Small sobs could be heard coming from somewhere behind me. Even though my mother and Prim were both helping me get ready for the dance, something told me the sniffling was only coming from the elder Everdeen.
"Oh Katniss, you've grown up so fast…" She says, her voice catching somewhere in the middle of her sentence. A pair of hands untangle themselves from my hair and I hear the soft rustle of a tissue being pulled out of its box. "I'm so proud of you, dear."
I sigh, "Mom, it's really not that big. In the grand scheme of things, today's just like any other day. A bunch of school, then here's this little thing called 'Prom', but hey I'll be off to university soon. You should save your tears for the graduation ceremony. I know I'll be."
"You could really try being a little more sympathetic," Prim comments. As much as I hate to admit, my influences on her as an older sibling in conjunction with her teenage years has made its mark on Prim's formerly kind personality. She still radiates just as much as she used to, but her words occasionally drip with sassy remarks. I stick a tongue out in her general direction when she leans over to examine me from the front. "The dress does look a little better though."
My mother finishes securing loose strands of my hair with bobby pins and finalizes everything with hairspray. She holds a hand mirror in front of my face, still preoccupied with scanning my scalp for any flyaways. I hold the mirror at an angle and look back at my hair.
"If I had known you were going to do so much, I could have just gone to Cinna's to spare you the trouble," I say guiltily. I glance up at an analog clock that reads 2:46 PM, "Honestly Mom, you didn't have to your entire morning shift off just for this."
"I'm sure you can still stop by to see him. I bet he'll be able to help you with your make up too." Prim perks up at the prospect of another trip to Cinna.
"Can I go too, Mom?"
"Maybe some other time honey. You're not even going anywhere tonight," she replies. She turns toward me, analyzing my hair from the front, "I need to leave for work soon, but make sure you drop Prim off at the Hawthorne's, do you hear me? Hazelle told me Rory had a biology project to work on with Prim." I nod in understanding.
"Thanks for doing my hair and buying the dress for me, really. I'll try to make the most of tonight," I stand up and give my mother a quick hug before seeing her off.
"Sure you will." Prim mutters under her breath as our mother leaves the room.
"Shut it. Why do you guys even have a half day anyway?"
"You seniors may be done with high school, but some of the underclassmen were invited to prom as well. Clearly the board realized this and gave us a half day for the occasion."
Our district isn't particularly known for having school breaks, but I don't bother bringing that up.
"So can we go see Cinna today?"
"I'm going but you heard Mom, I need to take you to Rory's."
"Fine. Give me 10 minutes," she sighs, leaving the bathroom to go and pack her backpack.
I smile and head downstairs, grabbing my keys from the small hooks by the front door. I scanned the closet and grab two pairs of shoes, a pair of white heels and a much more comfortable set of black flats. I slip my feet into the latter pair and head toward the garage, but I stop by the decorative mirror hanging in the foyer to inspect my hair once more. Sometime near the end of April, my mother took me to a hair salon she heard about at the hospital she works at. It was certainly strange, seeing her put effort into looking good again, but I suppose she was finally rising out of that puddle of depression she fell face-first into when my father died. It was a nice change, seeing smiles on her face instead of the catatonic stare that used to plague her eyes. Because it was a newer salon, she got a coupon for a "quick touchup", so she suggested to spend the short-lived coupon on me.
"Quick touchup" couldn't have been more misleading.
I don't know how they managed to work on my appearance within the confines of such a small business, but in an instant, three people were flitting around me, asking for personal preferences in hair styles, textures, colors, and accessories ranging from bows to ribbons to feathers. I had skirted my way around most of the questions, saying a simple trim and perhaps a layer of bangs across my forehead would be just fine. The shock on their faces made me wonder if I had accidentally misspoke, as if I requested to have my skin dyed hot pink. Such a simple hairstyle was not something the three of them were used to.
They had called over another stylist, who had just finished another client's transaction, and he set to work almost immediately. He, along with the male in the trio of stylists, briefly washed my hair and then set to work at evening out all the jagged ends that I've accumulated from years of cutting my own hair.
"Are you in high school?" He asked. I had glanced up to look at his face, and immediately recognized him as Cinna Marks, the stylist whose face was pasted on the flyers plastered over store windows throughout the entire town.
I attempted to nod but realized work is being done on my hair, so I opted for a brief "Yes."
