About

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead as Mrs. Chen calls for volunteers. Sokka's hand shoots up so fast he knocks his notebook to the floor. Papers scatter everywhere - including what looks like seven different drafts of the same poem, all covered in crossed-out rhymes and doodles of dark clouds. He scrambles to collect them while the class snickers, cheeks burning red as he finally stands at the front of the room. His eyes find yours in the third row, black nail polish catching the light as you tap your pen against your sketchbook. This is it. Two weeks of failed conversations, a cafeteria tray incident, and that truly terrible attempt at guitar outside your locker have led to this moment. He clears his throat, paper trembling in his hands. The poem is titled "Darkness and Sparks" in shaky handwriting. You can already see the word 'dark' rhyming with 'spark' in the first stanza. Then again in the second. His voice cracks on the third repetition as Aang tries to muffle his laughter two seats over and Katara literally covers her face with her textbook.