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Tokka Week 6: 3

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Toph didn't usually look at a calendar. The summer/school year division didn't matter to her, because her parents were from China and used to a nearly year-round school year. She had her mother to remember all the important dates—and harass her about them—and, anyway…

When she was a little girl, stuck in the hospital, she'd had one of those calendars with a different kitten for every month. She'd hated it on principle, because her mother gave it to her—"It's cute, and you're cute!"—but really Toph had a soft spot for kittens. She could never have pets because her mother was allergic, but kittens looked like wonderful, soft things.

Anyway, when she was in the hospital, she had crossed off every day—well, except on the days when she was too full of drugs to move. Then her father had done it for her. She'd always been mad when she woke up and found that time had passed without her to mark it, but her father did it anyway. She kept a running count of how many days she had spent in a hospital bed, hooked up to tubes with too many tests and too many doctors, because she wanted a number. Otherwise the days would have been too unbearable.

When she got out of the hospital, she kept up the habit for a little while, long enough for her mother to buy her another kitten calendar. Then she started to wonder what she was looking forward to. In the hospital, she had just wanted to get home, but home was starting to feel an awful lot like a prison. Her parents never took her to the park anymore. She dimly remembered going to a preschool and a fancy kindergarten—the drugs she'd had to take had messed up her memory of her childhood—but that all ended. She was in the house, all the time, and where else did she have to go?

***

Toph had almost forgotten her father's birthday was coming up, until her mother mentioned it one night when he was working late. Her mother was knitting a scarf; Toph was squinting at a crossword. She wanted to be playing her DS, but she could only get away with that when her father was around. Her mother insisted that such devices were not conducive to good conversation.

Five-letter word for trick: prank.

"So," said her mother, counting the line of stitches, "have you thought about what we should get for your father?"

Toph blinked. "Um." She tried to think of the date, but it was gone—she wasn't even sure what month it was. The only day she cared about lately was Tuesday. Everything else could go to hell.

Eight-letter phrase for "beat keeper": kick drum.

Her mother pursed her lips, but in amusement, not disapproval. "I didn't think so." She clucked and kept knitting. "Well. I think he would appreciate it if we bought him a nice new tie, don't you think?"

Toph put on her best imitation of her mother's smile. "Of course. And maybe a tie clip to go with it?"

Her mother smiled. "I think that would be perfect, darling."

Toph looked down at her crossword.

Seven-letter word for thespian: actress.

***

Katara and Aang were usually too busy making out to spend any time with Sokka, but they did come to band practice now and then. Usually just to make out, but still.

"I thought you guys had a drummer now," said Aang when they got there. He and Katara immediately took Zuko and Mai's favorite make-out spot on the couch. Sokka rolled his eyes  and flopped down in the spinny chair in front of Mai's computer. "One who isn't Mai, I mean."

Sokka put his hands behind his head. "We do. She's pretty good, too." He glanced at his watch. "Huh. Usually she's not this late." Mai raised her eyebrows at him. She and Zuko had not stopped taking the piss out of Sokka since they found out how old Toph was. It wasn't that much of an age difference. Zuko was twenty-two and nearly out of pre-med, but Sokka was just old enough to drink, and Mai was only twenty. Hell, she was as old as Aang.

Sokka turned to Mai's computer so he could tool around with a new song he was working on. He had a melody but no lyrics—he was thinking about asking Mai to write them. She always critiqued his lines—Mai had won prizes for her poetry, even though most of it was bleak enough to make you want to drink yourself into a stupor—but usually Sokka had something to start with.

Eh. It was a catchy tune, anyway.

He couldn't concentrate, though. When she first heard, Katara had grilled him about Toph, and he couldn't answer any of her questions—where does she live? Is she in school? Does she play other instruments?

It wasn't that weird—it wasn't like he and Zuko and Mai were super best friends, after all. They'd met at a show and made friends after a while, but when they weren't playing music, they usually just sat around playing Call of Duty or something. Not having deep discussions about their interests.

And Toph only ever showed up for practice. She was always gone by one in the morning, no exceptions. Sokka had asked her once if she wanted to get snacks sometime, and she hadn't even acknowledged the question. She would've been a tough nut to crack even if they'd met in a normal situation.

But shit could she play, so Sokka hadn't thought about any of that stuff. When Mai had played the drums, they'd had to stop a lot because she got pissed off with her skills, and you couldn't really work as a band without somebody to keep the beat.