"Do you go to Panem Academy?"
There really aren't that many other schools around, but I grunted another yes.
"I see. Your prom is coming up isn't it? No, Flavius, not those. Use the other pair of scissors."
I sighed, of course this would be the rave in beauty salons across the country. "Yeah, but before you ask, no. I am not going with anyone."
"Feisty aren't you? Well, we have special deals for every Friday in May, so if your prom falls on one of those dates, feel free to stop by again."
"Thanks." I was instructed to turn my head as Cinna inspected my hair. In that brief moment, something had caught my eye in a room further back, something I didn't expect to see in a mere hair salon: full-body mannequins. They were cluttered all about, some even leaning on others, but despite their poor organization, it was clear that the clothing they sported was tailored with great care. Some of the mannequins had broader shoulders donning silk suits, while others with smaller physiques were adorned with in glimmering dresses and the occasional necklace or pair of shoes.
"You can turn your head back now," the other man (Flavius?) instructed. I complied, but not before Cinna had a chance to follow my curious gaze.
"Ah. I was a fashion designer in another life," he told me. "I still have a sewing machine and extra dress material, but it's not nearly enough for a business. Not yet, at least."
I thought about the dress my mother purchased on my behalf. I liked it, but she had told me that there weren't any in my size, so she purchased something bigger in hopes that I would miraculously fit by the time prom rolled around. The lavender dress looked magnificent when I first saw it, but after slipping in to the smooth fabric, I could tell many adjustments had to be made. The bust was slightly too large and somewhat uneven and skirt that consisted of translucent material veered uncomfortable close to being almost completely transparent. I needed an underskirt of some sort, but no one in my family was in any position to make drastic changes to anything that was tailored.
"Do you think you could fix my dress?" The words were out before I was able to stop them, and I could tell by the sudden lack of hands fiddling in my hair that it was a question I shouldn't have asked. Flavius's hairdryer blows lazily in one spot, his fingers frozen in my locks.
"Sorry I shouldn't have asked that," I quickly stammered, looking down. I feel the slow movement of uneasy fingers in my hair again, but Cinna still remained silent. Too silent. I risked a glance into the mirror in front of me, where I saw Cinna flipping through a book on a counter somewhere behind me. He occasionally glanced up at a calendar pinned to the wall, and walked back in a matter of moments.
"I'll see what I can do, I have a couple things to tend to this week and springtime weekends are popular for weddings, but do you think you can come in on May 14th? Before school, if it's not too much trouble. I should have some extra hours to work before the prom rush comes in."
Just one week before our own.
"Okay." He handed me a sheet of paper with an empty size chart and an incomplete diagram of a generic female figure. Lines and letters were strewn across the page in every which way, and a cold sweat ran down my back as I struggled to make sense of it all. Maybe it would have been better if I said nothing.
I'm jerked out of my memories at the sound of Prim coming down the stairs, backpack and textbook in hand. I open the door to the garage and hop into the driver's seat of my car. Prim hands me her belongings as she sits down in her seat and murmurs a quick thanks as I give them back to her.
"So who's taking me back home?" She asks once we hit the main road.
I glance to my left as I switch lanes and then turn my attention back to Prim, "I'll talk to Mrs. Hawthorne and work something out. I think Haymitch will be taking pictures with us at Finnick's, but Effie should still be lounging around in our neighborhood if you need a ride early."
I turn in to Gale's subdivision I park along the curb in front of Gale's house and snag my keys. I hop out of the car and lead Prim up to their front door.
-ding dong-
"Katniss! Primrose!" Hazelle greets the two of us with warm hugs, "Come in, come in! I just baked some treats for the boys, so feel free to have some." We nod our thanks and she quickly hurries off into the kitchen after the oven suddenly beeps. I hesitate momentarily before following her to ask if she's able to drive Prim home. I sigh in relief when she responds with a smile and a yes.
"Okay Prim, make sure your phone is on and charged. If you need anything from me, just send me a text or a call and I'll try to get to you as soon as I can. Unfortunately I'll be carpooling with a friend to the dance, and my car will be at Finnick's. It might take me a while, but I'll come." I bend down to kiss her on the forehead and then turn toward the door, "Stay safe, stay in touch, and don't eat too much of their food."
