The sun peeked out behind the clouds just as the big yellow bus pulled up next to the aging school, bricks cracked with age, gum wads blackened on the pavement, and ancient graffiti too old to read adorning the grounds. Katara sighed as she stepped off the bus just after Jet and pushed a lock of brown hair behind her ear. She slung her blue backpack on her shoulders and let one hand drift into the pocket of her jeans.

“Are you alright?” A girl appeared before Katara, startling the freshman.

“I-I don’t know where I’m supposed to go. I’m new,” Katara stumbled over her words and smiled sheepishly. The other girl shook her head with a grin of her own, short brown hair swinging just above shoulders clad in a green shirt.

“Don’t worry. That’s why I’m here,” the girl said as she started walking with Katara by her side to the main entrance of the school, marked by two glass doors, dying potted plants on either side. “My name’s Suki. I’m part of the student council.”

“I’m Katara,” she replied, “Uh, I just moved here.” Katara glanced to the left and saw the boy who had been sitting in the seat next to her, but she still did not have a clear view of his face, considering the boy was walking away from her and Suki.

Suki followed Katara’s line of sight with a frown, “You’re looking at him?”

Katara snapped out of her gaze and looked to Suki, “Oh, I just sat next to him on the bus. I don’t know who he is.” She shook her head as the two girls passed through the open door into the school. As she viewed the main lobby of the school, Katara was taken aback. At her old school, there had been so many people that she was unable to move without stepping on someone or something. Here … so much space was available that both she and Suki could walk side by side with room to spare for another person. Of course, the usual social groups teenagers were divided into still existed, but the number of students compared to her old school seemed to have been cut in half.

Suki nudged the freshman, “You okay? You’re staring at everything.”

A small blush stained Katara’s olive cheeks, “Sorry.”

“So many people?” Suki guessed.

Katara shook her head, “So few. How many people go to this school?”

Suki shrugged and waved to a few girls standing next to a row of the blue lockers; she focused back on Katara, answering, “I don’t know. Six hundred, maybe?”

“Wow,” Katara muttered. She slowed her pace to avoid being pelted in the head with a foam football thrown by some immature-looking boy, “In my old school, there were at least two thousand.”

“Was that at a high school?” questioned Suki. She turned, leading them both down a slightly congested hallway, “Or were you still in middle school?”

“Middle school, but the high school was even bigger,” Katara explained. She glanced at the numbers on the lockers, noting the pair had just passed 145. Her locker was 678. “Suki, who-who was that guy this morning?”

“The one you were gawking at?” Suki replied in a flat voice, forcing Katara to shrug, showing her embarrassment. “That was Zuko.”

“Is he a jerk or something?” asked Katara; she self-consciously looked over her shoulder, just in case Zuko was standing right behind them.

Suki shrugged in a clearly unsure way, “I don’t know. I’ve never really talked to him. But no one really likes him, except for Jin, but she’s gone out with every guy in the school. Anyways, Zuko’s just … he thinks anyone who isn’t him isn’t worthy of him.”

Katara nodded, “I know the type.” She turned her gaze to the lockers. Somehow the numbers had jumped from 200 to 600. Katara looked at Suki, “My locker’s up here. I’ve got it. Thanks.”

Suki smiled, “It’s what I’m here for. I’ll see you around.” She walked past Katara and turned a corner.

Katara kept moving down the hall, watching the locker numbers as if the metal nameplates would suddenly change. A few girls laden with heavy black make-up passed, one of them glancing at Katara momentarily, but resumed conversation with her friends. Along the wall, five boys clad in soccer jerseys stood, gazing over the images of some beat-up magazine. Squinting her eyes to see further down the hallway, the freshman found sight of her locker, and her pace increased; the girl had nearly reached the metal contraption, but she stumbled over one of her slightly too-large flip-flops and went flying headlong into the vintage tiled floor.

Or at least she would have gone flying headlong into the vintage tiled floor if it had not been for the two strong arms looping under her own, so that only the freshman’s knees banged into the floor. But Katara could barely feel the pain as she looked up to her rescuer. He looked older than her, though not by too much. The girl held in a gasp, but her eyes widened considerably as the disfiguring scar colored in red hues that engulfed half of the older boy’s face drew her attention.

“You alright?” the boy asked in a voice that made Katara’s cheeks heat up as he helped the freshman to her feet.

“Y-yeah,” she answered weakly. Tearing her gaze away from the scar, Katara glanced at the rest of the boy, taking in the black leather jacket over black and red layer t-shirts, dark jeans, and some black boots. Katara could just imagine his muscles through the jacket … wait, what was she saying? She didn't even know who the guy was and she was fantasizing about him?

The boy glanced at her and looked as though he was about to say something, but instead he rolled his eyes and walked straight past Katara. The girl watched his back and realization hit her: That was Zuko. Her gaze followed him until he rounded the corner, until the off-white bricks blocked her view.

Katara turned and stepped up to her locker, her mind replaying the past two minutes of her life over and over again. A smile found its way onto her face and a few unsuppressed giggles escaped from her mouth. She heard a scoff from behind her back and glanced over her shoulder to see Jet.

The sophomore ambled over to the set of lockers placed along the wall and leaned up against them, “If I were you, I wouldn’t be so impressed by Zuko.”

Katara blushed, “I-I wasn’t impressed.”

Jet smiled, showing all of his teeth, “I can tell. But I don’t think you’d want to get a bad reputation by hanging around Zuko.”

Shaking her head, Katara retorted, “I wasn’t hanging around him. But has he done something wrong?”

Jet shrugged, “Well, have you ever heard of Ozai Wyght?” He pulled a pack of gum from his pocket and offered her a piece.

Katara accepted and popped the spearmint gum in her mouth before shaking her head, “Should I have?”

Jet stuck a piece of gum in his mouth before sticking the pack back into his pocket, “Ozai is a state senator, gonna run for governor next year, but everyone knows he’s a lying, cheating, scumbag. And guess who his son is.”

“Zuko?” Katara offered in quiet voice after glancing over her shoulder to make sure Zuko hadn’t magically reappeared.

Jet nodded once, “Like father, like son,” he spoke. He pushed away from the lockers, “I know it’s cliché,” he shrugged, “but it fits.” He gave Katara one last smile before departing down the hallway.