And still… it made him feel like a jerk. His band—currently called The Wolf Sharks, for no real reason other than it looked cool on a jacket mockup—was all he thought about these days, because he didn't have much else to do. He had to work all the time to afford school. Maybe Toph was the same way—maybe she'd had a rough life.

"Well, so I'll fix it when she shows up," he muttered. But it was still hard to concentrate.

***

Of course her father's birthday was a Tuesday night. Of course it was. They went out to dinner. Toph's father wore a new suit and his new tie, chosen by Toph at random from the racks when her mother reminded her. Her mother wore a fine blue silk dress; Toph wore an cheongsam of the same color and fabric that her mother had chosen for her. Toph hated it. It was skin-tight, so she couldn't put her arms up over her head or run or do anything, really, but walk behind her mother like a meek little duckling. Her hair was up in a tight braided bun, scented with oil that stung her nose.

But she sat still during the dinner and made polite conversation with the children of her fathers' friends, all of whom stared at her like she was some weird breed of animal. She was sure they laughed at her behind her back because of her glasses, and, for the thousandth time, she wished she could shake her parents until they let her get contacts.

They left at eight sharp, of course, because her father didn't like to be on the roads after dark, and then they sat in the living room while the servants brought out a cake. The cake was delicious, the only high point of the evening. All the while, she watched the grandfather clock in the corner, ticking ever closer to nine.

At nine sharp, she rose from her chair, like she always did, so she could retreat to her room. Her mother, cuddled up against her father's chest, looked over at her. Her words were drowsy from a touch too much wine at dinner and softer than usual. "Oh, do stay, dear. I think we can allow you to stay up a little later, given the occasion."

Toph bit the inside of her cheek. She wanted to lie. But she couldn't leave for an hour anyway—certainly her parents would go to bed on time. They had never let a birthday change their routine before. And that stupid softness in her mother's voice. It tugged at her heart, no matter how much she hated it.

So she smiled that perfect smile again and sat down. "Of course, Mother."

***

At ten, she excused herself, biting the inside of her cheek. Her parents were talking about something or other—stocks, maybe—and it didn't look like they were at all interested in retreating to their bedroom. They had accepted her excuse of tiredness, since she kept the same schedule every day.

"And, after all," she said to the girl in the perfect blue cheongsam that looked back at her from the mirror, "I'm just a weak little girl, aren't I?"

She scowled and pulled the dress off over her head—too roughly. Something ripped inside. The sound was nearly as sweet as the crash of a stand cymbal. Toph set the dress neatly on her dresser—because her mother would scold her if she did anything else—and slumped down on her bed. Did she risk it?

…She didn't have to pass the living room at all on her way out. Her parents would probably go to bed in an hour or two, and they would be too tipsy to think to check on her—they never disturbed her rest.

And Jesus Christ. She needed to do something to get the feel of that dress off her skin.

***

Toph showed up half an hour later than usual, just when Mai was starting to complain.  "Hey, there you are!" said Sokka when he answered the door. His voice was cheerful; it did nothing for the thunderous scowl on her face. "Uh, got some company tonight. This is my sister Katara and her boyfriend Aang."

Toph nodded at both of them and stalked over to the drumkit, sitting down on the chair like it was the only thing that existed. "We gonna do this or what?"

Zuko and Mai untangled themselves, and they got started. It had been about two months now; they were finally playing well enough together to work on their own songs instead of just doing covers to get into a groove.

Aang and Katara hung around until about midnight; the band just kept going.

As usual, at one AM sharp, right around when they were taking a break anyway, Toph got up from the drums. She tucked her sticks in her pocket and nodded at Zuko and Mai, flipped Sokka a two-fingered salute.

"Hey, come on," said Sokka, pushing himself up from the chair. "I know you can't stick around, but lemme walk you home, huh?"

Toph stared at him like she was too confused to say anything. Mai snorted. "Picking 'em young, eh, Sokka?"

Sokka shot her a longsuffering look. In that moment, Toph recovered herself, and she shook her head. "I don't need an escort. In case you haven't noticed, I've made it here and back eight times already. You do what you do. I've gotta go."

Sokka put his hands behind his back. "Hell, it wasn't about that," he said, feeling really sheepish now. Zuko and Mai were staring at him; he could tell they didn't care about Toph beyond anything, as long as she kept showing up. "I just thought you'd want some company."

***

Toph scowled at him. Or at least in his general direction. It was a good thing they didn't use sheet music around here. A thousand nasty responses were already behind her lips. She had plenty of nasty in her tonight—first those kids, and then her parents…

And then a little voice spoke up in the back of her head. How long had it been since she'd spent time with somebody her own age—ish—who wanted her around?