I open their wooden door and immediately frown at the darkening sky. I slide back in the car and retrieve an umbrella from the center console, just in case it begins to rain, and mentally plan a route to Cinna's salon.
"The sky looks pretty nasty, doesn't it?" he says as he applies foundation to my face while one of his assistants attempt to work with the remains of my chewed up fingernails after just finishing a quick pedicure.
"Tell me about it! So much for outdoor pictures," I joke, earning a small chuckle.
"Are you excited for tonight?" He points the handle of his brush toward two girls with varsity jackets on the backs of their chairs, "Those two have been here since noon, and they seem pretty pumped." I recognize the colors on the jackets – white and red – and I realize they must be my classmates at Panem Academy. The two figures on the adjacent seats were chatting at a million miles per hour, clearly engrossed in a conversation about the dance tonight.
"Yeah I'm definitely not that excited. Why were they here for so long anyway?" I close my eyes as Cinna carefully paints eyeliner and eyeshadow onto my lids.
"They wanted jewels."
"For their dresses? Or do you mean jewelry…?"
"No and no, they wanted a net of jewels wrapped up in their hair. They were willing to pay for it, they had the gemstones with them, and I knew I could do it but that was certainly overkill." He sighs and lowers his voice, "Those two were painful to work with. They wanted to bleach their hair as well, somehow Portia and I worked it all out. So far, they've dished over quite the sum of money, but you should have seen their request for the makeup."
I glance over at the drying hoods atop their heads and squint, "You're telling me there are rubies and emeralds somewhere under those things?" Cinna nods and steps back to analyze my face, tilting my chin in one direction then the next.
"Yeah, weird isn't it? Alright, you should be good to go. I applied waterproof mascara and eyeliner by the way, because I know you'll get so emotional today." I can't tell if he's being sarcastic, but I'm not one to criticize Cinna's makeup expertise.
"Thanks for everything," I say as he nods before walking away. I turn my attention toward the woman who just finished applying a clear top coat to my French manicure and give her my card for the transaction.
I walk out of the salon and am pleasantly surprised to find that not a single drop of water had made it to the ground. I walk down the street, twirling my umbrella, and pass by a number of local stores; small businesses seem to be popular in this part of town. One of Haymitch's old friends, Beetee, opened an electronics store not too far from Cinna's salon, and the old drunk thoughtfully purchased an mp3 player on May 8th, just for me. It was a pretty shade of pine green, a "special edition" version according to Beetee, but something tells me it was more than just a device manufactured in some factory far, far away.
I lounge around in my car, waiting for my manicure to dry. Waiting for 4:30 to come. Waiting for a text from a friend. Waiting for anything at all, really. My phone suddenly hums and I fish it out of my purse, glancing at the illuminated screen.
MADGE U.: What's Finnick's address?
I text a quick reply, and as the message is sending, I glance at the time.
4:26 PM
Good enough. I begin the drive to Finnick's huge mansion and eventually park my car somewhere on their monstrous driveway.
A number of people have gathered themselves inside Finnick's mansion, most of which I can only assume are family friends. A throng of teenagers cover the sandstone tiles in the kitchen, and a slightly larger group of adults chatter amongst themselves near the bar.
"What's going on here?" I ask as Finnick takes my peacoat.
"Oh. My mom's firm is having a dinner party later," he says.
"And the kids?"
"Yeah she thought it would be a good idea to tell her employees their children could take pictures here," he shrugs. "Most of them go to Capitol High. By the looks of things, you'd think we rented out the place. Jo's somewhere in kitchen eating food, but I hear she invited some friends as well. Make yourself at home, Katniss."
I try my best to comply, but my four bedroom, two-story house won't ever come close to the layout of Finnick's. The pale yellow walls are accented with photographs, paintings, and the occasional wall ornament. Wooden columns support the walkway across the second story, and directly across from the front door is a wall almost entirely made of glass. The panes easily scale 25 feet off the ground, where they eventually slope into various stained glass patterns near the top. I glance at the pea green and pale yellow couches in front of the fireplace and take a seat in them, turning my head and body to view the vast forest that envelopes the base of the hill.
