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Not for the first time, she wondered who her father was.
At fourteen, she was taller than her mother, but skinny. Bony. Muscles weren’t important when it came to bending, just healthy qi. So she’d had just about enough from her mother about how thin she was. Mom was blind, but it was like she couldn’t taste either. Lin Beifong could not stand the food Mom made, no matter how healthy it was supposed to be.
She looked wistfully in the mirror. It wasn’t like she was out of shape at all. Just. Skinny.
She wished, also not for the first time, that she looked more like Katara. Not too tall, not too thin, but strong and soft at the same time. Her hair was long and wavy, and her eyes were so blue. Kya too… they looked so much alike now, though Katara was way older.
But Kya was hardly ever around anymore, not like she’d been when she was little. Kya was always out, running around the city with girls her own age.
Lin could have been out too, except it seemed like she was always training while everybody else was having fun. Today she’d escaped it, because Mom was in a meeting with the Council, but that meant Aang and Katara were also gone. She liked Aang a lot; he was always so nice to her, and always made her feel better, even about her mom and Suyin.
And she could have been with girl friends if only she had any friends, other than Tenzin and Bumi, and yeah Kya. Even though Kya didn’t have time for her anymore.
No, she just had boys hanging around, and they were both ugh! So weird! Tenzin wasn’t so bad, she thought, but he didn’t take a joke very well, and he was always blushing and just being… so strange around her anymore.
Bumi was just weird weird.
Still, it was better to be on Air Temple Island than in Republic City, if she had to be alone for the afternoon. There were books everywhere, and places to hide, and it was quiet. No yelling mother, no snotty sister, no annoying neighbors. She was in Kya’s room; it was a bright, cheerful place, with silk paintings of flowers and birds.
She had a feeling, now, through her feet. Toph had been teaching her to feel the vibrations from the earth to understand earthbending better, and now, she could sense someone approaching. Unfortunately, she wasn’t yet good enough with seismic sense to detect things from a distance, so she only had enough time to straighten up and turn around as Kya slid the door to her room open.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t snooping I’ll leave now,” she said, in a breathless rush.
Kya’s face was blank, like she didn’t understand what she was seeing. Her eyes were red and puffy, as though she’d been crying. She turned suddenly, hiding her face.
“It’s nothing. There’s nothing to see here anyway,” she said, moving to the bed and sitting down heavily on the far side.
Lin was at a loss. She’d never seen Kya cry that she could remember. She stood, frozen, for a minute, and then started to move quietly toward the door.
“No, stay,” Kya said.
Lin stopped, waiting. What was she supposed to do?
“Come sit with me.”
Lin’s stomach jumped. What did Kya want with her? They hardly talked anymore, not since Kya was too old to play running-around games in the courtyard with them. That was about the age that Lin was now, she realized.
She came over, hesitant, and sat next to her, her hands in her lap. She could feel the warmth of Kya’s body near her, and that was strangely appealing, but nervousness kept her stiff.
Kya’s head was down, her long, shining dark hair covering her face.
“Why doesn’t anybody like me?” she asked.
“What do you mean? I like you,” Lin said, puzzled.
“Not like that, Lin.” she sighed. “Like, like me.”
“Oh,” Lin said.
They were silent for a while, as the sunlight poured in through a round window. She watched dust motes gleam in the light, moving slightly in the air.
Kya began to cry again, her body moving slightly with the waves of tears. Lin’s throat tightened in sympathy, and she fought the sting behind her own eyes.
She put an awkward arm around Kya’s shoulders. She was almost as tall as Kya, not the little scrawny kid she’d been, and Lin realized that they weren’t all that different from each other any longer. There was an odd tightness in her chest.
“Nobody gets me,” Kya said, in a choked voice.
Lin didn’t know how to answer this. Nobody understood her either, but this didn’t seem like the time to tell Kya her own troubles.
Then Kya put her arms around Lin, and her head on Lin’s shoulder. Kya was so soft, and her hair smelled so sweet. She was kind and gentle and beautiful. Who could hurt her? Why was she crying like this?
“What happened?”
Kya shook her head.
“If somebody hurt you, I’m gonna hurt them,” Lin said, scowling now. “Who was it?”
Kya’s arms closed just a bit tighter around her, but then she relaxed, and said, with a rueful chuckle, “It’s not worth it, Lin.”
“It is to me! Nobody hurts a friend of mine!” A protective anger flared within her. She stood up, her fists balled, ready to fight.
“Are we still friends, Lin? I haven’t been around very much.”
Lin stalled, the heat in her going out like cold water had been poured on it.
“Uh… I guess so? I mean, you have your friends, and you’re older than me, but I get why…”
Kya snorted. “They don’t understand me either.”
Lin wanted to help, but didn’t know what to ask. She stood there, hands at her side, feeling stupid. It didn’t make sense to her that anyone would treat Kya this way, to make her feel like an outsider. Herself, yes, she could understand that; she was a Beifong, and Mom always said they were hard as rocks. Mushy stuff wasn’t her thing. But Kya?
“You’re the best, though.” Lin said, and then blushed to the roots of her hair.
Kya looked up at her, into her eyes, through that long, beautiful dark hair, and smiled, her father Aang’s crooked smile. She reached out and took Lin’s hand, and pulled her back down to sit with her again.
“You are too,” she said, and her arm went around her a second time, pulling her into a hug.
With anyone else, she would have patted them stiffly on the back, but Kya’s hugs were too good to pass up.
“Do you have to go somewhere?” Kya asked, shyly, which was a strange thing to hear, from the woman Lin always thought was so confident.
“No,” she answered, truthfully.
“I could use a nap, honestly,” Kya said, “but I don’t really feel like being alone. Would you stay?”
Instantly she was almost terrified. But Beifongs are hard, she reminded herself. And Kya was a friend. There was no reason to be scared of her. These anxious, muddy feelings were just too new and strange to process. Maybe she was coming down with something.
“I guess,” she mustered.
Kya laughed. “Don’t make it sound like a punishment! Come on, just snuggle with me for a little bit. Do you mind?”
“No, I guess not,” Lin said, forcing a smile, and moved woodenly to the far side of the bed, sitting and then laying like a plank on her back.
“Lin, come on. We used to take naps together all the time!” Kya was on her side, facing her.
“Yeah, but I was like five years old. And you were only ten, right?”
“So? Did we stop being friends then?”
“No, I guess not,” Lin said again, wishing she could think of something more clever to say.
“Don’t worry, Lin,” Kya assured her. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” She paused, and Lin could feel the change in her breathing and heartbeat. She knew that Kya was remembering who had hurt her.
Mom could do that. Mom could always tell when Lin or Suyin was lying. Could Mom also tell when she was sad or lonely? She’d never said.
She turned herself, rolling onto her side, away from Kya. The round window was open, and a sea breeze picked up and cooled the room. They moved closer together, and Kya now put her arm around Lin’s waist, and it felt good, and safe, and soft. They hadn’t done this since either was a child.
“I guess… I mean, I think we have some things in common,” Lin said, quietly. “Nobody gets me either.”
Kya nuzzled the back of her neck, which raised the hair on Lin's arms.
“Probably we do,” she said. And then, with a deep sigh, “I wish you were just a little bit older.”
“Why?”
Kya didn’t answer.
She heard Kya’s breathing ease, and the sound of the surf outside, calming. Spirits, it was so hard to understand everything.
Maybe it didn’t matter. All of it could wait for later.
This is good the way it is, she thought, here and now.