Violet

.

Thirteen-year-old Azula and Ty Lee stood on a mini-golf course under ultraviolet light that made Ty Lee's white bra glow through her shirt. Azula pretended not to be staring at it. With a purple crayon she stole from Ty Lee's purse, Azula marked the scores.

"I need to go," suddenly said Ty Lee. "I need to go."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Azula, stepping forward. She crumpled the score sheet in her fist. "If you run from me again, I will never speak to you again."

"I can't be here with you, like this. I can't be here and not think about kissing you. I don't think we should be friends anymore."

Ty Lee adjusted her purse strap and averted her eyes. She stepped back and began to leave the course.

"You promised to never make me sad!" Azula called after her.

Ty Lee's lip trembled. She slowly forced herself to turn around.

"I don't want you to be sad. I want—"

"What do you want? It's unclear. You're keeping secrets and it's not what good friends do," said Azula, bitter and cold and unforgiving.

Ty Lee took a huge breath and said at last, "I want you. I love you. I love you so much."

Azula stood silent long enough to scare Ty Lee half to death.

Then she stepped forward and fiercely kissed Azula on the lips.

It was definitely worth the countless stolen crayons, stolen lipstick tubes, stolen shirts. It was worth any amount of suffering to be here, with her, kissing her under the black lights.

It was the best moment of Ty Lee's young life.