As if on a hidden cue, a number of the dolled up teenagers shuffle their way over to the stairs, chatting excitedly. A ring of adults and the occasional younger sibling form a small semicircle from the base of the marble staircase and begin snapping a series of pictures. The group first smiled for a 'normal' picture, and then distorted their faces in every which way possible for a 'goofy' one. One of them mentions a limousine, and then as suddenly as they arrived, they all file out of the door and down to what I can only presume to be their ride to Capitol High's prom. The adults return to their idly chatter on and around bar stools, and I divert my gaze back to the large window.
I feel a cushion sink next to me and I turn my head to see Finnick sitting in the space next to me, leaning a little bit too close for comfort.
"Who's the lucky guy?" He asks, poking me in the elbow with his finger.
I smack his arm with the back of my hand and scowl, turning back toward the window, "Don't kid yourself, I'm going solo. We already went over this."
"Well maybe you snagged a guy sometime during the week. How would I know?" I roll my eyes and let the conversation subside. He pouts and then stands up to get something. I resume staring back out the window and soon feel the couch sink again.
"So who's your date, Finnick?" I ask after a couple minutes, glancing sideways at his hunched figure. His elbows rested on his knees, supporting the weight of his body while leaving his hands free to fiddle with a small plastic box containing a small mess of flowers and ribbons. The box stops moving and he looks back at the front door.
"Annie Cresta," he says. I turn my body toward him, giving him full view of my confused expression, "She's home schooled; she doesn't attend Panem Academy."
"What's she like?"
"Annie…? I don't even know where to begin." Finnick replies, his face relaxes into a blank expression as he tries to think of words to say. His wandering eyes freeze on a window near the front door, and his features morph into a grin that threaten to split his face in half. "I might have to get back to you on that."
I follow his eyes and spot a girl carrying an emerald green handbag while cradling the bony hand of a much older woman on the crook of her elbow. As she steps inside, her chestnut hair almost seems to shine red in the fluorescent light. The older woman, who's shorter than Annie by almost a full head, unhooks herself from Annie's elbow and waves to Finnick. Finnick thrusts the plastic box holding the corsage and boutonnière into my hand and whispers a quick "Hold this, Katniss" before running up to Annie and embracing her tightly. His white tuxedo easily muffles her laughter, and I can't prevent a small grin from spreading on my own face. He eventually steps back to get a good look at her. She's wearing a chromatic dress that ripples between turquoise, cerulean, and indigo hues. The smile on her face is mirrored by Finnick, and it's easy to see that the two are simply in love.
I glance over at the elderly woman who had waddled some distance away during all this and had begun to fish through her leather bag for something. She finds it, takes a quick picture of the moment with a black DSLR camera, and then turns her head to look at me. The wrinkles on her face pinch together as a warm smile spreads on her lips, and she waves me over as well. Finnick and Annie turn their heads toward me, and he quickly begins the introductions.
"Annie, this is Katniss. She's in my physics class at Panem Academy," he declares while motioning to me. Annie holds her hand out and we shake, exchanging a quick but friendly series of greetings.
"And this," he turns toward Annie's guest, "is Mags. She's Annie's caretaker, but they're not related by blood."
I hold out my hand toward her and worry that any sudden grip might shatter her fragile bones, but I almost gasp at the vigor in her own shake. I had severely underestimated her. Mags' eyes twinkle in realization, and I breathe an uneasy laugh as I massage my knuckles behind my back. She turns toward Annie and mumbles something I can't quite catch. Annie's candy apple green eyes widen a fraction of an inch and she turns toward Finnick. He smiles and then looks at me. What did I do this time?
"Mags wants to take some pictures," Finnick starts, glancing down at my hands. I look down and realize I'm still holding the small plastic box. I fumble with the lid and hold out the two bundle of flowers and watch as the trio walks over to another section of the mansion to take pictures near a huge painting of a greenhouse.
"Hey brainless," I turn around at the voice and see Johanna Mason's signature smirk. Before I can blurt out a sarcastic remark about her dresses as of late, she cuts me off.
"Yeah I know I've had some nasty fallouts at homecoming, but this dress is probably one of the better ones," She spins in a small circle and then stops to look at me, "Nice face, by the way. Did Cinna do it?"
I nod as Johanna walks over to one of the green armchairs. I sit on a square hassock and turn my attention toward her.
"Oh yeah, I hope you don't mind that I invited one of my friends to dinner with us," Johanna says.
"No, not at all. What's their name?"