She couldn't remember.

Toph folded her arms over her chest. She wasn't sure how to back down without looking weak, so she kept the nasty tone of voice. "Can't shake you off, can I?" Sokka shrugged, like he was saying it was her decision. How long it had been since anybody had acted like that, either? Toph shrugged, doing her best "I don't care" face. It was a good face. "Sure. Whatever."

She was close enough to see him grin. "Cool."

***

Toph told him a place a few blocks away from her house, across the line that divided the old money from the middle class. She didn't mind looking like a bit of a poser—if he saw where she really lived, he'd never respect her again. And he seemed like he respected her. She'd give him that.

The night was dark and pretty quiet; they weren't in a big bar district, so they didn't have to worry about all the last-call drunks wandering around. Toph had never minded making the walk by herself. With company… she wasn't sure yet.

Sokka had a beat-up old bike he walked beside him; Toph's eyes kept flicking to that, then to the holes in his jeans. She'd thought they were the kind you bought ripped. Apparently not. "So you still live with your parents, right?" said Sokka after a while. He didn't seem to care for the silence.

Toph shrugged. "Yeah." Better not to lie. She'd never remember later, not when her parents pissed her off.

"And they don't care about you going home this late?" There was something odd in his voice—like he was wondering if he needed to be sympathetic or not.

Toph looked down at her clothes, remembered the girl who stared back at her in the mirror when she dressed this way, and almost laughed. He thought she really was a poor kid. Maybe he'd even thought she was a street kid before she told him her fake address. "They know I can take care of myself, that's all." So much for not lying.

"Oh, okay. Guess you've got a job and everything, so they can trust you because of that, huh?"

His voice was almost disinterested, like this was a question he could ask anyone. Her stomach twisted with guilt. He had let her into his life without hesitation, without asking her any questions. And she'd blocked him out as calmly as though this meant nothing to her. It did, it did.

She swallowed; he glanced at her, as though concerned, and Toph threw her head back like nothing could ever matter to her. "Nah, but they've figured out by now that they just gotta deal with it. I always come home, don't I?"

Sokka made a noise that wasn't quite a laugh. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Toph put her hands in her pockets. The words came out before she could think about them, and she couldn't quite decide if she regretted them or not. "What about you?"

Sokka shrugged, almost an imitation of her own. But it wasn't faked; it was just the way he was. He was everything she pretended to be. "My mom died when I was really little, so it's just always been me, my dad, and my sister. I kinda had to step up and take responsibility, you know? I've had two jobs since I started high school, and my dad's always worked late, so he's gone all the time." He paused. "I'm paying for school myself so my sister can have all the money we saved. Not that it really matters. She got a half-ride to the state school."

Toph whistled. She and her parents had not yet begun to discuss college, even though Toph was already technically done with home high school. "You must be proud."

"Eh, she drives me crazy, but at least she's good." He put his hands behind his head. "The band's the only time I ever get to let loose, and… well, not really. You've met Zuko and Mai. They are not really wild partiers."

"I never would have guessed," said Toph, her voice so dry that Sokka laughed. It was a pleasant sort of laugh. Toph had to concentrate to keep from smiling.

***

He left her at what he thought was her apartment building. Toph had never actually seen the place in her life. She sighed and slipped her glasses on, then looked at her watch. Shit. She needed to get home and how.

She ran the last few blocks to her house, not caring how much noise she made. Her parents would be in bed by now, sleeping off their alcohol. She jumped at the trellis and almost missed her grip, but she caught the wood at the last moment and just hung there, panting.

Then she climbed up and through her window, sighing with relief when she shut it.

The light flicked on. Toph froze, partly because she was blinded and partly because she knew what happened next.

She turned, slowly. Her father was standing there, his face forbidding and frozen; her mother was leaning against his side, her face crumpled and tear-stained.

Toph swallowed. She was muddy and sweaty and wearing too much makeup; her parents never would have let her out of the house in these kind of clothes.

Her father just watched her for a minute. Toph felt like shrinking into herself and disappearing. As much as she wanted to fight it, she still felt so guilty she could scream. They were her parents.

"I think we need to have a long talk, you and I," said Toph's father.
Day 1: [link]

Day 2: [link]

Day 4: [link]

Day 5: [link]

Day 6: [link]

Day 7: [link]

AN: I will be finishing this week. Just a couple days late. ;)

I finally have some idea where this is going, so hopefully things will pick up.
© 2012 - 2024 SkysongMA
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