remind me next time about how that stuff makes me need to take a piss real quick."
"Haha..."
"So you're leaving, too?" Katara checked.
"Yea, I've gotta go get that book. I'll be back in a bit, though."
"Mmkay."
Jane stared at Longshot's tired face, attempting to piece together the fragments of emotion that were slipping out and decipher what was going on. He hadn't spoken since she had arrived a couple of minutes prior. Laid back in his bed, arms folded over his lean waist, he didn't speak, but then, neither had Jane. She didn't want to talk with Longshot – she wanted to talk with Johnny.
"What's up?" she asked at last, breaking the fragile ice with a gentle nudge.
"It's about the group," Longshot muttered darkly. "They keep insisting that they want you back."
Jane could feel a lump forming in her throat. She thought she was done with all of that, but reflecting on everything that happened, she'd known it wouldn't be quite so simple.
"Why?" she demanded in a quiet tone, hunched over in Johnny's desk chair.
"Because you know things they don't. Things Jet trusted you with."
"So?"
"The Fighters are in some dire straights with the Rhinos. Seems like it has to do with the night Jet died."
Jane's heart skipped a beat as flashes from that evening and the circumstances surrounding it came to mind – things she had chose to forget about.
"I don't-..." She shrugged, giving Longshot her best poker face. "I've got no fuckin' clue, Johnny. I just did what I was told."
"Pretty soon, things are going to come down hard," Longshot explained.
"Fuck 'em!" Jane growled. "Don't care. I don't get why you do."
He took a slow, deep breath, and his face changed. The stoicism gave way to something else: to Johnny.
"It's my responsibility," Johnny echoed his sentiment from a while back. "Some of the Freedom Fighters are innocent kids who just don't know what they're doing. I can't let them get hurt because of what Jet has done."
Jane absorbed the raw intensity in his expression as he conveyed this to her, and suddenly things clicked into place. The Freedom Fighters were more important to him than she was, because he needed to protect them – at least, he thought he did.
"So I'm guessing there's no talking you outta this," Jane realized, running a finger against her eyebrow.
"They need me, Jane. The Freedom Fighters need Longshot." He bumped into her knee with his foot lazily. "And they need you. They need Smellerbee."
"I don't think so," Jane disagreed, shaking her head.
"If we can end all of this crap," Johnny suggested, "we can leave it all behind us."
That certainly gave her pause. Something to consider: coming back to the FF just to disintegrate it. Maybe then she and Johnny could be together again. But something else was nagging at her – something she kept trying to hide from herself. Just as it reared its head within her thoughts, Johnny spoke again.
"Just think about it," Johnny eased her. "I don't need an answer right now. But we'll need on soon. If you can help us with this mess...you can be in good standing with the Fighters again."
"Mm," Jane nodded, her eyes glazed and unfocused.
"It'd be win-win for everyone."
"I'll think about it," Jane dismissed the matter. She gave pause before getting up from the chair and pushing it under the desk. This felt entirely incorrect: in Johnny's room, with him laying on his bed, not able to touch him, not able to be kissed on the shoulder. And yet that nagging feeling hit her again. She threw the idea away. Johnny had made his decision to break things off. He hadn't needed to do that in his patriotic march toward salvation.
"I'll walk you out," Johnny insisted, slipping on a pair of sneakers and following her, much to her chagrin. Again, the awkward tension plagued her, only serving to further remind her of the other, conflicting set of thoughts that went against the feelings she clearly still had for this boy.
She was so occupied with this mental storm that she almost failed to notice a familiar young man leaning against a doorway, a textbook tucked under his arm.
"I know, his last test was such a bitch. Urgh."
"Shit," Jane whispered under her breath, carefully weaving around the distracted Sokka. What was he doing here, in Ignis House? Wasn't this against some...code of his, or something? Entering enemy territory? He was talking with another student – a classmate, it seemed.
"No, I hear ya, man. Well, listen, good luck to ya, glad I help ya out, and...-"
Damnit. They must have been spotted.
"-...I'll see ya at class tomorrow."
Shit-shit-shit-shit...
"Jane? Johnny?"
Jane whirled around, trying to muster a surprised look. "Ohhh, hey. Sokka. Uhhh...Hey."