"Clove Newton. I met her at the fall Renaissance Fair while I was working at an axe-throwing booth. She was manning the knife-throwing station and that's when I found out she went to our school. She's one of the newer kids though, she just transferred for this semester," Johanna pauses and adds, "Believe me though, she's absolutely wicked with those things. I'll have to show you later."
I nod in agreement and make a mental note not to underestimate whoever this Clove person is. No normal human being would be able to earn a compliment out of Johanna Mason. I glance back down at the plastic box and read the receipt taped to the bottom.
Subtotal: $345.00
Total: $370.11
I've known Finnick for some time, and I vividly recall that one time his parents bought a lottery ticket at his request when he was just fourteen years old. Somehow, through teenage Finnick's frantic coin scratching, the Odair's managed to win the jackpot. I guess they must have given him a fair share of the money. I can feel Johanna's curious glances, but all she whispers is a quiet "damn, Finn".
"So who will be sitting with us?" I ask, trying to form a list of participants in my mind.
"You, me, your friend Madge, Finnick, his girl, Clove, her man,…maybe one of Clove's friends, I don't really know."
"Johanna, you do realize these tables seat twelve people, right?"
She beams at me, "Of course. Empty seats just means more table space for me. I can sit away from all you nerds and there'll be more room for my food. It's perfect!" Her smile fades, "In all seriousness though, a few empty chairs won't hurt anyone, right?" Before I have a chance to respond, a deep male voice cuts me off.
"Hey Katniss and Johanna, come and join us for the group picture!" I turn around and see Finnick waving us over from an ornate marble staircase. I've only been inside Finnick's mansion once or twice before. The interior is flawless; I know that his mother is an interior designer and architect but I can only assume that she played a heavy part in the décor. On one of the higher steps is a girl sporting a pair of midnight blue stilettos to make up for her otherwise short stature. I wouldn't recommend the shoes to anyone else her size, but her small, dark eyes and the slight smirk she sports on her face makes me reconsider having any negative opinion I have about her choice of attire. Next to her is a slightly taller man who would easily tower over her if he wore 4-inch heels as well. Madge must have stepped inside while I was talking to Finnick or Johanna, but she's there, right above Clove.
"The one with the stilettos is Clove, in case it wasn't obvious," Johanna whispers before she walks past me.
Annie and Finnick follow suit, and I'm lost in my own thoughts for a moment too long.
"Get up there, sweetheart," I hear as a chilly hand presses against my back, pushing me forward. I turn around and frown at Haymitch, and especially at the scotch on the rocks in his palm, but say nothing as I step up. He must have arrived sometime through my day dreaming, but my thoughts were interrupted by small bursts of white light, and I reflexively plastered a grin on my face.
I massage my cheeks after smiling through so many camera flashes (I could swear more adults joined the paparazzi for no reason) and wander over to the granite island in the middle of their heavily furnished kitchen. Sometime during our pictures, the group of kids from Capitol High left to go to their own dance, leaving the vast array of snacks at the mercy of my growing appetite. The entire island was covered from end to end, not just with food, but plates, silverware, metal tongs, flower bouquets, and even some lit candles that smelled like citrus. I grab plastic plate and gather an assortment of crackers, cheese, and small fruits as I walk around the house, basking in its architectural glory. I briefly remember seeing floorplans and other schematics in my dad's old journal during the days when he would show me bits and pieces of his childhood. I find a remote part of the house that has windows spanning across two of its four walls, providing a nice view of the gray pond in the middle of the neighborhood. Gray. A stormy blue-gray accented by many shimmers in its rippling surface.
"Hey Katniss!" The greeting surfaces without any warning, causing me to inhale an entire grape and completely abandon all thoughts about my father and our mutual eye color.
"H-hey Ma…adge," I grunt through a short series of coughs. "Sorry. Grape," I continue after swallowing hard.
"Ah. Well, Finnick told me to tell you that the limousine will be here in around ten minutes," she says, glancing up at the clock. My eyes follow her gaze up the beige wall and onto the patterned clockface.
5:25 PM
"Thanks for telling me, I'll see you in a bit," I say, stuffing the rest of the snacks into my mouth while walking toward the front door. I grab my tan peacoat from the closet and almost manage to make it outside.
"Trying to get a head start?" Johanna asks from a distance away. Annie and Finnick are standing right by her, engaged in a conversation that she just recently left.
