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Chapter Fifty-Five: Waiting Edit
A voice cuts through his thoughts.
“Welcome, young travelers . . .” He glances up at the elderly woman wearing a golden kimono, her makeup heavy and almost frightening. “Now, who's next?” the fortuneteller asks, her words bearing the tone of an old grandmother. “Don't be shy.”
Sokka doesn’t even pretend to pay attention. A faint smile possibly just beyond his expression, he glances at the girl on the cushion next to him.
She smiles shyly and stands up. “I guess that's me.” He follows her movements as she leaves with the fortuneteller. Sokka tosses another bean curd puff into his mouth.
“Not bad. Not bad. Mm,” Sokka comments, shoving a fistful down his throat and offering the bowl.
“Uh . . . I’m good on puffs.” He refuses them, pushing the bowl away. Rubbing the back of his head self-consciously and feeling the lack of hair—Is she into hair? Maybe I could grow mine out. It’s against the traditions, but, ooh, she liked Jet’s hair. I don’t know!—“So . . .” he asks, his heart pounding just slightly. I wonder, are they talking about me? I hope they’re not. Unless Aunt Wu’s telling Katara that she should like me. His eyes widen. What if she’s telling her that I like her?! Oh this is bad. This is really, really bad. “What do you think they're talking about back there?”
“Boring stuff, I'm sure,” replies Sokka nonchalantly, clearly more concerned with the puffs than with the tension and hormones filling the air by this point.
His eyes are wide as he stares at Sokka; every word Sokka utters rings a bell of alarm in his mind.
“Love . . .”
Love?! What kind of love?! Like love love?!
“. . . who she's going to marry . . .”
I don’t know about that, but . . . oh spirits, please help me . . . marriage?!
“. . . how many babies she's going to have . . .”
He suddenly finds that his hands are shivering. Wait . . . what?! Babies?!
“Yeah, dumb stuff like that . . .” Anxiously nibbling on his fingernails, he glances from side to side nervously; he can hear his heart racing, torn between knowing what she did and being a good person.
I have to find out what they’re talking about! I don’t want to eavesdrop . . . and what if they catch me? It’ll be weird if they think I’m interested in . . . in girl stuff!
He swallows, one hand fretfully plucking imaginary strings in the air as if he were playing a lyre.
No, that’s it. I have to know and that’s that! But I have to play cool. Yeah. I have to play totally cool.
“Well,” he announces in the most bored voice he can muster, “I've got to find a bathroom!”
No, he thinks as he scurries off, I’ve got to find a good place to eavesdrop.
I've been meaning to do this scene so badly since the very beginning.
"He swallows, one hand fretfully plucking imaginary strings in the air as if he were playing a lyre." -> =o It's foreshadowing!
"“Boring stuff, I'm sure,” replies Sokka nonchalantly, clearly more concerned with the puffs than with the tension and hormones filling the air by this point." -> Oh, all those hormones. I kept thinking about that scene in the first Transformers movie, and if you've seen it, you know what I mean.
That's what Aang was thinking with all of those funny expressions.
"He suddenly finds that his hands are shivering. Wait . . . what?! Babies?!" -> Aang isn't quite ready to think about Cloudbabies . . .
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