Chapter Text
Before even learning her name, Katara wasn’t sold on the girl in her stats class. It wasn’t because of how she looked (though she looked like a couture skeleton with perfect make-up and acrylic nails that just couldn’t be practical to type with), it was because she showed up in the same shirt Katara was wearing and that was just... Katara wasn’t the kind of person to worry about who wore it better, but being dressed the same invited comparison and...
Well, there was no denying she was beautiful.
Katara refused to stare. This wasn’t high school, and nobody cared. This was college and she was here to get a degree that would get her into med school and she wasn’t going to let some girl who made her messy hair look effortless and probably paid eighty dollars every couple weeks for her nails make her feel inferior. Anyway, Katara was a whiz at math and stats was just math, right? The lecture hall was huge and Katara took notes quietly and didn’t acknowledge when the girl looked at her that first day.
The second day she decided to just study out of the book since there wasn’t a quiz until the following week.
The following week, upon getting her quiz back, Katara realized that they didn’t need to deduct points for poor attendance.
“Hey, you!”
Katara pretended not to hear the stats girl shouting at her.
“Gray duck! From stats!”
Katara’s head turned on a swivel.
“What did you call me?”
A razor-thin smile on red lips greeted her, and Karata realized that the girl had matched the shade of her lipstick exactly to match her cardigan. Katara couldn’t stop herself from narrowing her eyes.
“You’re from Minnesota, aren’t you?” It wasn’t really a question. The girl said it like she already knew, and that would have been creepy as hell, but...
But nothing. It was creepy as hell.
“St. Paul,” Katara said, though she didn’t love that they were talking.
“You’re in pre-med, aren’t you?”
That thin smile again, like she was winning some game Katara didn’t know she was playing.
“I’m Azula, and you are...?”
“Katara.”
“Well, Katara from St. Paul,” Azula showed her teeth and Katara almost wanted to punch them, because this Azula was toying with her somehow. “I think we could help each other a little. I couldn’t help noticing that you also failed the quiz.”
“I got a C-,” Katara corrected.
“Semantics,” Azula sneered, “If you can’t make Phi Beta Kappa, what’s the point?”
Any sane person would have walked away. The perfectionism alone was enough to sink anybody, but there was something unnerving about Azula on top of that. Something about her was vivid and alive and menacing, and Katara couldn’t look away from it. She was like a wolf but with malice. She was like a blizzard.
“Ok,” Katara said, “Fine. Let’s say I agree that we could help each other. What do you want?”
The thing was, Katara kind of hoped that the little arrangement they’d made would fizzle. She didn’t have anything in common with Azula and there was a guy from her gen chem class that Katara would rather work with, so she tried to phone it in as much as her conscience would allow. Azula had a way of forcing Katara to work, though. Her focus was infectious, and she always honed in on Katara’s weaknesses.
They both got 100% on their next quiz, and Azula flashed a white grin when she saw Katara’s paper. It cooled some of Katara’s pride, and she realized with dread that this meant they’d have to work together. She couldn’t beg off making some excuse about thinking she’d do better working with somebody else in pre-med.
No. They’d both aced the damn thing and now they were going to be stuck with each other.
All.
Semester.