I roll my eyes, "Yeah just going for a road trip all the way to California, save some of the dessert for me when I get back." I change my tone to a more serious one, "No actually I'm just heading out to grab my shoes. These heels are killing me."
"Were you just wearing them for the pictures?"
I grin before turning around and opening the door.
Our entourage of teenagers soon pulls up in the circular road in front of the banquet hall, joining a series of other limousines and the occasional van. Even after spending four years at this private institution, the wealth of the students (or rather, their families) never ceases to amaze me.
"Are you excited?" Madge asks as the two of us step out of the pearly limousine.
"Not particularly, no."
"Try to make the most of it then," she says while waiting for the last of our party to close their limousine doors. The glossy car drives off with a quiet hum, and all seven of us (Clove's friend is nowhere to be seen) walk into the lobby in a single sloppy line. The lobby is huge and although most of the seats were already occupied by couples, Johanna manages to sprawl herself across one of the larger L-shaped couches near the middle. A tall, lanky male scowls at her for taking up so much room, and she replies with an extended arm and a raised middle finger. Madge had wandered near the refreshments, and Finnick began introducing Annie to some of his teammates. I recognize almost no one in the sea of faces, other than Johanna's smirk atop a white seat cushion, and realize I'm doomed to spend the next few minutes with her. My attempt at sitting down on the end of the couch is met with a pointy red heel to my upper thigh.
"This couch is mine," she calls from the other end. She shifts her right arm so that her hand props up her head, and I can swear her smirk became slightly more cunning.
"Johanna you're a real piece of work," I sigh. I settle for sitting on an armrest just out of reach of her crimson pumps. The swarm of tuxedos and shiny fabric quiets down for a moment, and I realize someone near the front is making an announcement.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen of Panem Academy! Welcome to your senior prom! I am Plutarch Heavensbee, and I will be speaking on behalf of Headmaster Snow today, for he has fallen ill." His long introduction lost the interest of a quarter of the audience, and noise and chatter slowly builds up around me. Plutarch attempts to regain their attention with a series of coughs, but continues anyway.
"May I have your attention for a minute, please! The tables will be set up at various locations and it will be your responsibility to…" His voice is tuned out by the excited chatter, but I have a feeling his sentence will finish with "form your own groups". Another cough, and another brief silence from the crowd.
"As I was saying. There should be just enough tables for all of you, and space is extremely limited." At these words, the crowd groans and grumbles. I glance down at Johanna to see her smirk transforming into a frown. So much for her free food.
"The doors will open precisely sixty seconds from now, and the buffet table quick to follow. At around 7:05, the ballroom will open, and during that time, waiters and waitresses will serve desserts to each table. One dessert per seat, no more, no less. Are there any questions?" Somehow Plutarch manages to capture everyone's attention and no one raises their hand, either because they didn't listen or they didn't care. Plutarch disappears behind some "Restricted Access" hallway, and everyone else slowly clusters toward an ornate archway. Johanna sighs and gracefully rolls off the couch.
"Try to have some fun, Katniss," she places a hand on my shoulder. "I'll meet you in a bit. Finnick will save a seat for us," she adds, jutting her chin toward a disheveled tuft of bronze hair that just barely pokes above the mass of updos. I turn my head back toward where Johanna was, but only see a glimpse of a black wisp disappear behind a corner labeled "Restrooms". I attempt to keep Finnick's head in my line of sight, but my small frame makes it easy to disappear in the throng of excited teenagers.
Even after I pass through the main entrance, people surround me on all sides. I find myself extremely disoriented and my eyes trail up to the ceiling in a feeble attempt to get my bearings. Three large glass chandeliers spanned toward the back of the room, giving her a sense of where to go next. The rest of the ceiling was a peachy color, with an occasional paper streamer draping across.
"Katniss, over here!" I hear his voice before seeing anything that might even closely resemble Finnick, but eventually my eyes find his frantically waving hand. I weave through the remains of the crowd and take a seat next to him.
"Excellent work, Finnick. You're really looking out for your antisocial friends, aren't you," I comment. He had chosen the table furthest away from the main door, which happened to be nestled near a corner. The view was partially obscured by various streamers, party balloons, and the giant flower arrangements that crowned every table. I suppose something large had to serve as a centerpiece for giant tables that served twelve.