"Hey..." He stared at her with a suspicious glance, then shifted narrowed eyes over to Johnny. "Aren't you two broken up?" he wondered aloud with a blunt disregard for sensitivity.
They both nodded hurriedly, Jane putting more emphasis into her gesture.
"I was just...-" She fumbled with her hands, not making left or right of how to react.
"Co-op project," Sokka completed her thought, shaking his head slowly with a smirk. "Aahhhh, Freckle-Face. That, uh...-" He waggled his index at her. "-...That was witty. Real cute. Co-op. I get it."
"Sokka, it's not what you think..."
"It's not? 'Cuz what I'm thinkin' is...that you lied straight to my sister's face just a little bit ago."
Jane's face was burning up from the accusation.
"Not so sure she'd appreciate that," Sokka added. "All ya had to do was tell us you were coming to see your boyfriend, I don't get what's so hard about that."
Johnny was shaking his palm in defense.
"He's not my boy-...We're still not...together," Jane huffed out, frustrated by this fact. "I was...just needing to discuss some important stuff with him. And...stuff."
"Stuff and stuff. Sounds pretty important. Like...Freedom Fighter stuff?"
"Y-yea, OK?" Jane burst out, hands pressed into the sides of her head as she groaned. "It's none of your fuckin' business!"
"You're right, it's not. But you lying to my sister is. Are you gettin' deja vu? 'Cuz I feel like we've had this discussion already..."
"Yea, I get it..." Jane's hands fell down to her hips. "I'm sorry. OK?"
"What are you apologizing to me for?"
"What do you want from me?"
"What do I want? I want what Katara wants: for you to stop getting involved with these people." He sighed at Johnny's downtrodden face. "No offense, man," he shrugged. "You seem all right. But Jet? He wasn't. And I'm betting there's more crazy people where he came from."
"Don't fuckin' talk about him like that," Jane growled, receiving an uninterested glance in response.
"Guess I had to have been there to see what a great leader he was," Sokka muttered, adjusting his arm, textbook in tow. "Anyway, I'm going back to see the only other two people in this group who aren't being idiots right now."
"You're not gonna tell her, are you?" Jane wondered as Sokka brushed between them.
"Uh, yea? She deserves to know."
Jane rolled her eyes and quickly caught up to him, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around.
"Sokka..." she pleaded.
"Freckles...?" he came back, unamused.
"Don't tell her."
Sokka's eyelids slid down dubiously.
"Please. I don't want her worrying about me. Seriously, I'm just trying to tie up loose ends, and...and just be done with all of this shit."
"That a fact?"
"Urgh, yes, it's a fact. Stop being such an...ass. Just listen to me."
"Just say what you're gonna say, Jane."
Olive eyes hastily swiveled to the side, and she cast a glance at Johnny, who was staring inquisitively from a distance. She clenched Sokka's shoulders, speaking quickly and quietly.
"They put Johnny in charge of the Freedom Fighters, and...some stuff's going down, and...I just want to get him out of it before the shit hits the fan. I swear, I haven't seen any of them besides him since we broke up. I just need some space to clean this up and get it behind me. Seriously. Katara doesn't need to be worried about this, it's my mess."
Sokka, scratched at his goatee and bit his lip.
"Then you need to keep me filled in."
"What?" Jane let her hands fall off his shoulders.
"Someone has to know what's going on, in case anything happens. I'll take my sister's fury if it comes down to it, and as long as you're straight with me, I'll play along. Deal?"
Jane ran her finger through her hair, pushing her bushy bangs around.
"Yea." She extended the arm and Sokka shook her hand.
"But you've gotta get this sorted before the semester ends," Sokka decided.
"Are you kidding?" hissed Jane.
"Setting a deadline is how you get stuff done," Sokka confidently proclaimed. "If you're serious, and you want to be outta this, then do it before Christmas break."
"Fff..." Jane wiped her nose and shrugged. "Whatever. Fine."
"Hey. Ginger."
"What?"
Sokka wrapped his arms around her in a short embrace that caught her off guard.
"I wanna see you get out of this nonsense, too. All right?"
"Yea."
A/N: The poem at the start isn't quoted from anywhere, I wrote it, intending for it to be a free-verse bit from the mind of Mai.
)