"Good thing we're near the food, right?" He grins and hooks a thumb over his shoulder. Sure enough, a small crowd of kitchen workers were in the process of setting up various dishes, all of which looked like they could be full meals on their own. I catch myself smiling and tear my attention away from the steaming vats of food.
"Hey Finnick, do you know who else is going to sit with us? You heard Heavensbee, and Johanna said we would have eight people at most."
He shakes his head solemnly. "Nope. All of my friends ditched me. Oh, hang on," he looks over my shoulder, "JOHANNA! Over here!"
She arrives with Annie, Clove, and someone else. They all seat themselves on the other side of Finnick, and Johanna is sure to leave some space between her and the next person over.
"By the way, Finnick. You're pretty terrible, losing your girlfriend at prom? Good thing the two of us needed to take a piss at the same time. Next time, –" Johanna Mason always spoke straight from her mind, but at her words, tears were beginning to brim in Annie's eyes. Finnick's turquoise eyes burns through Johanna, and for the first time in recorded history, she fumbles out a brief apology.
"A-anyway, this is Clove and Cato," she mutters, pointing to the dark-haired girl and her blond companion. I recognized Cato from the football team, but I haven't seen Clove anywhere in school. Perhaps she was one of the select group of students who dual-enrolled at the local college. The couple waves a curt greeting, but Clove's face falls in the middle of it.
"Looks like Glimmer's here," she curses under her breath. I turn around and barely recognize the girl from the salon. Glimmer, I think. I had only seen her from a distance, in the salon, but now she dons a heavily textured dress that looks as if it was woven out of feathers. I've never seen anything like it in all the shopping that I've done in my life. Granted, I don't shop much, but when Prim drags me by the wrist to look at Jessica McClintock, Christian Dior, and even the new Jovani store at our mall, it's hard not to notice the alien mannequins in the storefronts. She had always wanted to buy a dress like that, but I always told her no and pushed her along. The dress my mother purchased for me at the end of March was one she found on sale for a measly $35 dollars, but back then, it wasn't much. Cinna had made some adjustments and it fit like a glove afterward.
But Glimmer's attention is diverted elsewhere, and her male companion greets us first. "Cato! My man, what's up?" The stocky boy claps his huge palm onto Cato's shoulder, almost causing him to spill the water he was drinking.
"Nice to see you too, Marvel." His face is tinted an unnatural shade of red and as he walks toward the empty seat next to Cato, his limbs wobbly slightly. With Haymitch Abernathy as a neighbor, I'm only too familiar with how intoxicated people act.
"Hey Muscles, that seat is taken." I see Johanna is back to her usual frowny, snappy self. Of course it was a lie, but for whatever reason, Johanna had chosen to sit down in a seat two away from Cato's.
"Chill, lady. I was just chatting with my bro here."
"Yeah? Well I think it's prime time for you to leave," she retorts. I briefly remember Johanna mentioning Marvel sometime during our underclassmen years, but I have no idea why she seems so snappy right now. Glimmer arrives, whispering something into his ear, and the two turn around and leave.
Johanna rolls her eyes at their backs and faces the rest of us, "Anyone up for some food? I thought I smelled some lamb stew earlier." We all nod our assent and rise up to the buffet tables, loading our ceramic plates with a helping of anything we found desirable. Finnick pokes fun at Johanna's helpings of food, but she pays him no mind.
I've always lived on simpler meals, they were easier to prepare and didn't take my mother away from her duties for too long. She worked at a local hospital and immersing herself in patients and diagnostics distracted herself long enough to get by. After my father passed away, his insurance supported us for a small amount of time, but we knew that in this suburban environment, there was next to nothing a mere elementary schoolgirl could do. Even though I used to participate in art fairs and even attempted lemonade stands, the spare change that just barely covered the bottom of my glass jars would never be enough. Somehow my mother got back on her feet and found a job at a local hospital. Her hours left her sleeping at odd times of the day, and seldom awake whenever I happened to be home.
I take a bite of a small spoonful of wild rice covered with a small portion of the lamb stew and instantly savor the flavor.
"Wow Katniss, you can really eat," Finnick comments as he watches me wolf down spoonful after spoonful. Had I not been in such a formal environment, I would have even considered tipping the plate back and letting the food rain onto my face.
"At least I'm not the one taking food from other people," I counter, staring at Johanna's bowl of soup that now sits in front of him.
"It's okay, I'm just watching out for Jo," he says. "Wouldn't want her to pop out of that pretty dress of hers." Johanna rolls her eyes and goes back to eating her meal while Finnick returns his attention to Annie, who has been quiet all evening.
"Since we're all pretty much strangers, why don't we go around introducing ourselves?" Madge suggests from her seat between Clove and Annie. It was an ideal position, three people sat on either side of her (save for Johanna, who had kept her distance for personal reasons), and at her words, all of us glance at each other for what seems like the first time.
"I guess I'll start then. I'm Katniss, Katniss Everdeen, and…and what else do you want me to say?"
"Tell us about yourself. Your favorite color, your favorite cuisine, anything."
"Madge, the year's over. You sound like you're writing a column for the yearbook." She rolls her eyes, but the corners of her lips flit upward.
"Have it your way," she turns to my neighbor, Finnick. "So. Finnick Odair, how's life with you? What's the story behind you and Annie? What–"
"Whoa there Madge, settle down. Life's good, especially since Annie's here," he says with a short chuckle. "I think Annie should be the spotlight of these introductions, really." He nudges her gently with his elbow, and she rolls her eyes.
"I'm not really that good with words…" she begins. "My name is Annie Cresta, I'm home schooled, I like the ocean, I adore Mags, my caretaker, and... And that's it."
"Hah, not much of the ocean here now is there?" Clove pipes up from where she's sitting, "I used to live out on the coast, it was probably one of the greatest things ever. Sand in between your toes, children just running all around you, waves splashing up at your ankles… It's the life."
I turn my gaze back toward Annie and her smile is almost contagious. "You summed it up so perfectly, and I don't even know your name."
"Clove, Clove Newton," she answers, grinning. "I met Jo and Cato at the Renaissance Fair in August, if you didn't go, you should definitely go next year." She nudges her partner before continuing, "Your turn, buddy."
Cato turns around from a conversation he was having with Johanna, and introduces himself. Plutarch's announcement about the opening of the ballroom interrupts are small conversation, and all eyes turn toward me. After a few lighthearted remarks about how neither Madge nor I have dates (Johanna was let off the hook), Glimmer arrives in the empty seat between Johanna and Cato.
"Oh my God, Cato! You guys have so many extra seats, why don't you just come and sit with us? It's a party over there, Marvel's just so cool," she giggles. "Much cooler than any of you."
"What a shame," Johanna grumbles.
"Of course it is! You guys aren't doing anything here, so I'll just start talking for you. Cato, come and sit with us! It'll be fun," she winks. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Finnick whisper something to Annie, and the two of them head off toward the ballroom. "Oh look, two more empty seats. You guys are so boring." One of her face eyelashes hangs comically off her lower lashline, and I can't imagine what she would do if she could see herself.
"Well, if you won't move, I'll just go and get all of my friends on my own then. Brutus and Enobaria would really like some fresh meat to talk to," Glimmer stands up to leave as a small black fluffy thing falls onto the peach tablecloth. Oh, those must be the eyelashes.
"I think I'll run to the bathroom," I announce, turning toward the four remaining members of our party. "You guys might want to move before she gets back and does something stupid."
"Too late for that," Cato mutters. "Now I don't feel bad about going to Finnick's for pictures. Getting drunk before prom can only end in good things." Johanna suddenly perks up from her sullen posture and quickly scoots her chair back.
"Hey Kat, I'll follow you in a sec alright? They're closing up the buffet tables and I need to grab something quick," she calls out behind her. I nod and attempt to retrace my footsteps to the main lobby where I had first seen the sign for the restrooms. I quickly find it, but a rough hand clamps around my elbow.
"Hey, you there," he slurs.
I'm certainly quite elated to publish my first chapter of this fanfic. It was originally intended to be a one-shot. As time progressed, it got longer and longer, so I decided to split it into multiple parts. I know this chapter wasn't extremely exciting; but I hope you enjoyed it. In later chapter(s?), I will reveal a bit more about each character, and of course, introduce Peeta. I would love it if you could write a quick review telling me your thoughts on the story, and I'll definitely consider them for the next chapter.
Until next time!
-Shoelaces